Dawn sunlight spilled over the crumbling streets as Qin Siyang strode into the internet café, backpack slung over his shoulder and ten copper coins clenched in his fist. With no money, his only option was an internet café.
A Slum's Spectacle
The buzz of faulty wiring hummed overhead. Three flickering pendant lamps cast dim light on peeling walls. A merchant in a mink coat ranted at a holographic screen, while a man in a tailored suit hammered a keyboard with impatient strokes—this was the only place outside the school in the Safe Zone's outskirts bold enough to run electricity 24/7 amidst chronic power shortages.
"Half an hour." The clatter of copper coins jolted the napping attendant awake. A bloated man lifted puffy eyelids, dragging greasy fingers across a coffee-stained ledger. "Machine 37. The one with the blue screen."
Forbidden Truth
The computer's startup whine sounded like a dying man's gasp. Qin Siyang dug his nails into the keyboard's cracks, glaring at the loading bar for the God-Slaying Camp forum. When the page finally loaded, a blood-red pinned post seared his vision:
Global Documented Sequences: 3,876
Updated to the present
He scrolled frantically. His stomach lurched—among all listed Sequences, there was no God-Eater, no Devourer, not even a single entry related to "consumption." His Sequence was undocumented.
Should I reveal it?
Going public might make him a global sensation. But then he stumbled on a post that froze his resolve:
"Humanity still cannot digest divine remnants. If someone awakens a Sequence that devours gods to grow stronger…they'd be seized for experimentation."