Step. Step.
After what felt like an eternity of walking and stumbling through the streets, Fang Rui finally managed to cross the threshold of his home. However, the moment he stepped inside, his body gave out, collapsing onto the... cold, hard floor.
Thud!
"Huff… huff…" Fang Rui's body felt weak as he panted heavily. Each laboured breath was burning through his throat as his chest rose and fell in ragged bursts.
One must know that exhaustion and pain were clinging to him like a second skin, their weight threatening to drag him into unconsciousness.
But he resisted.
His sixth sense kept alerting him that sleep now might mean never waking again.
He then looked around, only to see the disarray of his surroundings, like an old friend — he saw things strewn here and there in an unorganised manner, dishes piled in the sink, giving a foul scent, and dust and cobwebs gathering in the corners — a perfect mirror of his own shattered state.
Time blurred. An hour slipped by—maybe less. Then, through the haze of fatigue, a spark of clarity ignited within him.
With a grunt, he forced himself onto his hands and knees, then to his feet... as he rose again. Pain was flaring through every muscle, every joint, but he welcomed it.
The pain meant he was still alive.
"Hehe" He smiled as he spread his arm, feeling the very moment.
Then—
His gaze drifted to the rusted door at the end of the hallway.
'No more running.' He reminded himself.
He was fully aware that he had one day left. Maybe less. Maybe only some hours.
The whispers he'd overheard, the fragments of research he'd scavenged—they all pointed to the same truth. Those marked by the Dawnbringer Curse were dragged into the Ominous World within three or four days.
For Fang Rui, three had already passed.
So, time was running out.
First, he staggered to the kitchen and gulped down three cups of water, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat. Then, with slow, deliberate steps, he approached the rusted door.
It had stood there for years—locked. That place was forbidden for him. A mystery from his childhood. A secret he'd never been allowed to uncover.
But now?
Now, he had nothing left to lose. And he had no one to stop him.
So, why care?
Before closing his eyes, he wanted to see what lay beyond this door.
Just as he reached for the handle, a thought flickered in his mind.
"Hmm.. Wait… that floating thing earlier. The… Emotion Devourer System? Whatever that is, what was that?"
His voice was flat and indifferent, but curiosity prickled beneath the surface.
As if summoned, crimson text flared before his eyes:
[ Emotion Devourer System ]
[ STATUS ]
Level: 0 (+)
• True Name: Fang Rui
• True Self: Unknown
• Bone Age: 16
• Trait: Cold-Hearted Demon, The lost one, The Fate one
• Realm: None (Regressed - Broken Dantian)
• Soul Core: Not Forged (Requires Dantian Repair)
[ ACCRUED MARTIAL TECHNIQUES ]
• Low-Tier Kick-Boxing Art (Nayanta Sect): 67% Mastery (33 Points to Complete)
• Low-Tier Vajra Body Forging Technique (Nayanta Sect): 53% Mastery (47 Points to Complete)
[ MISCELLANEOUS ]
• Memory: None
• Echo: None
• Accumulated Emotion Points: 84 Ominous Realm Access: 0 (83% Progress)
Fang Rui's eyes locked in,
"What the—?"
Every detail was correct. His name, his age, his shattered cultivation—even the martial techniques he'd half-learned before his fall from grace.
"Hmm?"
A frown creased his brow.
Was this real? Or just cruel trick of his exhausted mind?
'I am not hallucinating, right?'
He rubbed his eyes, half-expecting the text to vanish. When it didn't, suspicion coiled in his gut.
"Or is someone tracking me?"
'But who? And why?'
His gaze darted around the empty house. His senses becoming more alert. But he found no shadows moving. He heard nothing except his own breath… except hustling and bustling noises of outside people.
Well, he was fully aware, and one thing was clear… If someone wanted him truly dead, they'd have already done it. Even now, if someone attacked him suddenly, he wasn't sure if he could defend himself entirely.
Besides, the system only reacted to strong emotions directed at him.
"So, what is this thing?" he muttered.
"Is it illuminated by some array or rune? Or by some kind of relic? Or by Echo or memory?"
Still, he found no answer.
This was so… strange.
He knew the world held powerful relics of immense power, like Echo and Memory—which are categorized into Mortal, Profound, Spirit, and Innate Ranks, each with their own low, mid, high, and peak tiers. As a former sect disciple, he'd heard tales of such treasures, though he'd never held one.
But this?
Why, but he felt… this was way different.
Against his better judgment, he reached out, fingers brushing empty air where the text hovered.
[ Current System Level: Lv0 ]
[ Unlocked Basic Function: Skill Enhancement ]
"Oh?"
The words shimmered, solid under his touchless inspection.
'Not an illusion, then.'
"Then what are you, really? Why do you keep popping up whenever someone shows deep emotion toward me?" He spoke, full of questions.
Then—
The system responded flatly:
[The System is generated through ominous means. These events transcend mortal understanding#&*?!!@?!!]
[It is connected to the Source of All, the Means of All. It is referred to as the Origin#?@!!&??]
[Emotion is rooted in the Origin. By harvesting profound emotions from others, you gain Emotion Points with numerous uses.]
[Further functions will unlock with time.]
Fang Rui's lips parted slightly.
"Harvesting emotions? So from earlier, each popping was… I am devouring their emotion? Hmm…"
The concept was absurd—yet the evidence floated before him, undeniable.
"Hah." A dry chuckle escaped him.
His life was already a waking nightmare; what was one more impossibility?
His attention snapped to the next prompt as he tapped the basic function:
[Skill Enhancement: Expend Emotion Points to accelerate martial technique mastery. Emotions carry the essence of a technique's origin, allowing rapid comprehension. Cost varies by skill tier and complexity. Higher upgrades require more Points.]
This time, his breath caught.
"You're joking."
A year. A full year he'd wasted, grinding through half-learned techniques with no proper guidance. In the sect, only the favored received real teaching—those who bowed and scraped to elders. Talent meant nothing without connections. It's like a double-edged sword; without opportunities and resources, talent will be useless eventually.
But this...
This will change everything.
A smile—genuine, fierce—twisted his lips.
Then his gaze landed on his listed trait, then clicked it:
[ Cold-Hearted Demon ]
[ Trait Description: Forged in tragedy, tempered by suffering. Your will does not waver, even amidst carnage. Negative emotions have birthed this unbreakable resolve. ]
"Tch." Fang Rui rolled his eyes.
"Are you kidding me? I'm the cold one here? Not this freakung world?"
However, he got no reply as if the system does not reply to anything except related to system functions.
"Whatever", Fang Rui calmed down.
"Let's see oth-"
Then—
Just as he was about to test the system, to pour Points into his half-mastered skills, the
Heat, the burning sensation, once again kicked in. But this time, he felt it was more intense.
Still, it was not enough to tear his will.
[ Ding! ]
[ Ominous Realm Descent: 4 hours, 32 minutes remaining. ]
[ First descent will be compulsory. Prepare accordingly. ]
"Hmm…? It has a function like this, too?"
"Tch. No time."
He realized that the clock was ticking faster than he thought.
"So, later," he growled, turning toward the rusted door.
His fingers closed around the handle.
For years, this door had been just wood and iron. Today, it felt heavier than a mountain, its surface thrumming with unseen energy.
He took a deep breath.
Then used the second spare key he had long been hiding from his parents.
Clink!
Clang!
Then pulled the door lock.
Creak—
Then he pushed the door with his whole body.
The door groaned open, unleashing a wave of frigid air that raised goosebumps across his skin.
Beyond the threshold, darkness waited.
And something else.
Something hungry.