In the dead of night, the city was a sea of concrete silence, its stars dimmed by the neon glow. Inside a modest apartment, Jun Ruoshui jolted awake, gasping for breath. Cold sweat beaded his brow.
That dream again.
Blood ran like rivers. Corpses littered the ground. He stood at the heart of the carnage, his hands stained crimson. His body felt foreign—heavy, numb, as if it no longer obeyed his will. His mind blurred, vision fracturing. He tried to cry out, but no sound escaped his throat.
Then, in that desolate silence, he saw someone—a figure in white walking slowly into the distance. Their robe fluttered lightly like mist, and their slender frame moved with an otherworldly grace. They looked as if they didn't belong to this world at all.
"Wait…" he called out in his heart, but even raising a hand was impossible.
The figure never turned back. Without a pause, they vanished into the mist and darkness.
A faint whisper echoed in his ears."Ruoxie…"
A sharp, inexplicable pain pierced through his chest. His body trembled, as though something buried deep in his soul had begun to stir. Something old. Something forgotten.
And just like every time before, the dream ended there.
Jun Ruoshui sat up, soaked in sweat. He wiped his forehead and glanced at his phone. 2:00 AM. Again.
Thirsty, he opened the fridge, grabbed a can of beer, and chugged it in one go. The images from the dream still lingered in his mind like smoke.
Insomnia again.It was becoming more and more frequent these days.
Ever since his thirties, sleep had started to evade him. He had tried everything—sleeping pills, intense workouts, heavy liquor. Sure, he'd fall asleep, but the next day would be a painful blur of migraines and foggy thoughts.
He even sought therapy, but the psychologist could only offer vague theories. "Maybe it's stress from work."
He knew it wasn't.
But if not stress, then what?
With a weary sigh, he gave up on thinking too much. A notification blinked on his phone. It was a message from Pangzi, the chubby guy at his studio.
Apparently, because he'd skipped out on the last team-building event—again—he was now being punished with a game livestream. The hardest difficulty, of course. He had to stream until they were "satisfied."
Choose your own time. We'll all be watching, the message said gleefully. A game link was attached.
Jun Ruoshui stared at the screen, unamused.Whatever. Not like I can sleep anyway.It was a Saturday night. He could always sleep in tomorrow.He wasn't some big streamer—there probably wouldn't be more than a handful watching.
He sent a lazy reply.
Instantly, Pangzi responded:"Brother Jun, we're all here! Been waiting for this! (☆▽☆)"
...Fantastic.Everyone knew he was terrible at games.If they just wanted to watch him socially implode, they could've said so.
Clicking on the link, the screen loaded into a beautifully minimalist, ink-painting-style homepage. Just one line of description:
"Wandering Blades & Immortal Shadows: A fully immersive 360° neural-linked single-player RPG. Explore limitless realms. Experience full sensory reality."
Never even heard of this.He sighed and got to work setting up his stream.
He logged into his near-empty account and titled the stream:"Late-night punishment stream. Don't flame, I'm just here to suffer."
When he went live, over ten people joined immediately. Five were from his studio. The rest? Probably bots the system gave him out of pity.
His co-workers wasted no time spamming the chat:
"Front row secured!""Popcorn's ready!""Recording device armed and ready!"
Jun Ruoshui ignored them, activated the setup, and launched the game.
A swirl of light sucked him into a void-like tunnel of distorted time and space. When the swirl calmed, he appeared in an antique-style room, stepping out of a shadowy vortex.
His in-game avatar wore a long cyan cloak. His black hair was tied with a blue ribbon, half-up and half-down. In one hand, he held a jade-carved bamboo staff. At his waist hung a wooden token. On his feet—simple hemp boots. He looked the very image of a wandering cultivator.
The game had no fixed classes. Players could customize their starting world—wuxia, court intrigue, modern, xianxia, or even dark fantasy. His outfit and weapon were based on his chosen style.
As the vortex behind him faded into nothingness, he lifted a hand toward the empty sky.
With a shimmer, a glowing scroll unfolded mid-air, revealing three difficulty levels:Easy, Normal, and Hard.
The chat exploded.
"HARD MODE! HARD MODE!""I give him 10 minutes tops.""Prepare for infinite deaths. Let's gooo~"
Jun Ruoshui sighed again and silenced the chat window.
Fine. Let's get this over with.
He tapped "Hard."
The scroll instantly froze and shattered into ice shards. Then—
He plummeted.
The world blurred as a freezing wind howled past his ears. The cold bit into his skin, stabbing through his chest like knives.
A raspy system voice began narrating the dungeon intro:
The stars shimmer in silence.Frost veils the boundless land.Raise your cup, my friend—But beware the snow that swallows souls.
When his feet finally touched solid ground, he stood amidst an endless field of glimmering snow.
Unlike the other difficulties, Hard Mode didn't bother with friendly tutorials or mission tips. It simply tossed you in and left you to fend for yourself.
Just as the intro said, the night sky was ablaze with stars, snow reflecting the light like thousands of tiny mirrors. It was so bright, it felt like daytime.
How long had it been since he'd seen stars like this?
Living in the city, one forgets.But now, the sky stretched into a shimmering sea of light, infinite and vast. Layer upon layer of starlight. Just one glance could make a person lose themselves.
And then—That same chill from the dream returned.
In the back of his mind, the figure in white flickered into view again. That silent silhouette. Drifting away.
This isn't just a dream. And it's not just a game.
That figure… felt like someone from another lifetime.
In this land of starlight and snow, something ancient was awakening.Something that had waited through lifetimes and death itself.
Just then, a system notification popped up:
Quest Triggered: Soul Fragment CollectionCurrent Progress: 5/1000
A thousand fragments? Whose soul is that shattered? What could break a soul like that?
Jun Ruoshui blinked, bewildered. It sounded absurd—but deep down, he felt it. This had something to do with those dreams.
He checked his skill menu. All his regular abilities were locked—greyed out completely.
But below them, a few new skills had appeared, marked specifically for this dungeon:
Phantom Step
Snowfall Waltz
???
With a note:
Due to the unique nature of this realm, all standard skills are restricted. You may only use dungeon-specific abilities.
The first looked like some kind of movement or evasion skill. The second probably an ice-based attack. As for the third—it was still hidden.
He'd have to figure that one out on his own.