"Why is it so unbearably tight? Loosen it somewhat, for goodness' sake."
***
The dawn diffused a feeble light through a skyline abruptly fractured. Rusted carcasses of vehicles lay layered across the streets, entwined by creeping tendrils of weed. Below, the earth bore lengthy, blackened streaks, scars left where something monstrous had once ravaged through.
Amidst the ruin, skeletal remains lay exposed, their forms collapsed into the debris.
A young man navigated cautiously forward, appearing somewhat dishevelled and coated in grime. His frame was fragile, as if a mere gust might cause him to falter, which was scarcely an exaggeration.
In truth, he bore no greater distinction than the shipwrecks strewn along the ancient coasts, save for the fact that those had been forged to endure.
"Bloody hell," he muttered with a scowl as he pressed onward.
Emaciated and bruised, he had now reached the zenith of his starvation. Over his tattered black garments, he wore cracked plates of armour scavenged from a fallen comrade of similar ilk.
A fractured gas mask hung uselessly from his belt.
Glancing at the wristband strapped to his arm, a device designed to monitor one's Qi levels, he noted with grim resignation that his reserves had fallen below twenty percent.
Technically, only a cultivator with a Qi reserve exceeding sixty percent could awaken a manual, which, at best, enhanced survival chances by administering items, abilities, and other related aids.
He had never reached that threshold, chiefly because he lacked the means to slay a mutated beast and absorb its Qi. Following the collapse, that remained the sole reliable method of gauging pure Qi; all other techniques had become corrupted.
By this stage, Kyle was utterly desperate for sustenance or scrap metal that could be refined into tools or weapons by anyone possessing a manual, enabling trade for essentials such as food and shelter.
His storage bag was utterly empty and in tatters.
As he traversed an abandoned highway bridge, Kyle spotted a Spineback Boar below, rooting through a pile of human remains.
This creature was classified as a feral mutant found only beyond the safe zones. Its dark hide was lined with sharp, calcified spines along the shoulders, capable of breaking off and embedding into prey.
Though a low-tier threat, it proved lethal to unarmed scavengers, its tough hide impervious to blades except at vulnerable points such as the joints, throat, and underbelly.
Killing it would yield a mere two percent increase in Qi reserves. Thus, Kyle would have to slay multiple specimens to reach the threshold and awaken a manual.
Provided, of course, that he survived long enough to dispatch a second.
"Bastard... One small slip and I would surely be on my way to the afterlife by now. What on earth is a mutated beast doing near my base?" Kyle grimaced, retreating cautiously.
Fortunately, the creature had not yet detected him.
He regarded this area as his base, sleeping in one of the abandoned cars after venturing out to scavenge for food.
Before settling here, he had been certain no beasts prowled these parts. That certainty now appeared misplaced, and he might be forced to relocate.
Swiftly, he concealed himself behind a vehicle, waiting for the creature to finish feeding and depart.
Fully aware of his frailty, he understood that confronting the beast would be tantamount to suicide.
After all, who foolish enough at his rank—which even he scarcely comprehended—would willingly engage in combat with any such creature?
'Probably the most reckless thought I'll entertain this week... Damn it. I will never grow stronger like this, yet I cannot gamble my life before even getting a proper chance. This is maddening,' he thought bitterly, ensuring his head remained bowed.
***
A few minutes later, once the beast had fled, he emerged from his concealment and approached the spot where it had been feeding, casting a cautious glance at what it had left behind.
As he rummaged through the remains, Kyle muttered curses under his breath. The human detritus was utterly devoid of anything useful.
"At least die with something worth passing on, so another wanderer might survive by inheriting your belongings. Show some consideration for a fellow human, for once."
He discarded the empty backpack he had found and gazed ahead. At this rate, lingering in one place was a luxury he could no longer afford; the only option was to press onwards, especially since his base was no longer secure.
Quickening his pace, Kyle moved forward without hesitation.
Moments later, he arrived at a shopping mall beyond the bridge in the desolate city. His eyes widened with anticipation, the prospect of finally discovering something edible flooding his thoughts, even if it was spoiled or past its prime.
That modest hope already brought a faint reassurance to his starving stomach.
Drawing a deep breath, he smiled wryly to himself:
"Finally..."
Slipping through the slightly ajar entrance, he found the shopping mall remarkably untouched; rows of canned goods, snacks, crisps, and other items he deemed largely superfluous.
He leapt up in anticipation, momentarily behaving like a child confronted with a feast. A flicker of delight shimmered in his eyes. Within seconds, he was already contemplating making the mall his next refuge.
A slender thread of hope compelled him deeper inside, and soon he was plucking tins from the shelves, grinning like a man possessed.
Suddenly, voices and footsteps echoed through the mall, accompanied by laughter and the unmistakable confidence of a group.
"Are you kidding me? Bloody hell!"
Kyle instinctively ducked out of sight. In this ruthless world, evading danger meant more than merely avoiding mutants; humans were equally perilous. Their brutal impulses towards weaker prey, such as himself, often drove them to kill for sport.
And who would bother to care for a feeble soul with nothing to offer?
He cast a cautious glance from behind a shelf and spotted a group of five raiders, clad in relatively new armour and bearing scavenged firearms. Some carried weapons clearly granted by manuals.
Such items were transferable among manual users, though rarely without cost; usually, other goods were exchanged in return.
Put simply, it was barter trade.
One raider held a live Glassfang Rat in a cage—another feral creature—used to track beasts lurking nearby.
It was evident the raider was a cultivator with an affinity for taming beasts, a trait Kyle longed for—not the affinity itself, but the manual that conferred it.
Without hesitation, he lowered himself and crawled silently along the floor to a concealed spot where he could remain unseen until the group departed.
He held his breath for several moments, observing them from the shadows as they passed by, laughing and jeering at one another.
"Come on, you never mentioned that beauty. She had a fine figure and big boobs, honestly. Anyone would love to… well, you know," one joked casually, licking his lips like a lecher.
The other responded sharply, drawing his weapon from his belt:
"That is my sister, you bastard. I swear I will sever your head if you speak of her like that again, you imbecile."
The lecher raised his hands in apology, grinning sheepishly as he stepped back.
"My apologies, my apologies, mate."
A few minutes later, the raiders departed in haste, carrying a bag brimming with supplies from the mall and leaving it utterly barren for him.
Kyle seethed, clutching his hair as an overwhelming urge to scream tore at his throat. He had arrived first, yet, too weak to claim even five cans, he had managed only two. The weight of that frustration pressed heavily upon him.
"Damn it! I truly want to grow stronger. What kind of hell is this? Bloody hell! I hate this!" he cursed himself relentlessly.
The weakness he endured...
His stifling existence...
The future... was it even certain he would survive until dawn? Likely not.
Suddenly, a ripple of energy responded to his fury. He leapt forward like a cat, a frown creasing his brow.
"What on earth was that?" he shouted, slowly turning his gaze behind him to find a red stone glowing and hovering in midair.
His first thought was an absurd one—could it be... food?
"A floating packet of crisps? Impossible..."
He slapped his forehead and refocused, examining the floating stone properly. Tentatively, he circled it for a moment.
Curiosity soon overcame caution, and without hesitation, he grasped the stone.
'To hell with this,' he thought.
Suddenly, his head lifted with a subtle thrill, and his entire body convulsed as a surge of energy coursed through him. His eyes instantly glowed amber.
A faint voice echoed within his mind:
[Alert!] New User
[Heavenly Bonding...]
[…20%]
[…50%]
[…80%]
[Bonding successful]
[Clueless has awakened the Heavenly Dual Cultivation manual]
***
Entrance to Volume One: Sailor of Ruins.