The Venerable Lotus Blossom, Jihao Yuxuan, set his cup down beside him, wearing his characteristic, faint smile—a smile that exuded a profound sense of confidence and deep knowledge.
This stirred a strange, conflicting sensation within her—a blend of comfort, unease, and trust—leaving her thoroughly bewildered. Shortly after, Chloe and Madeleine took their leave, chatting happily:
"Brother Jihao Yuxuan, please convey our regards to Auntie—the Venerable Heaven's Blessing, Islabeth."
He bid them farewell with a wave of his hand, his voice calm and steady:
"Very well. Take care of yourselves, my charming young ladies."
He then turned his gaze toward Jia, whose look at the departing pair left him visibly annoyed. He fixed her with a cold, piercing stare—one that made her feel like a lowly insect in his presence—before his expression softened back into a state of calm.
"Miss Jia, I ask that you understand Chloe and Madeleine's current situation. They are not yet fully mature; time has affected their physical forms faster than their minds. As Yuta once said, they were brought into existence from a single word—they require time to truly mature."
"Much like how things were before, I believe the next three years will be sufficient for them to return to their former selves. That said, they remain more dangerous than any entity you might encounter—now or in the future—especially given the 'Destruction' that currently dwells in this world alongside you all."
The Venerable Lotus Blossom, Jihao Yuxuan, spoke in a calm, measured tone as he sipped his tea. She glanced toward Jiya, who appeared convinced by his words; yet, her desire to uncover who they were—and the nature of this "Destruction"—continued to grow.
Holding her teacup, she spoke in a calm tone:
"Could he be referring to Siri? Chloe and Madeline's gazes are full of curiosity, and there's a distinct sense of familiarity toward her—is that what he meant?"
"Wait, that's absolutely impossible. Siri is the embodiment of the concept of 'Destruction' within the fantasy world; it makes no sense for her to have existed before the world itself. He must be referring to some other entity. As for their curiosity—well, they're just acting childishly. And that sense of familiarity with 'Destruction'—who could it be? I suppose the truth will only come to light once we leave this world."
Turning her attention toward the Venerable Lotus Blossom, Jihao Yuxuan—who seemed indifferent to her preoccupation—she set her teacup back on the table and asked, in a composed voice:
"Still, there must be a reason you've chosen to visit the Casiral family estate."
Jihao Yuxuan studied her for a few moments before bursting into loud laughter, leaving her bewildered. Then, he uttered words that caught her completely off guard:
"Is there any reason I shouldn't stay at my brother Yuto—or is it Yuta's?—estate? I've come to stay here until the Summer Festival concludes. Besides, two other guests will be arriving soon. You'll just have to be patient." Jia did not say a word; she realized that the person before her was someone about whom she knew literally nothing—everything she thought she knew was but a tiny fragment of the truth.
Taking a sip of her tea, she replied to his question in a calm tone that masked her shock:
"No, there is no reason for me to visit your brother's estate, Master Jihao Yuxuan. In fact, it is wonderful for families to gather on such occasions."
"You are with your own family, Jia. It won't be long now before you learn the truth—a truth that will change everything. The very reason you came to the city of Berhais is to uncover this truth, which will be revealed during the Summer Festival. Just wait a little longer; the festival begins in two days."
His voice was calm, exuding a sense of reassurance.
Jia leaned back in her chair, gazing up at the ceiling of the greenhouse. She recalled Yuta's words on Jeju Island—that Aster Guilford was dangerous, that he intended to kill him, and that she would discover the truth at the Summer Festival. But what exactly was this truth? She couldn't be certain, yet she felt sure that, whatever it was, she would not be as shocked by it as the rest of the world would be.
"To be honest, I do want to know the truth that awaits me in two days—patience is not an issue. But will I be able to accept it if it concerns my very existence here? Perhaps it is better not to know at all."
Jia's tone betrayed the depth of her confusion and the internal conflict she was enduring. The Venerable Lotus Blossom, Jihao Yuxuan, handed her a light-blue phone. She took it, casting a puzzled glance his way.
She powered it on, revealing a fictional character as the wallpaper. Navigating to the home screen, she explored its contents—though there wasn't much to see, as it contained only the essential, core applications.
Moving to the gallery, she found it packed with songs, anime clips, manhua, novels, and various humorous or high-energy videos; yet, there was no sign of the phone's owner.
After a few minutes, she stumbled upon a photo of a young man wearing a black jacket. He had messy black hair, and his brown eyes gazed toward the camera with an absent-minded expression—a detail that led her to realize he was the owner of the device.
She left the gallery and tried to open the notes app, but it refused to budge. After several failed attempts, a notification appeared in the center of the screen, leaving her stunned:
[Host's level is insufficient.]
[The time is not right to access the notes.]
Suddenly, the phone vanished right from her hands, leaving her completely dumbfounded. She looked toward the Venerable Lotus Blossom, Jihao Yuxuan, who returned her gaze with a calm expression—one that masked the confusion he felt at what he had just witnessed. The Venerable Heavenly Blessing, Izlabeth, had asked him to give the device to Jia, but it had disappeared mere minutes after being turned on. He decided, however, to simply let the matter slide. Breaking the silence, the Venerable Lotus Flower, Jihao Yuxuan, spoke while looking toward Jia:
"There is no need to dwell on what has happened; overthinking it would be pointless. If it holds any future significance, it will reveal itself in time—and if it does not, then it simply will not."
Jia turned her gaze toward him, a faint smile appearing on her face as she listened to his words:
"You are right, Venerable Lotus Flower, Jihao Yuxuan. I suppose I should simply enjoy the tranquility until the truth is eventually revealed. Thank you."
The Venerable Lotus Flower, Jihao Yuxuan, offered no verbal response to her thanks—nor did she expect one. She rose and departed, leaving the Venerable Lotus Flower, Jihao Yuxuan, to watch her as she vanished from his sight, a faint smile still lingering on his face.
Jia wandered through the nearly empty neighborhoods of Berhais, a faint, relieved smile gracing her lips. She paused, gazing up at the crimson moon—though the smile did not last long.
Feeling a slight weight in her pocket, she reached inside and pulled out a phone. She turned it on and discovered a voice message.
She played it immediately, her expression tightening with apprehension over what she was about to hear.
[Today is February 23, 2027, at 12:34 PM, in a district known as "New City" in the city of Bel-Abbes. It has been several months since I was afflicted by a curse—cast by absolute entities from a realm of fantasy.
I feel profoundly alone. No one remembers who I am anymore. Everyone has left me; my family, my friends—everyone who has ever known me, or ever will, constantly forgets my existence.
I do not want this life, nor do I desire this power, yet I am forced to endure this progression. It is a wretched existence. I desperately want to hold on, but I find myself unable to—to the point that I have begun recording what happens to me, day by day. This is the first entry.
I am not sure what to say; I am not accustomed to this. I have never kept a diary in my life—it simply wasn't how I lived.
Still, if anyone happens to be listening... perhaps they could help me? No—forget that. I don't want any help. But remember this: sometimes, the source of a person's suffering is something they have written with their own hands. That is why I never, ever, ever want anyone to read my journals.] It contains nothing mysterious or special—just a trivial, 345-page novel. I spent nearly five years writing it in my diary, and the prose is pathetically poor.
Regardless, it doesn't matter. Just do what I asked of you. I am Bou-Talib, a 19-year-old young man. It seems that calling myself "The Great Outcast"—originally just a joke—has actually become a reality.
Do you know what I regret the most? Not deleting it back when it was only three chapters long. If I had, I wouldn't be living through this eternal torment...
Jiya's gaze was sharp as she listened to the recording, though she didn't feel the warning was directed at her. She turned her attention back to the diary, only for the same message to appear in the center of the phone screen, leaving her deeply annoyed:
[Host's level is insufficient.]
[The time is not right to open the diary.]
Suddenly, a new notification—glowing in a brilliant, intense gold—appeared, catching Jiya completely off guard:
[Loading phone data. Please wait a few seconds, Master Bou-Talib, for the process to complete.]
With a look of utter confusion, Jiya stared at the phone before opening a portal to her own personal spiritual realm.
Inside her private palace, she sank wearily onto a sofa, her eyes fixed on the phone resting on the table. She recalled the audio recording; it felt hauntingly familiar—as if she had heard it before, or perhaps even spoken the words herself. But when? And how? It was a man's voice, yet she was a woman. And who is this "Great Outcast"? Who, for that matter, is this Bou-Talib? She had never even heard the name before in her entire life.
Rubbing her forehead, she gazed up at the ceiling once more, trying to make sense of the situation. For the past year, she had felt as though she were searching for something—something about which there was absolutely no information to be found in the world she inhabited.
Her eyes shifted toward her phone, where a notification in a soft, golden hue appeared. She picked it up immediately, filled with an inexplicable sense of joy.
[Download complete.]
Excitedly, Jiya opened the device to find two new applications: one was a novel with no title, and the other was an app labeled "A Nameless Life and the Great Outcast."
She accessed the "Memories" app, only to find the same recording as before. Feeling a touch of disappointment, she turned to the novel and tapped it to open it. A notification popped up:
[Hidden quest completed: Acquired the First Creator's phone.]
[Reward:]
[New ability unlocked: Memories of the Queen of the "I am the Great Outcast" world and the Palace of the Nameless.]
Jiya stared at the message, bewildered. She tapped on the application, triggering a series of notifications:
[Host's level insufficient.]
[Timing for accessing the journals is inappropriate.]
[Cannot open the novel or journal applications at this time.]
[Master Boutaleb is requested to return to their complete form to proceed.]
Jiya sighed in frustration as she stared at the notification. The phrase "Master Boutaleb is requested to return to their complete form" made no sense to her; she had always considered herself a complete being. How could she be only half a being, or merely a fragment of one? She placed the phone back on the table, feeling deeply annoyed; the notification had been incredibly provocative. Nevertheless, she decided to exercise patience and wait for a more suitable moment to open that note.
When she reached out to pick up the phone again, she found it had vanished once more—a discovery that left her thoroughly irritated.
She checked her list of abilities and tools, wondering if the item had been automatically moved to the system's storage.
[Ability: Ruler of Healers (Rank: ???)
Ruler of Elements (Rank: ???)
Ruler of Beasts (Rank: ???)
Master of Sins (Rank: ????)
Emperor of the Sword (Rank: ????)
Master of Primordial Chaos (Rank: ???)] Master of Devouring XXX++
Master of All XXX++
Weapon Saint XXX++
Memories of the Queen of the Realm "I am the Great Outcast" and the Palace of the Nameless: Level 1, Synchronization Rate 00%]
Items:
[25× Legendary-Rank Energy Recovery Potion
12× Legendary-Rank Refinement Pill
10× Legendary-Rank Healing Potion
13× Rank 9 Gu-Forging Scroll
3× Rank 9 Enslavement Gu
14× Legendary-Rank "100-Move Shun-Kung Arts" Manual
The First Creator's Phone (Rank: ????) ]
Jia's gaze was filled with astonishment and bewilderment as she examined her list of abilities. Her healing ability (Rank XXX) had evolved into "Sovereign of Healers"; her mastery over elements (Rank XXX) had become "Sovereign of Elements (???)"; her beast-taming ability (Rank XXX) had transformed into "Sovereign of Beasts"; her "Berserker" trait had shifted into "Primordial Chaos"; and her "Devouring" ability (Rank XXX) had ascended to "Master of Devouring."
She recalled losing consciousness on Jeju Island, after which the ability menu had failed to appear—leading her to simply ignore it and focus on the immediate challenges at hand. She had fought against followers of the Scorpion Organization, as well as various monsters across different ranks and high-level dungeon tiers.
After all that—the battles, the week-long Versalkin Academy festival held to commemorate the thousandth anniversary of the Demon Realm's defeat, the grueling training that lasted until the end of her studies, and the various events that had unfolded over the past seventeen days—she simply hadn't found the time to check it again.
Still, she felt a sense of relief seeing the phone listed among her items and resources; she decided to leave it be, as it wouldn't be of much use to her anyway. The notes wouldn't open, and what value could she possibly gain from learning about the past of the "Great Nameless Outcast" or reading what Boutaleb had written?
Furthermore, there was the matter of the genetic evolution involving dragons, angels, demons, and Saiyans—a potential that lay dormant within her. She hadn't taken any action regarding it, and she recalled that when she broke through to the "Expert Ruler" rank, no such transformation had occurred—unlike in the case of Armin, who had evolved into a hybrid of dragon and phoenix.
Rising from her seat, she headed toward the garden of her private palace within her spiritual realm, seeking a moment of rest to gather her scattered thoughts.
Yet, she found herself sinking deep into contemplation, disregarding the advice of the Venerable Lotus Flower, Jihao Yuxuan, who had urged her not to overthink things. But then again, saying something is one thing—doing it is quite another.
Several questions weighed on her mind: Who was her true family? Why was she a hybrid of four different races? And where did this strange "system" come from—a system that did nothing but offer guidance? She recalled how, on the very first day, it had identified itself as a "guidance system." Yet, other thoughts kept her from laughing: Why did the Magic Emperor, Aster Guilford, choose her? And why did he forbid her from using her abilities? Was he exploiting her—turning her into a resource to make himself stronger? This was just one of hundreds of questions swirling through her mind.
She tried to sort them out, but instead of finding answers, the questions only piled up.
When she first arrived, the Summer Festival was five days away; now, only two days remained. Still, she found herself puzzled by what he had meant by "a week."
It dawned on her that the festival he referred to was not the one celebrated by the people of Berhais and the surrounding regions, but rather the Summer Festival—the event where the truth would finally be revealed—which was now just four days off.
She wasn't troubled, however, for this event promised to answer the many questions weighing on her mind: Who was her true family? Why did Aster Guilford adopt her? Why did she resemble Yuta Caseral? And did Aster intend to kill her, using her as fuel to grow more powerful?
Moreover, why was the resemblance to Yuta so striking? Could it have something to do with the fact that they were both hybrids of the same entities—and that they were, coincidentally, exactly the same age? She didn't know the answers, but she was certain she would have to accept whatever they were, as they would ultimately determine her entire fate.
She lifted her gaze toward the sky with an empty expression—her crimson eyes fixed upon a beautiful blue expanse that, strangely, began to appear far too real, leaving her deeply bewildered. A message appeared before her eyes, evoking in her a strange mix of unease and comfort:
Yet, she was puzzled; unlike the protagonists in novels who would fall asleep the moment an ability notification appeared, the opposite happened to her—the world itself began to transform entirely.
She found herself in an ordinary, unremarkable village, with houses made of brick and cement—the kind of infrastructure typical of a rural area or a place nearly cut off from civilization.
Looking around, she spotted a mosque and an old, rusted water tank, alongside another one built of stone rather than iron, topped with a cylindrical structure.
Jia had no idea where she was; everything felt alien. Even the inhabitants of this world looked different—their hair, their physical builds, and their skin tones varied significantly from one person to another.
She pulled out the phone that the venerable "Lotus Flower" Jihao Yuxuan had given her. The time read 4:36, and the date was March 23, 2024.
Her gaze drifted toward a house on her left—a place that, for some unknown reason, felt intensely familiar. Without a word, she headed straight toward it.
She knocked on the door several times, her expression calm. A woman in her forties opened the door, looking at Jia with a clear sense of bewilderment. The woman spoke, asking with a sense of bewilderment about the identity of this strange girl—whose expensive, somewhat unusual attire caught her off guard:
"What do you want? Is there something you need, or have you come to the wrong address?"
Jiya's expression remained calm as she listened. She gathered that the woman either lacked knowledge of proper social etiquette or simply wasn't accustomed to it; she hadn't used a polite term of address like "ma'am," and her directness might well be perceived as rude by those unaccustomed to such a blunt approach.
Choosing to overlook this, Jiya spoke in a composed tone as she stepped inside—the woman having gestured for her to enter:
"Does a 'Boutaleb' live here? Here—take a look at this photograph to be sure."
The woman studied her for a few seconds before shifting her gaze to the photograph Jiya held out. With a look of lingering confusion, she asked:
"There are many people with that name—my middle son is also named Boutaleb. Are you looking for my son, or have you made a mistake? Is 'Boutaleb' a surname or a first name?"
However, as the woman's eyes fell upon the image of her son, her expression shifted. She looked back at Jiya, her demeanor betraying clear signs of nervousness—a reaction that confirmed to Jiya that she had, in fact, arrived at the right house.
Visibly uneasy, the woman gestured for her to follow into the living room:
"Please, come in. Yes... you are in the right place."
Jiya said nothing in response. The woman's name—which had been hovering on the tip of her tongue—now came to mind. As she sat down, Jiya thought to herself:
"Her name is Maryam—the mother of the person who owned the phone belonging to 'Boutaleb.' Yes, this is her. There were one or two photos of her in the gallery."