The freefall didn't last as long as Chen Fan had imagined.
According to the formula he'd learned in physics class (though he'd mostly read novels during it), h = ½gt², falling from a high-rise hotel should have given him enough time to review his short life or elegantly look for a haystack like in Assassin's Creed.
But reality was, he'd only fallen for about three seconds before his back slammed violently into a resilient, bouncy object. This was followed by a dizzying series of tumbles, and finally, with a tremendous crash, he was buried in a pile of soft, foul-smelling material reeking of sour decay.
"Cough, cough, cough…!"
Chen Fan struggled, pushing his head out of the garbage heap. Half of an unidentifiable metal can hung from his hair, and his face was smeared with something that looked like a cross between pizza and some spirit-beast's droppings.
"Still… still alive. My luck's holding," he mumbled, feeling his ribs. It hurt like hell, but nothing seemed broken.
He looked up. The window he'd jumped from was now just a distant, tiny point of light. Beneath him was a massive, green garbage collection net, suspended in mid-air, bearing the faded words: [Starsea Tech: For a Cleaner Cangnan City].
"Cangnan City? The map from I'm the God?" Chen Fan wiped his face, his pupils constricting. "But that old man was just in a Cassel College-style hotel… Dragon Raja upstairs, I'm the God downstairs? Did the developers just build this place illegally?"
He clambered out of the garbage net, limb by limb, landing in a dark, damp alley.
Towering neon signs rose on both sides of the alley, dense pipes crawled up the walls like veins, and steam hissed. This wasn't just cyberpunk; Chen Fan clearly saw that the neon tubes weren't forming advertisements, but rather… talismanic scripts?
[Spirit Gathering Array Foot Bath City – Get a Foundation Establishment Pill with Membership!]
[Tang Sect Hidden Weapons Specialty Store – 20% Off Everything! Sale of Buddha's Fury Tang Lotus to Normies Strictly Forbidden!]
The sheer dissonance made Chen Fan's head spin.
"Calm down, Chen Fan, calm down," he took a deep breath, trying to steady his still-pounding heart. "As the protagonist, now's the time to receive the newbie starter pack."
He hid in a relatively clean corner, assumed what he thought was the most devout posture—sitting in a lotus position—and began frantically calling out in his mind.
"System?"
"Bro System?"
"Deep Blue,add my stats!"
"Main God Space?"
"Old Grandpa?Soul in a ring?"
"Even just a status panel would do!"
A minute passed. The alley held only the distant sound of sirens and the roars of some unknown monster.
No blue screen popped up. No cold, mechanical 'Ding!' sounded in his ears.
Chen Fan's face gradually paled.
"No… It can't be?" he stammered, trembling as he patted himself down. No ring, no small green bottle, no mysterious black stone. He didn't even have his phone anymore.
All he possessed now was his own body—chronically sleep-deprived, with a high body-fat percentage, and physically useless—and a T-shirt soaked in the stench of garbage.
"A naked transmigration? On hell difficulty?" Chen Fan's throat felt dry. "This script is wrong! Even for a trash-to-treasure arc, the start should involve a broken engagement or public humiliation to build up rage points! Throwing me directly into a monster den like this? What is this?"
Just then, heavy footsteps echoed from the mouth of the alley.
Chen Fan immediately held his breath, shrinking deeper into the shadows. It was an instinct learned from countless horror novels—until you know what's going on, even a cat could kill you.
A tall, burly figure walked in.
By the dim purple light at the alley's entrance, Chen Fan got a look at him. The man wore a tattered leather jacket and carried what looked like a crowbar? No, on closer inspection, the crowbar was wound with intricate copper coils, and its tip crackled with sporadic blue arcs of electricity.
The man walked to the garbage pile and began rummaging through it with practiced ease, cursing under his breath. "Dammit, so little 'Spirit Energy Waste' today… If I don't find enough Tier 1 Monster Beast bones, I won't be able to pay the 'protection tax'."
Spirit Energy Waste? Tier 1 Monster Beast?
Chen Fan's brain raced: Based on his look, he's probably a bottom-feeder scavenger. His weapon looks tech-based, but his words are cultivation-themed. Threat Assessment: Most likely cannon fodder.
A sliver of hope rose in Chen Fan's heart.
If he's just cannon fodder, maybe I can…
He was about to move when his foot accidentally crushed a discarded nutrient solution vial.
Crunch.
In the silence of the alley, the sound was as piercing as thunder.
The burly man spun around, his bloodshot eyes instantly locking onto Chen Fan.
"Who's there?!"
He raised his modified crowbar. The electric arc at its tip flared violently, emitting a terrifying zzzt sound.
Chen Fan raised his hands, a stiff smile plastered on his face. "Brother, don't misunderstand! I'm just passing through… uh… a fellow Daoist?"
"Fellow Daoist?" The man looked Chen Fan up and down, his gaze lingering on the soft, pale skin and strange T-shirt for a second before a greedy, vicious grin spread across his face. "Soft skin, tender flesh… and no spiritual energy波动… Are you a relic from the 'Old Era'? Or a fat lamb that escaped from somewhere?"
Without another word, the man gave Chen Fan no chance to explain. He took a step forward, his speed shockingly fast!
Holy crap! That speed is at least twice Bolt's! And this is cannon fodder?!
Chen Fan, horrified, instinctively rolled to the side.
BOOM!
The crowbar smashed into the brick wall, blasting out a crater the size of a washbasin. Rubble flew, and the edges of the crater were marked with what looked like scorched runic patterns.
This is a goddamn enchanted 'Sacred Relic of Physics'!
"Don't move! Hand over anything valuable!" the man roared, raising the crowbar again.
"Brother! Let's talk this through!" Chen Fan scrambled backward, his mind racing. "I'm… I'm from the青云门 (Qingyun Sect)! My master is… is Zhang Xiaofan! You dare lay a hand on me?"
He tried to name-drop a powerful faction.
The man wasn't having it. Instead, he looked confused. "Qingyun Sect? What third-rate little gang is that? This is Lord Luo Feng's jurisdiction! Besides the Limit Dojo and the Extreme Path Alliance, I don't answer to anyone!"
Damn it! Cross-server communication failed!
Chen Fan despaired. The world's setting was so utterly chaotic that his "intelligence advantage" had become "intelligence interference."
The man sneered as he closed in, the crowbar poised to smash down on Chen Fan's skull.
Just then, Chen Fan's peripheral vision caught a strange symbol graffiti'd on a wall deep in the alley—an open eye, surrounded by twisted lines.
A dusty memory flashed in his mind. That's… the distress signal from Lord of the Mysteries