“Holy shit!”

Ji Jue would have never imagined, even in his dreams, that the very first thing he’d say after stepping into the rift realm would be something so blunt in standard Federation speech.

But there was no helping it. He’d almost blurted out his Cliff City dialect from sheer shock.

Anyone who suddenly found their vision blur, only to realize they were suspended midair and plummeting at high speed, probably wouldn’t be in the best state of mind. He was falling, for goodness’ sake!

In that split second, all he could see were the sky and earth spinning like a wheel. A ruined, desolate city twisted and flipped in his vision, rushing toward him and growing larger and larger right before his eyes.

BEEEEEP!!!

Horsey writhed in midair, letting out a shrill cry. But aside from screaming alongside Ji Jue, it was completely useless. This thing was only good for eating chicken!

Thankfully, in any team, there was always at least one carry. Seated on Horsey’s back, An Ran remained completely calm despite the spinning descent. In that fleeting moment when his rotation stilled, he glanced down at the rapidly approaching street below, and then...

Thud!

Without any visible motion or buildup, he shot off the seat like a cannonball, hurtling toward the broken structures below.

He landed instantly. As if all the momentum and impact of the fall had simply vanished, he stood firm the moment he touched down, not even stirring a speck of dust. From start to finish, the thin cord in his hand remained taut, tethered to Ji Jue and Horsey, who were still plunging through the air.

Then, with a sudden burst of force, he yanked!

From that slender frame erupted a strength far beyond anything Ji Jue had imagined. The explosive power of the White Deer Path manifested, forcibly altering the trajectory of Ji Jue’s fall, and dragging them to where An Ran stood. They skimmed past jagged steel bars and broken slabs, dropping toward the ground below. Their speed decreased more and more.

The force of their fall was gradually neutralized by the tension in the rope. Once it nearly played out, An Ran clenched his grip, caught it tight, and pulled back.

Ji Jue and Horsey, weighing four to five hundred jin together, were steadily lifted upward and hauled all the way onto the rooftop.

The moment they landed, Ji Jue didn’t even have time to get up before Horsey charged over, wagging its tongue wildly as it licked An Ran all over, beeping excitedly, practically radiating, I knew you wouldn’t just leave me to die! Ji Ji here is totally useless!

Ji Jue’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He was so annoyed he clenched his jaw.

Call the police, we got a simp over here!!!

But after surviving the brush with death, he finally had the time to look around, and only then did he realize he’d said “holy shit” far too early.

Fortunately, he still had other curses left.

“Fuck...”

Ji Jue froze. A violent wind blasted around him, lifting up clouds like tattered scraps of cloth to reveal a dim gray sky. Yet it was impossible to tell whether it was day or night. The blazing sun looked like a circular void, emitting a faint, dull glow. The moon, on the other hand, resembled a vortex, devouring the scattered glimmers of light as if it would never be satisfied, never full.

The stars, having lost their orbits, wandered aimlessly across the heavens, colliding with one another and bursting into pinpricks of light that were heavy on the eyes. It felt as though the world was on the verge of destruction, yet frozen in the very moment before it collapsed.

What truly made Ji Jue’s hair stand on end, however, was an illusory building shimmering where the edge of the heavens met the end of the earth. A towering spire that seemed to stand at the very center of the world soared to the heavens.

Even across an immeasurable distance—no, across an immeasurable stretch of time—that colossal tower’s majestic and solemn form remained etched upon the sky itself, as if it would stand forever.

But the tower had been shattered, broken clean in half. And so, the earth split apart, the heavens overturned, and endless calamities surged in all directions. This was the final afterimage from the brink of the world’s destruction. It was just a fleeting moment, yet eternally imprinted upon the sky of this rift realm, leaving every outsider beneath it with trauma they could never heal from.

Ji Jue rubbed his eyes multiple times. Only when the dark clouds swallowed the sky once more did he finally snap out of that horrifying vision, gasping for breath. Right now, all he wanted was to turn around, go straight home, grab the idiot who wrote that observation report by the neck, and demand, Is this really a rift realm that can only accommodate those below the Metamorphosis Realm? Are you kidding me?!

But there was no turning back now. He had already been swallowed by this rift realm.

“Mr. Ball, what do you think?”

Almost instinctively, Ji Jue reached toward his jacket, but his fingers recoiled as if they had touched a red-hot branding iron. A sharp burning pain shot through them. Upon further inspection, he realized he hadn’t imagined that strange heat.

Inside the inner pocket of his jacket, the once dormant devil's work ball was radiating a terrifying heat, as if it were a chunk of glowing iron. Within it, its intricate mechanisms spun and spun frantically, only to suddenly stutter after a cracking sound, then completely seize up.

Before falling utterly silent, it left behind one final warning. “Be careful. Something’s not right.”

Not right?

Ji Jue almost laughed from sheer frustration. He wanted nothing more than to point at the sky, the ground, and the ruined city around him and ask, What part of this place has ever been right?! Seriously, are you even useful?! Say something helpful, would you?!

“Ji Jue, watch out!” An Ran screamed.

Ji Jue’s vision blurred. A chain-thin cord shot out from An Ran’s sleeve again, wrapping around Ji Jue’s waist and yanking him backward with brutal force.

He had no chance to resist before he was flung into the air. Turning back in shock, he looked back at the place where he had just been standing. The cracked concrete floor shattered with a thunderous crash, and from beneath the fractured structure emerged a massive maw, large enough to chew and swallow ten Ji Jues whole!

A monstrous mouth resembling a meat grinder extended from the ruined building. Everything around it collapsed with deafening sounds, like firecrackers going off, as a body as thick and long as a train forced its way out from within the building. It was like a living creature, yet also like stone and steel.

Beneath an insect-like carapace and rotting flesh, there flickered a faint metallic sheen, as if the thing were mechanical. Yet when Ji Jue instinctively tried to resonate with it using his ability, the sensation turned strangely elusive, impossible to lock onto, as though it existed somewhere between presence and dissolution.

When the ring of crimson compound eyes surrounding that massive maw fixed on Ji Jue, the connection seemed to finally establish. What flooded into his mind was a chaotic, piercing scream powerful enough to shatter consciousness itself, like the anguished wails of tens of thousands of people.

Layered together, those voices were louder than thunder. And then, inside his skull, they exploded, and his vision went black.

“What the hell?!”

He was falling toward the ground, but before he could hit it, Horsey had already spun its wheels in place, launched forward like a bolt of lightning, and with a single smooth leap, caught him.

There was no need for commands. Horsey charged straight ahead, crushing over piles of rubble and broken bricks along the wall, then launched into the air, dragging An Ran’s rope along as it soared off the ruined building and dropped toward another collapsed rooftop.

They were running for their lives!

Boom!

Behind them, the enormous centipede-like monster plunged straight toward the location they had been moments before, piercing through the structure. The already unstable building finally gave way, collapsing like a controlled demolition.

Dust billowed, and debris scattered. From within the collapsing structure came a strange, tide-like cacophony. Then, like a waterfall, grotesque birds that had been lurking in the shadows burst forth, surging into the sky.

As if they had caught the scent of flesh, they dove toward them. And the first target they locked onto was An Ran, who was trailing behind!

An Ran gripped the rope. He was being dragged at high speed through the air by the scooter, yet he showed no sign of falling at all! Mr. Zhang had once told Ji Jue that among the techniques passed down by followers of the White Deer Path was a method of freely channeling and controlling spirit matter, allowing one to become as light as a feather and capable of leaping dozens of meters in a single bound.

With the addition of special blessings from the Supreme Benevolence, even more insane effects could be achieved. One could fall into water without sinking, instead stepping across the waves and drifting freely over surging currents, or conversely, increase one’s weight and root oneself firmly to the ground.

What Ji Jue was witnessing now far surpassed even those rumors.

With the blessing’s amplification, An Ran’s already negligible weight had been completely erased by the White Deer’s spirit techniques, leaving him impossibly light. Like a kite, he soared freely through the air! Even as several monstrous birds pursued and surrounded him, closing in from all sides, An Ran simply waved his hand, signaling Ji Jue not to worry.

Then, with another flick of his hand, a sharp, piercing shriek burst from his fingertips, attacking the eardrums like thunder. A faint white streak shot out from his fingers, darting like lightning, twisting and turning freely through the air with effortless grace before sweeping past and returning to his hand.

Only then did Ji Jue see clearly what it was: a thin iron shard, heated red from friction with the air, slightly warped. It was barely two fingers wide, just over a finger long, and no thicker than a razor blade.

A moment later, sprays of blood erupted violently in midair. The monster birds abruptly lost all momentum, spewing either inky green or crimson fluids as they were torn apart. Limbs and torsos split and scattered, the pieces falling down to the ground below. Not a single creature survived.

Amid the blood-laden gale rushing toward him, Ji Jue saw the smile on An Ran’s face, which looked pure and overflowing with joy. Perhaps, this was what he was truly like. Unlike other families, the An family’s rules were extremely rigid. They strongly rejected self-awakenings, which others could consider more suited to one’s own nature. Instead, every generation underwent directed ascension through rituals aligned with the White Deer.

Regardless of whether they were direct descendants, collateral relatives, or adopted orphans, all children of the An family would undergo the same ritual at the age of six. Yet the requirements were extremely harsh, and only a handful managed to pass each generation.

Those who failed would be assigned to the Outer House. If, within three generations, no one from their line could pass the ritual selection, they would be struck down from the family registry. For those without talent, being tied to the An family was no blessing.

As for those who succeeded in the higher calling, the ability they awakened was always the same. It was the plain, straightforward, and unyielding Catapult[1].

To put it bluntly, it meant throwing things. Only, compared to ordinary people, they could throw farther, faster, and harder, so powerful that even others chosen by fate could only trail far behind!

This was the terror of inheritance. Such a simple technique, refined and honed over generations, had developed into something vast and profound, far beyond what ordinary people could imagine.

Within the An family, this art was codified as Hurling Pot Ritual[2]. Like a pastime of ancient nobles during feasts and revelry, its name sounded gentle and elegant, masking the bloodshed and death it unleashed when its edge was revealed.

Now, as An Ran swayed with the wind, every flick of his fingers caused bursts of blood to explode in midair. Wails and shrieks erupted one after another incessantly.

The thick scent of blood seemed to drive the massive creature lurking within the ruined building into an even greater frenzy. As it pursued them, it kept opening its maw, not even waiting for the carcasses of the monster birds to hit the ground before devouring them. The more it ate, the hungrier it became. Ring after ring of those grotesque compound eyes had already locked onto the “chef” in midair, refusing to give up!

Damn it, you’re just fixated on this one bite, aren’t you?

Ji Jue felt completely numb. He twisted the throttle to its limit, pouring every last drop of his spirit matter into Horsey. The engine roared violently, both exhaust pipes blasting out blue flames like rocket thrusters. The scooter’s speed surged once more!

Just like that, it darted and leapt nimbly between broken buildings, scrambling across collapsed ruins and scattered bricks and stones, as if this entire sequence was some cursed game cutscene with no QTE[3] prompts and everything requiring full manual control. It was a desperate escape for their lives!

1. Here, the author uses the term 投射, which is made of the words 投(“toss”) and 射(“shoot”). Usually, the term 投射 means “projection” which doesn’t really sound quite right in this context. Hence, I chose to translate it as “Catapult” here to embody the “toss” and “shoot” meaning in the term instead of something literal like “Projection.” It fits this context better and sounds more appropriate/natural-sounding as a move name in English. ☜

2. The 掷壶 here probably refers to 投壶 Touhu, which is a game in which participants take turns throwing arrows into the mouth of a wine pot. It was a traditional Chinese game popular among the Han people from the Spring and Autumn period all the way to the late Qing dynasty, and it also spread to the Korean Peninsula, Japan, and Vietnam. ☜

3. A Quick Time Event (QTE) is a video game mechanic where players must press specific buttons or perform actions within a limited time during cutscenes to avoid failure or progress. Originating from games like Dragon's Lair (1983), it enhances interactivity during cinematic moments, commonly seen in action-adventure games. ☜