Chapter Two: Abilities
As the white spiritual light entered his body, it spread throughout Liang Jing's form, filling him with a gentle warmth so comfortable it made him want to moan. It seemed to be nourishing him, every cell greedily absorbing the expanding white radiance like parched earth soaking in rain, becoming round, saturated, and strong. Even the minor ailments accumulated over the past twenty years were dissolved by this soothing white light, transformed into small amounts of foul, black matter expelled through his pores.
For a moment, his body felt better than ever before—so pleasurable he felt as fresh as a newborn. His senses—smell, touch, even vision and hearing—were all sharpened and enhanced. Under the influence of the two clusters of white light, he underwent a dramatic transformation, reminiscent of the legendary cleansing and refinement of bone and marrow.
Liang Jing's face was flush with excitement. The effect of the two white orbs entering his body was so mysterious that he couldn't help thinking: these rays that emerged from the slain mutated mosquitoes reminded him of the experience points gained from defeating monsters in games. It was exactly the same as the game screen he saw when reinstalling the client earlier.
He stood there, dumbfounded, pinched his thigh—pain! He looked out the window: yes, this was still the same Clearwater Bay and his rented room on Earth. This wasn’t a dream. What had happened to the world? His mind was full of questions.
Liang Jing was a seasoned internet enthusiast, fond of both online games and novels. He’d read enough web novels to have indulged in all sorts of fantasies, even wild and bizarre mutations. But novels were fiction, fantasies just dreams, not reality—certainly not something that would happen to him. Now, however, it had truly happened, and he found himself struggling to accept it. The world had become both familiar and strange, and he was filled with questions.
Yet Liang Jing was not one to get lost in overthinking. If he couldn’t understand it, he would set it aside. As long as this was real, it was a good thing. At least he now had some means to resist the mutated monsters outside.
But he wondered: was this change universal, with everyone able to gain white radiance from killing monsters? Or was it a special ability unique to himself?
If it was unique to him, then...
His breathing quickened as he glanced at the half-meter-long knife and copper coin on the bed. He knew what this meant!
But then, his excitement waned. He silently reminded himself that it was impossible for him to be the protagonist—surely everyone had this ability, and perhaps the whole world had become gamified.
To be honest, Liang Jing had never wanted to be the kind of person who, after learning a secret technique, would leave it for a “fated” successor. He wanted to learn it, remember it, and then decisively destroy all traces, reducing it to ashes. Maybe someday he’d find someone he liked to pass it on, but he believed that enjoying something alone was better than sharing it with everyone. Once he’d had enough fun, he could let someone else enjoy it. He chuckled.
Though such thoughts would surely be criticized, Liang Jing didn’t care. With so many wealthy heirs causing trouble, why don’t they share their riches with those in need? With countless poor and sick people in the world, why do so few donate money, blood, or organs? If those who loved to attack others’ morality were truly virtuous, the world would be a better place! At least it wouldn’t be as it is now.
Even if there were many genuinely moral people, Liang Jing would not feel guilty, nor would he change, for he was unapologetically selfish!
In his view, everyone’s mouth belonged to themselves and could be used as they pleased, but before criticizing others, one should consider if they are also selfish. If so, why insult or attack others when they owe you nothing? That’s even more repugnant than hypocrisy.
Of course, if he was well-fed and clothed, Liang Jing wouldn’t mind giving someone a piece of bread—that was his basic nature, unchanged!
Standing by the bed for a while, Liang Jing needed time to digest the impact of what had happened.
Gradually, excitement returned to him. The earlier terror from the carnage and monstrous threats outside was swept away, replaced by hope for the future. Nothing is more frightening than losing hope and becoming numb!
Liang Jing, twenty-six, nearly thirty, unmarried, had once worked as a butcher in his hometown, slaughtering pigs for a living. Disaster forced him to seek work elsewhere, leading him to Clearwater Bay in K City, southern Jiangnan. Hardship had brought him many blows and trials, but he had never submitted.
It was like buying lottery tickets: though he’d only ever found money three times, never more than five yuan, and only won twice in scratch-offs—again, five yuan at most—he kept buying the double-color lottery, never missing a draw. One was random, the other a fixed set of numbers that never changed—his hope. Liang Jing refused to believe luck would always elude him; surely, if he kept at it, he’d eventually win.
No matter how harsh reality was, even when he was driven from his home, he never became numb. Complaints were only his way of easing inner pain.
Now, how could he not be excited? Whether this power belonged to everyone or just himself, effort would bring rewards, and that made him happy. What he feared most was striving with no avenue or return. He never believed himself inferior or unable to compete with others—he had a proud heart!
This unique power could change the world.
After a while, Liang Jing finally suppressed his excitement and collected himself.
“Haha! Heaven finally opens its eyes! You finally let me find a key…” he muttered in a low, strange tone, looking up.
Perhaps it was the release of years of pent-up frustration—never having surrendered despite countless setbacks—now, with hope in sight, his eyes grew moist. He had endured much, burying the bitterness deep inside.
He stood up, clenched his fists, and kicked his legs, feeling lighter, more agile, and stronger than before. He couldn’t help but indulge in self-admiration. Now, after being reinforced by the white spiritual light, he probably wasn’t inferior to those WWE wrestling stars.
Standing 1.78 meters tall and weighing nearly 80 kilograms, his physique was robust but not bulky. Though he’d never studied traditional martial arts, he had trained since childhood and soaked in medicinal baths, making him stronger than most, especially now that the white spiritual light had healed his hidden injuries.
Admiring himself in the half-length mirror he’d “borrowed” from the landlord, he noticed his skin had become much fairer. His previously ordinary face now seemed sharper, yet still pleasing.
“[Short Knife] Quality: White, Sharpness: 3, Toughness: 5, Weight: 6, Equip Requirement: Strength; 1.”
Equipment grades were: white (common), blue (elite), green (excellent), gold (legendary), and so on. The strength requirement of 1 corresponded to the average adult male's strength.
Liang Jing held the 3-kilogram short knife, about half a meter long with a thick spine, resembling a machete but with a smaller angle between tip and edge, making it sharper and better for thrusting. The blade gleamed silvery white; the edge flashed coldly, feeling much sharper than his usual knives. Running his finger along the blade, he could clearly feel the rough friction of his fingerprints against the edge.
He swung the knife with satisfaction, feeling its power and responsiveness. With a sudden burst of force, he struck the thick wooden leg of the table; it broke cleanly, the cut smooth and even, showing he could fully exert his strength.
He even took out a rarely used stainless steel kitchen knife and, holding both knives in each hand, struck them against each other.
Crack—
The thin stainless steel kitchen knife snapped instantly. Though the break wasn’t perfectly smooth, it proved the system-produced blade was of exceptional quality—sharp and durable.
He caressed the blade, knowing it was his lifeline, his companion for life and death in the days ahead. He was quite satisfied.
Ancient soldiers’ standard weapons weighed four to eight catties, typically for ordinary troops, not including heavy cavalry or officers. Now that he had a weapon, it was time to find food and, yes, hunt monsters to strengthen himself. Well, it sounded like anything but proper business.
Seeing the yellowish copper coin left on the bed, he picked it up, unwilling to waste it.
“You’ve obtained a copper coin.”
Suddenly, eight slots appeared in his mind, accompanied by data: Gold: 0, Silver: 0, Copper: 1.
Was this an inventory? An item bar like those in games?
The style was identical, though it seemed to be an 8x8 grid, totaling sixty-four slots! Another question, but he decided not to dwell on it—no point wasting brain cells.
Though eight slots seemed a bit few, Liang Jing felt more joy than disappointment. With eight item bar slots, life would be much more convenient. One must learn to be content—contentment brings happiness.
He also realized his special ability contained many mysteries. He would have to experiment more in the future to uncover further benefits.
Holding a book, he tried to move it with a thought, and it disappeared from his hand, appearing in the item bar slot. Liang Jing was delighted—it could store real-world items.
He even opened a pack of toothpicks and stored them one by one in the item slots. Each slot could stack up to 999 toothpicks—perfect! Just like in games.
Invincible! Yes, truly invincible! Staring at the item bar interface, Liang Jing was again uncontrollably excited. This eight-slot inventory was an absolute artifact. No matter the occasion, its usefulness would be immeasurable.
Similar items could stack up to 999 in a slot. Imagine carrying 999 packs of rice, 999 packs of sausages, and so on, with no extra weight and freedom of movement. It would be a tremendous boost for future survival.
Liang Jing then stored all useful items from his room, such as the steel pot, mosquito net, quilt, and blanket, planning to upgrade as better ones became available in the future.