The lecture hall was a tomb of quiet boredom. Professor Li's droning voice echoed against the high ceilings, dissecting supply-side economic theories that felt as relevant to Lin Feng's life as ancient poetry. He slumped in his seat, chin propped on his hand, watching dust motes dance in a sliver of afternoon sun cutting through the tall windows. Just twenty more minutes, he thought, his gaze drifting over the sea of equally glazed-over classmates. His best friend Zhang Wei was already dozing softly two rows ahead, head bobbing like a buoy on a gentle sea.
Lin Feng sighed, a soft, inaudible thing lost in the academic hum. He was just an ordinary twenty-year-old college student—decent grades, a small apartment off-campus, a future as blurry and undefined as the chalk smudges on the blackboard. He dreamed sometimes, of course—vague fantasies of adventure or importance—but they always faded by morning, replaced by the practical need to study for exams and pay his rent.
Then, the world changed.
It started with a flicker at the edge of his vision. A faint, transparent blue rectangle, like a holographic pop-up from a cheap sci-fi movie. He blinked, rubbing his eyes. Too much late-night gaming, he chided himself.
But the rectangle didn't vanish. It solidified.
[Global System Initializing…]
The text was clear, crisp, and written in a language he instinctively understood, yet it hovered in the air, superimposed over Professor Li's frowning face. A collective gasp rippled through the lecture hall. Lin Feng wasn't the only one seeing it. Students straightened up, whispering, pointing at the empty air before them.
"What… what is that?" someone muttered.
"Is this a prank? A new AR app?"
Professor Li paused, peering over his glasses. "Is there a problem?"
Before anyone could answer, the blue screen flashed, and new lines of text scrolled rapidly.
[Integration Protocol Commencing.]
[Mana Saturation of Terran Atmosphere: Complete.]
[Dimensional Barriers: Thinned.]
[Welcome to the New Era.]
A profound, silent shudder passed through the very air. It wasn't a sound, but a feeling—a vibration in the bones, a shift in gravity. The light from the windows seemed to warp for a second. Then, the screaming started.
Outside in the courtyard, a sound like tearing fabric ripped through the calm campus afternoon. Followed by guttural, chittering screeches.
CRASH!
One of the large, stained-glass windows lining the upper hall shattered inward. Not from a thrown rock, but from a small, green, and hideously ugly creature that clambered through the broken frame. It was about three feet tall, with leathery skin, pointed ears, and beady black eyes full of malicious intelligence. It clutched a crude, knobby club in its clawed hands.
A goblin.
The word surfaced from the depths of Lin Feng's memory, a label from a hundred fantasy games. It was impossible. It had to be a hallucination.
The goblin screeched, revealing rows of needle-like yellow teeth, and leaped from the windowsill onto a student's desk below. Chaos erupted. Chairs scraped and toppled as students scrambled back, screams tearing the academic quiet to shreds. Professor Li stood frozen behind his lectern, his face ashen.
More tearing sounds came from outside, followed by more screeches. The campus was descending into bedlam.
"Run! Just run!" someone yelled.
A stampede began toward the main doors. Lin Feng, driven by pure adrenaline, shoved himself from his seat. His eyes found Zhang Wei, now wide awake and petrified in the aisle. "Zhang Wei! Move!"
His shout broke his friend's paralysis. Zhang Wei stumbled into the fleeing crowd. Lin Feng pushed forward, his heart hammering against his ribs. The goblin by the window was busy smashing a laptop, cackling. But as Lin Feng neared the door, a piercing shriek came from his right.
A female student had tripped over an overturned chair, sprawled on the cold floor. Behind her, another goblin, this one wielding a rusty shard of metal like a knife, was skittering toward her, its intent horrifyingly clear.
Without thinking, Lin Feng veered from the exit. He couldn't just leave her. He threw himself between the fallen student and the monster. "Get up! Go!" he yelled at her, his voice rough with fear.
The goblin hissed, annoyed at the interference. It lunged, its makeshift knife aimed at Lin Feng's chest. He threw himself backward, the rusted metal slicing through the fabric of his jacket sleeve instead of his flesh. He stumbled, his back hitting a row of fixed chairs. He was cornered.
The goblin advanced, chittering in triumph. The fallen student scrambled away and disappeared into the panicked flow out the door. Lin Feng was alone in the emptying aisle with the monster. He looked around desperately for a weapon—a chair leg, a fire extinguisher—but there was nothing within reach.
The goblin raised its club, a nasty, spiked knot of wood at its end. Time seemed to slow. Lin Feng could see the grime under its nails, the saliva dripping from its jaws. This was it. He was going to die in his economics lecture, killed by a creature from a fairy tale.
A strange calm settled over him. His fear didn't vanish, but it was pushed aside by a surreal clarity. So this is how it ends. Not with a bang, but with a goblin's club.
The creature's muscles coiled for the final swing.
And then, the world went gold.
A screen, radiant and shimmering with a light that felt ancient and profound, exploded into existence before Lin Feng's eyes. It was nothing like the cold, blue global screens. This was warm, personal, and addressed to him alone. The goblin, the chaotic hall, the sounds of distant screams—all seemed to fade into a dull buzz.
The text on the golden screen burned itself into his soul.
[Unique System Detected.]
[Host Compatibility: 100%.]
[Activating…]
[Welcome to the Supreme Skills & Goddess Harem System.]
The goblin's club, having completed its swing with terrible force, was a fraction of an inch from his temple.
Everything stopped.
To be continued...