Zhou Fan stared at the glowing text in the air. His crimson eyes narrowed, reflecting the translucent light.
"Hey. You. Voice," he said, his voice cracking. "I know you can hear me. Who sent those masked people? Was it the Orthodox Sects? The Emperor's guard? Answer me!"
[ Administrator authority: Low. Information restricted. ]
"Administrator what? Stop talking in riddles," Zhou Fan snapped, reaching out to grab the text, but his hand swiped through nothing but cold air. "Are you a ghost? A demonic spirit haunting this brat's body? If you can bring me back to life, you can tell me who killed me."
[ Authority insufficient. Please complete quests to increase synchronization. ]
Zhou Fan cursed, kicking a wooden stool near the bed. His foot throbbed instantly. He looked down at his small, pale toes, then back at the mirror. This body was pathetic. There wasn't a single callus on the hands, no muscle definition in the legs—just soft, pampered skin.
He spent the next hour ransacking the room, looking for anything to explain his new life. He found several silk robes, a few low-grade spirit stones, and a wooden tablet engraved with a name.
'Kael Drazhar.'
"Kael... Drazhar?" he muttered.
The memories started to trickle in, not as a flood, but as annoying stabs of realization. He was in the Drazhar Clan, a minor, bottom-tier family within the Demonic Cult. The Drazhars were responsible for managing the cult's lower-level supply lines—essentially glorified merchants with a bit of martial arts training.
And Kael? Kael was the third son. A "good-for-nothing" who spent his allowance on expensive wine and avoided the training halls like they were infested with plague.
"I went from a Spear Master to a pampered brat in a merchant clan?" Zhou Fan's eye twitched. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"
A knock sounded at the door. A servant's voice came through the wood, shaky and hesitant. "Y-Young Master Kael? The Clan Head—your father—wants you in the main hall. It's regarding your enrollment in the Heavenly Sovereign Demon Academy."
Zhou Fan froze. "Academy? You mean... a school?"
"Yes, Young Master. All children of age must attend to prove their worth to the Cult."
Zhou Fan felt a vein pulse in his forehead. 'I was eighteen. I was a master. I was leading men into battle. And now I have to go sit in a classroom and listen to some old man drone on about basic Qi circulation?'
"Tell him I'm dead!" Zhou Fan yelled.
"P-Pardon, Young Master?"
"I'm busy!"
[ Quest Update: Gain information regarding your current environment. ] [ Progress: 100/100. ] [ Quest Completed. ] [ Reward: Demon Pearl (10 Years Internal Energy) has been sent to your Inventory. ]
Zhou Fan blinked. A small, black pearl suddenly appeared in his palm, vibrating with a dark, dense power. It felt like a concentrated knot of Qi.
'Ten years of energy in one pill? This would take a normal disciple a decade of sitting still to accumulate.'
He didn't hesitate. He sat cross-legged on the floor, the cold stone biting into his seat. He swallowed the pearl. Immediately, a torrent of heat exploded in his gut. It felt like a molten spear was trying to pierce through his dantians.
In his past life, he had developed a unique method to handle violent energy. He closed his eyes, visualizing his spirit as a spear tip, sharp and unyielding.
'Yong Clan Internal Art: The Abyssal Spear Core.'
He guided the rampaging energy, not by suppressing it, but by sharpening it. He forced the Qi to spin, narrowing the flow until it carved a path through his clogged meridians. The pain was sharp, but Zhou Fan didn't make a sound. He had survived decapitation; a little internal burning was nothing.
By the time the sun began to peek through the small window, the heat had settled into a steady, pulsing rhythm in his lower abdomen. He felt... stronger. Not enough to challenge a Life and Death realm master, but enough to not die from a stiff breeze.
He fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, exhausted by the forced cultivation.
[ ALERT: Daily Quest has arrived. ]
Zhou Fan bolted upright as the robotic voice blared in his mind like a war horn.
"Shut up! I'm sleeping!"
[ Daily Quest: The Path of the Devourer's Vessel ]
[ 1. 100 Push-ups (0/100) ]
[ 2. 100 Sit-ups (0/100) ]
[ 3. 6 Laps around the Drazhar Estate (0/6) ]
[ 4. 1 Hour of Internal Cultivation (0/1) ]
[ Reward: 100 System Credits. ]
[ Penalty for Failure: Transfer to 'The Desolate Penalty Zone' for 1 hour. ]
Zhou Fan stared at the screen. "Push-ups? Sit-ups? Are you training a martial artist or a foot soldier? I am a Spear Master! I don't need to do 'laps' like a dog!"
[ Time remaining: 15 hours. ]
"What is this 'Penalty Zone'?" Zhou Fan demanded.
[ A dimension of absolute sensory deprivation and soul-grinding pressure. ]
Zhou Fan's face went flat. "You're telling me if I don't do these pathetic exercises, you're going to torture me?"
[ Correct. ]
"I'm going to find whoever made you and I'm going to shove my spear so far up their—"
[ 14 hours, 59 minutes remaining. ]
Zhou Fan let out a long, frustrated growl that turned into a scream. He threw the covers off and hit the floor, his small arms shaking as he braced himself for the first push-up.
"I hate this life," he hissed, his face turning red after just five reps. "I hate this body, I hate this school, and I especially hate you, you metallic bastard."
'But just wait,' he thought, his eyes glowing a fierce crimson. 'Once I have my energy back...'