Chapter Two: A Ruthless Character

Achievement Unlocked: “A Ruthless One”
Completion Requirement: Recklessly test the boundaries of courting disaster three times; current progress: 1/3.
Reward: Unknown.

Yu Ge halted, his awareness delving into the depths of his mind.

Within the dim, mysterious starry sky, countless stars were scattered across the expanse. One larger star sat at the center, radiating a faint gleam. The backdrop was an abyss of profound, endless blackness—strange, yet tranquil. All these stars had once been dull and lifeless.

At this moment, two of them shimmered faintly, representing the two achievements currently triggered. One achievement, which he had previously racked his brains to unlock, had now lit up unexpectedly. Yet the requirement this time was peculiar—what exactly did “testing the boundaries” entail? Still, if it was merely flirting with disaster, that should be easy enough.

The mention of courting disaster made him automatically recall the circumstances under which he’d triggered his first and second achievements—both seemed tinged with reckless risk.

Thinking carefully about these achievements and their requirements, he sensed a strange connection. Whether it was the “Cliffhanger Fiend” or this new achievement, they all seemed to involve him dancing on the edge of disaster, as if the completion itself was inseparable from that very concept.

Consider, for example, if the storyteller’s audience was a short-tempered adult, and upon hearing such an outlandish, unsatisfying ending, who knew if a club wouldn’t come flying his way as punishment for the abrupt cliffhanger?

As for this reckless testing, he had no doubt that the process of completion was inherently bound up with danger.

With this in mind, Yu Ge felt he was beginning to understand. The edge of disaster—was it a matter of subjective feeling or objective reality? Was it what ordinary people considered dangerous, or merely what he himself perceived as risk? What was the standard of judgment?

If it were the former, then the danger in his actions would have an implicit requirement. If the latter, then there was much greater room for manipulation.

But this thing came with no beginner’s guide, and he had no way to ask further.

He turned to look at his dwelling behind him. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, his gaze fell upon the high step before the door, and he paused, stroking his chin in contemplation.

Next, putting on a solemn air, he stepped inside. This time, as his trailing foot crossed, he slowed and deliberately stumbled over the high threshold, pitching forward dramatically.

Staggering, Yu Ge grabbed a stone bench for support, then exaggeratedly clutched his ankle, wincing as if in excruciating pain. With a helpless sigh, he exclaimed, “Ah, this threshold is so high! I’ve never noticed before—nearly broke my neck just now.”

Silence.

Deathly silence.

Yu Ge waited expectantly for that mysterious, unfathomable voice.

But no response came for a long while.

He furrowed his brow, lost in thought.

“Is it possible my posture is wrong?”

He stopped massaging his leg, stepped outside, hesitated, and this time led with his right foot, letting his left foot catch on the threshold.

“If I fall like this, I might not get up without a few broken bones.”

Still, nothing but silence. Only the sound of the wind in the courtyard.

Yu Ge kept trying. Left foot, right foot, both feet, every manner of stumbling he could imagine—yet all to no avail.

Now he was feeling rather dejected. He even began to miss his Assam milk tea.

He didn’t think his acting was over the top; surely the problem lay with the threshold itself.

Leaving the threshold behind, he entered the courtyard, glanced at the black iron dagger at his waist, reached for it but ultimately decided against it. Instead, he went into the kitchen and emerged holding a kitchen knife.

He had no desire to experiment with that cursed dagger.

Sitting on the stone bench, he straightened his back, arranged his posture, extended his right hand, and held the kitchen knife poised above his right hand with his left.

With a grave expression, he released the knife.

The knife clattered to the ground with a crisp sound, and at the same time Yu Ge let out a trembling, fear-filled wail that could move one to tears. “Oh, I nearly cut off my fingers! This knife is terrifying!”

The kitchen knife lay quietly on the ground, reflecting the sky above, utterly unresponsive—as if mocking him in silence.

Unperturbed, Yu Ge picked up the knife and brushed the flat of the blade across his palm.

“At that moment, the edge of the knife was only 0.03 centimeters from my skin. If I’d been off by even a fraction, my tender flesh would have had an intimate encounter with the blade.”

Still, there was no response.

A series of trials left Yu Ge feeling rather frustrated.

He paused, pondering whether the issue lay in his initiating the actions, or if the achievements could only be triggered passively.

He recalled his previous experiments and the subtle differences between those and the actual achievement triggers.

That abrupt cliffhanger truly could have gotten him hacked to pieces, and as for the falling black iron dagger earlier, had he not reacted quickly enough, he might really have lost something.

As for his current experiments—they looked dangerous, but in truth, posed no real threat.

With that realization, Yu Ge picked up the kitchen knife once more, but this time, instead of placing his hand to the side, he positioned it directly beneath the suspended blade.

He dropped the knife.

He withdrew his hand.

The kitchen knife crashed to the ground.

Instantly, a familiar, enigmatic message echoed in his heart and mind.

Achievement Unlocked: “Break Their Blade”
Completion Requirement: Sever the enemy’s weapon one hundred times; current progress: 0/100.
Reward: Unknown.

In the boundless star map, a dim star began to glow.

Yu Ge’s eyes lit up at once.

So, it’s a matter of probability, he thought. If he placed his hand beneath the falling knife and withdrew at the last instant, it was clear that had he been any slower, he would have been genuinely cut. Thus, the mechanism had recognized the danger—though the odds were slim.

This realization both thrilled and astonished him, yet now was not the time for further experiments.

By now, the sun had set, and a strange red moon climbed into the sky. Beyond the village, the shadows of distant mountains were shrouded in rolling waves of crimson mist, accompanied by the howls of unknown beasts.

The peaceful serenity of daylight had been replaced with an otherworldly menace.

Such was the nature of this bizarre world.

Yet, as the red mist swept toward the edge of the village, it was halted by a pitch-black wall that flickered with faint, shifting light.

Villagers said that beneath the foundation stones of the wall, ancestral talismans had been etched, keeping the red mist at bay and preventing monsters from entering.

As for whether other towns had similar defenses or different methods, he did not know.

His predecessor had only ever ventured as far as the redwood forest a dozen miles to the east, never visiting other settlements, much less the great cities he’d heard of in passing.

So, naturally, he remained uncertain.

Even knowing the wall offered some protection, Yu Ge could not entirely set his mind at ease.

In a world as eerie and unpredictable as this, no one could say what would happen next. Compared to that wall, even a single cigarette felt more reassuring.