Chapter 9: The Hunter and the Hollow
The mountains north of Qingmei were no place for the idle.
Even before the fall of the Systems, they were a wild stretch of fractured earth and deep ravines, rumored to house old beasts and older sins. After the Collapse, they grew quieter — not safer.
Yan Long had made his way here only once before, long ago, on a mission the System had framed as a "Minor Faction Diplomacy Opportunity." He'd nearly lost an arm to a spirit pretending to be a bridge.
This time, he came on his own. No glowing prompt. No reward screen. Just Mei-Lin's warning echoing in the back of his mind, and a strange pressure building in the sky — like the world holding its breath.
He didn't travel alone.
Bai, the fox spirit, walked beside him in his smaller form — white fur now streaked with gray, though he'd never admit it. His ears twitched constantly. He didn't trust mountains. Said they were arrogant.
"Are we following riddles from girls who claim they've died before now?" Bai muttered.
"We're verifying," Yan said.
"Right. That's what they all say before jumping off cliffs."
They found him three days in.
Or rather, he found them.
It was nightfall, and their campfire was small — just enough for warmth, not visibility. Yan was grinding herbs when he felt it: a shift, like the ground had blinked.
Bai snapped upright, fur bristling. "Something's watching us."
A rustle behind a tree. Then a figure — tall, gaunt, wearing half-armor stitched together with scavenged silk. His face was pale, sharp. His eyes… hollow, but not lifeless.
He raised one hand, palm open. "Help me."
Bai immediately hissed. "Don't you dare."
Yan stood. The blade stayed sheathed — but close. "You're injured."
The man nodded slowly. "I don't know my name. But I know I'm dangerous."
He stepped into the firelight. Scars lined his arms, but more than that — symbols. Ghosts of System commands faded into his skin like tattoos trying to forget themselves.
[Skill Fragment: Assimilation Detected]
[Warning: Instability Threshold at 68%]
The old interface flickered in Yan's mind like a dying match.
It was back.
Bai leapt to Yan's shoulder. "He's not just unstable — he's contagious. That's System rot. If he breaks containment—"
"Enough," Yan said.
The man fell to one knee, breathing hard. "I didn't ask for this. I was… a villain, once. I think. I remember… blood. Power. But now—now I just want to stop hurting."
His voice cracked. "They're hunting me. I don't know who they are yet. But they know I'm loose."
Yan met his gaze. "What's the last thing you remember?"
The man blinked. "A red crown. Then pain."
Bai froze. "Yan. He was part of it."
"The Crimson God."
The man nodded. "Whatever it was, I don't want it anymore."
Silence.
Then Yan spoke: "You can stay with us. For now."
Bai growled. "And when he explodes into glitches?"
"Then I'll do what's necessary. But not before."
The man bowed his head. "Thank you."
Yan offered a name. "Daojin. Until you remember who you are, take that one."
Daojin accepted it like a sentence and a salvation in one.
That night, as the fire crackled and Bai pretended to sleep, Yan sat up, watching the stars. The air buzzed faintly now — a background noise like static behind a smile.
And in the far corners of his mind, the System flickered again. But this time, it didn't offer a quest.
It offered a warning.
[System Restoration Detected: 1% Complete]