I died. Or I thought I did.
I wasn't supposed to hear anything, at least, that's what people say about death . But I did.
Sounds rang out around me, distant echoes, mechanical beeping, and then another strange sound… like someone was flipping through the pages of a very old, very pissed-off book.
I cautiously forced my eyes open, blinking against the harsh light in whatever room I was in.
As my vision slowly adjusted, a red holographic screen floated above me. Words flickered across it, taking my brain far too long to read.
『Initializing…』
『Reader Judgmental System Booting
Accessing Comment Archives…』
"What…"
『Mission 000: Survive.』
『Penalty for Failure: Death. (Again.)
Bonus Objective: Exterminate commenter #Ryan_d34i
Time Limit: 5 minutes (Inactive for now)』
I blinked, making sure I wasn't hallucinating. I could still hear multiple voices, layered, like a thousand people whispering at once.
The lights above me still burned my retina, no matter how tightly I tried to squint.
The ceiling was white, too sterile....definitely a hospital.
I groaned. Every part of me feeling like it had been individually murdered.
The pain, whenever it happened, had dulled. Probably numbed by drugs or anesthetic.
There was an IV in my arm.
My chest was wrapped in spotless bandages, which meant someone had just changed them.
That meant I'd made it. I was alive. Breathing, Barely, but still.
A nurse spotted me awake and let out a startled shout
Moments later, four doctors rushed in. And behind them… the Principal?
Master Rengold?
Why was he here?
I dragged my gaze toward the doorway, hoping I'd see him, but I doubt he knew I survived.
"Han Xueling…" Master Rengold muttered. "What kind of demon are you?"
I didn't answer.
Definitely not a demon.
I wasn't even sure what I was anymore.
I was Han and Zhrak. I was the writer and the character too, but certainly not a demon.
According to the doctors, I'd been unconscious for weeks.
A few days after I woke up, I was discharged, still sore everywhere.
They gave me a plastic bag full of gauze, alcohol, and other things I couldn't pronounce.
The prescriptions were extensive, so Master Rengold handled them himself.
The herbs looked ancient and impossible to find, but given how I created this world, they told me not to worry about those.
No one visited anyway, or offered condolences. No one except him and the pretty nurses, with tasty treats and massages.
Not even the so-called "hero," despite being informed.
Coward.
I returned to the Academy one last time, my few belongings tucked into a plain black case.
The building looked exactly how I wrote it. Gray stone walls, spiked towers, rusted fences pretending to be gothic architecture.
The tops of the towers still loomed above, where we, the Avens, once practiced aerial training.
Everything else felt… old. Like walking through a story long since closed.
Especially the lecture halls.
"Student Han," a clerk called as I stepped into the reception office.
I turned to the right, where the desk had always been, and bowed slightly.
She lifted a folder with my name printed boldly at the top. "You're here for your clearance, right?"
Not really.
Honestly, I was just here to see the academy again, not as a student, but as the creator.
Still… now that she mentioned it..
I nodded.
She handed me the file and a folder.
"Your documents. Graduation was processed automatically due to your condition, and the principal mentioned you're not a fan of parties…"
How considerate of him to actually remember that.
"…Yes, ma'am."
She smiled warmly. "Also," she added, passing me an envelope, "your post assignment came in early."
I stared at the brown paper envelope, staple piercing the corner like an execution notice.
From: Shanlu, House Lian
Emperor Huang Zhongyu
To: Khalinovka, Central Scout Academy
Cadet Han Xueling
I sighed, already knowing what it meant. Carefully, I pulled out the letter and unfolded it.
Posting: Shanlu, Eastern Sector
Assigned To: House Lian — Personal Guard to His Majesty.
Rotational Apothecary Apprentice to Houses Lian, Azumabito, Beak, and Wū
"…Is this a joke?" I muttered, my gaze darkening as I scanned the absurd amount of responsibility slapped under my name.
"Nope," she replied, handing me a heavy long box.
"Your uniform. Welcome to the Scouts. I'd recommend not bleeding on it."
I opened the case.
Inside was a full suit.
First hanfu robes, jet black,made of sleek, reinforced, flame-resistant fabric. Lightweight but thick where it mattered.
It was really good looking.
Folded materials, that I assumed was the inner part, probably the first piece.
Made for covering the entire face, equipped with breath filters and a symbol embroidered into the breast area.
零 — Zero.
Then a bunch of oversized trousers, the second piece.
Beside it sat a set of wide, conical rice hat—the kind swordsmen wore in old martial dramas.
And boots that were heavy at the soles, deliberately weighted to keep impulsive Avens grounded.
There was also a built-in inhibitor system for "discipline and discretion."
That was a really smart idea I created there.
Unfortunately, I was the one wearing it now.
Still, maybe it was for the best. With my assignment in the Eastern Sector, far from Central, all the attention and whispers wouldn't follow me.
In short, perfect news.
And by perfect, I meant perfectly miserable. Naturally.
—
It was exactly how I imagined it.
After leaving the city by public bus and switching to horseback, courtesy of the academy, I approached the Eastern Zone.
I passed through the Eastern range gates and into Shanlu's inner gates, riding through the traditional city I knew far too well.
Above the clouds, carved into the cliffs on massive terraces, stood the Four Emperor Houses. Aligned in a line, distant but visible.
Each was designed in a traditional style, with their flags at the top gates.
Curved flowing roofs, hanging lanterns, cobbled stone paths, and grasslands separating them from the modern sprawl below.
House Lian stood alone on the western cliff, isolated as always.
Azumabito was farther east, surrounded by sakura groves and high walls.
Far below the peaks, in the valley carved by silver rivers, stood House Beak and House Wū—sharing a sprawling joint estate.
United through marriage, their banners flew side by side like they had something to prove.
But once you left those sacred ridges and past the inner gates, before the outer gates of the main range city.
Highways. Neon signs. Skyscrapers made of chrome and mirrored glass.
Mag-lev trains gliding beneath skybridges. Drones buzzing over floating market stalls. Holographic cafes blinking with artificial warmth.
It was traditional colliding with modern.
Exactly like I'd written it.
And that terrified me.
Because if this world still existed…
Then everything else I wrote did too.
Even the monsters.
My boots dragged with every step, heavy with enforced discipline. I knew I would barely hover, let alone fly.
Still, if I could just make it to House Lian, maybe I'd get a moment to breathe.