Liam watched the Shadow Worms glide through the underground terrain, their smooth, unsettling movements weaving in and out of the rocky formations.
His gaze followed them with curiosity, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied their patterns.
Every twitch, every slither he took it all in.
It felt strange.
Almost like watching his own private zoo.
Except this one… it was for this place, the 'Dungeon'
Their home and also his creation.
And that thought alone tugged a faint smile onto his lips.
"Then," he murmured, "I can finally move on to the next stage."
He needed that permission bar to rise.
Unlocking the next layer of the system meant opening new functions, and Liam was ready for it.
With a quiet flicker of will, he returned to the courtyard.
He eased down into the reclining chair, the one he'd tailored for comfort, its headrest perfectly shaped to cradle the back of his skull.
He let his body sink into the cushions, exhaling softly.
His fingers drummed once against the armrest.
"The next approach..." he muttered, voice low, "should I go with a grand fanfare that risks drawing attention, or should I keep things quiet… aim for those that might offer more value long-term?"
The words were a little convoluted, but the idea was clear enough.
Two paths.
That's all he had when it came to handling the dungeon.
Option one: go public. Open it wide. Let cultivators in, observe how they interact, maybe they'd get their own system panels, attributes, levels. Who knew? It was a dungeon, after all.
But that path… it was loud. Risky and extremely dangerous.
Liam's expression dimmed as he stared toward the clouds rolling above.
He'd read enough cultivation novels in his past life to know better than to tempt fate.
What if word spread too fast? What if those reclusive monsters, the hidden powerhouses, caught wind of it?
What if some ancient, terrifying hermit was out there, just waiting, armed with some freakish divine technique that could trace karma, predict futures, or rip secrets from the past?
What if, one day, the sky just cracked open and a Divine expert descended with a sword and a question?
He didn't know.
And worse, he didn't know if the system would protect him if it came to that.
That uncertainty alone was enough to stop him from gambling it all.
"Troublesome," Liam muttered, brow creasing into a frown.
Which left him with the second option, quiet, calculated and selective, and far safer.
Find the 'special' ones.
Because surely, he wasn't the only person in this world touched by fate.
He couldn't be.
Maybe they didn't have the same system, but luck? Fortune? Heaven-defying abilities?
Those existed. He was sure of it.
And those kinds of people, they all had something in common.
They were terrified of being exposed.
Which made them perfect.
If approached carefully, they'd have reason to work with him. They'd be just as cautious, just as desperate to stay hidden. It was a mutual need.
The more Liam thought about it, the clearer the path became.
A subtle smile curved across his lips again as the idea solidified.
He would take that second route. Slow and steady, but far less dangerous. He'd seek out the gifted, work behind the scenes, make offers they couldn't refuse.
No noise that might attract unwanted attention.
Just quiet moves in the dark.
The first step.
Find a suitable target.
And then a name surfaced in his mind.
"Ilya," Liam murmured.
His voice was quiet, nearly lost to the hush of the sky.
Yet under the blanket of darkness, his eyes gleamed with a trace of thought, as her image took shape in his mind for a brief moment.
"Hunted by powerful forces…"
He paused, letting the words hang in the air before speaking again.
"Escaped to one of the most dangerous cities in the region… right next to the Great Wilderness…"
Another pause.
"…and she has a special body constitution."
Liam repeated the facts to himself slowly, almost like he was reciting lines from a script.
Bit by bit, the dots linked up in his head, each piece snapping into place like a puzzle coming together in the dark.
"She's very likely a heroine."
A faint glimmer flickered across his face.
"And if she's a heroine," he added with a hint of amusement, "then there must be a protagonist."
But that wasn't the only possibility. Another, more troubling one crept in.
What if she was his heroine?
That thought settled heavier than the others.
He stared into the night sky, silent. Not looking at anything in particular, just letting the weight of that question sit with him.
"…Am I in a story?"
The words came out slow, nearly a whisper.
The air seemed to still around him, as if even the world itself was waiting for the answer.
His gaze lingered on the stars for a moment longer.
"…I hope not," he said.
But you are.
Whether he knew it or not, whether he accepted it or not, he was deep in it already.
Still, Liam exhaled slowly, centering himself. Breath in. Breath out.
Then he rose from the chair, movements unhurried, and turned his eyes toward the pond once again.
"We'll see soon enough," he muttered under his breath, voice soft as ripples over still water. "Whether my hunch is right or not."
He stood there, unmoving, staring at the reflection on the surface which reflected the beautiful scenery above.
"If she really is a heroine… it won't be long before the so-called protagonist appears."
His tone was flat, but the edge in his words was unmistakable.
"Logically," he continued, "since I haven't made a move yet… and assuming I'm technically a protagonist myself… that leaves a window. A chance someone else could step in and take her away."
It was a messy theory.
Crude even.
But it was all he had right now. The rules of this world, whatever they were, remained unclear.
He could only go off instinct, off the strange patterns he'd seen echo again and again according to those novels.
Still staring into the pond's glossy surface, Liam whispered one last thought.
"I just hope I won't have to wait too long."
And with that, the scene slowly drew back.
Up and away, past the courtyard, over the rooftops, disappearing into the drifting clouds above, leaving nothing but silence behind.
Then, the days began to pass, like ink bleeding across parchment.
The waiting game had started.
Most of Liam's time was spent around the farm, quietly honing his skills as a spiritual planter.
It wasn't glamorous work. But it was necessary.
He practiced the spiritual rain technique, calling down gentle spiritual mist to nourish the plants.
Refined his control over Soil Movement, guiding roots beneath the surface without disturbing their growth.
They were basic techniques, widespread enough that even lone cultivators could pick them up if they had the patience.
But Liam didn't scoff at their simplicity.
Every so often, one of his puppets would approach and give a report on Ilya's status.
If anyone strange showed up around her, if anything suspicious happened in her vicinity, Liam would know about it.
But so far... nothing.
Then, a full month passed.
High above, the wind stirred gently, brushing through the clouds like a whisper.
The city below remained unchanged on the surface, same streets, same faces, same routine, but something about the air felt different.
The mood.
It had shifted.
For weeks now, rumors had been spreading like wildfire from the distant borders.
The Red Mist Calamity had begun creeping into every corner of conversation.
And now, nearly a third of the entire region was already swallowed.
The mist crept inward in a vast, ring-like pattern, smothering the outer cities one after another.
Mortal empires disappeared beneath its red veil. Immortals fled toward the center in droves.
Even the demonic beasts had begun to migrate, roaring across the plains in great, chaotic herds, all heading in one direction.
The Great Wilderness.
A vast, ancient forest sprawled across the heart of the region like the body of some sleeping giant.
Even the beasts there had begun to stir. Which left the human race with nowhere to go.
Alas this was the cruel reality for the human race in this world.
Without our rapid reproduction capability, the human race would've been wiped out already.
Back at the pond, Liam stood in silence.
He hadn't moved for hours, hands tucked neatly behind his back, his posture still as a tree.
His eyes hadn't strayed from the surface of the water since morning.
But he wasn't simply lost in thought.
No, he was making full use of his once-a-week opportunity to comprehend the rule bubbles hovering over the dungeon's surface.
He discovered the "once-a-week" timing after weeks of waiting which he figured it out eventually.
And he had been using them mostly to comprehend his two spiritual arts to break through the next stage.
But due to the lack of proper inheritance, this would take him awhile.
His physical body remained by the pond, but his mind was elsewhere, submerged within that strange layer of laws that governed the dungeon.
He didn't need to be there in person.
His will alone was enough to observe the bubble.
Then, slowly, his expression shifted. The light in his eyes dimmed.
His breath stilled for a beat as he raised his hand with a flicker of thought.
The system panel appeared beside him, gleaming softly in the air.
Liam narrowed his gaze.