Chapter 1: System's First Spark
In the mist-shrouded Holy Soul Village, tucked against the untamed edge of the Star Dou Forest, life plodded along with the cadence of sowing and reaping. The village's only claim to fame was a faded legend of a Spirit Sage, a tale that lingered in the elders' hushed stories. For me, Fang Shen, an orphan cobbled together from the ruins of a beast tide that claimed my parents, this place was both refuge and restraint.
I wasn't born of this world—not in the truest sense. My earliest memories were shards of another life, where *Douluo Dalu* was a story of martial souls, spirit rings, and grand battles. Yet here I was, abandoned as a crying infant at Old Jack's doorstep, raised on the village's sparse charity in a creaky orphanage hut. Six years of hauling buckets, weeding fields, and dodging scrapes with tougher kids had forged me into a lean boy, just shy of my sixth birthday. All the while, I clutched a secret sharper than any scythe: I knew the plot. Tang San, the boy in the dilapidated forge down the path, was the protagonist. Blue Silver Grass, Clear Sky Hammer, Tang Sect arts—he was destined to soar, a comet across the continent.
Tang San and I weren't strangers. Growing up in this mud-streaked village, we'd shared passing moments—tossing stones in idle games, swapping nods during chores. He was quiet, always slipping off to train at dawn, but approachable enough. I'd kept my distance, biding my time. The spirit awakening ceremony, a month away, would ignite his path. If I could become his friend, his ally, his rise could lift me too. In this world of spirit power and danger, binding myself to the strong was my best shot.
A month before the awakening, everything changed. I was crouched on a hill overlooking the forge, watching Tang San practice at dawn. He sat cross-legged, his small frame exuding a calm intensity, breath steady as if channeling some hidden force. I'd seen it before—his Tang Sect internal arts, though he never called them that. Today, though, something caught my eye. As he shifted, a small, colorful ball—sparkling with flecks of red, blue, and gold—slipped from his sleeve and rolled into the grass. He didn't notice, lost in his trance.
Then it came—a sound that stopped my heart.
*Ding! Detected a treasure: Record Technique. Do you want to pick up?*
The voice rang in my mind, clear and otherworldly. Before I could process it, another chime sounded, and a glowing panel flickered into existence before my eyes, like a window from another world.
*System Introduction: Attribute Collection System activated. Host can pick up attributes, techniques, soul rings, martial souls, and enhancements such as strength, speed, mental power, endurance, affinity, bloodline, and soul power when actions are performed in proximity. Observe, collect, grow.*
*Status Window:*
- *Name*: Fang Shen
- *Age*: 5 years, 11 months, 20 days
- *Race*: Human
- *Strength*: 0.4 (Average male strength: 1)
- *Speed*: 0.3
- *Endurance*: 0.5
- *Mental Power*: 1.6
- *Soul Power*: 0.5
- *Martial Soul*: Unawakened (Blue Silver Grass)
- *Soul Ring*: None
I stared, jaw slack, as the panel hovered, its numbers searing into my mind. My stats were pitiful—strength and speed below average, endurance barely scraping by. But mental power? 1.6—higher than I'd expected, maybe from my otherworldly knowledge. And Blue Silver Grass as my martial soul? The same as Tang San's, though unawakened. A coincidence, or fate? My heart raced. This was it—a system, a golden finger, like the seniors in my old world's stories had boasted about.
Excitement burst free. "Yes! Finally! The seniors didn't lie—my golden finger's here!" I shouted, fists clenched. The village dogs yowled, and I slapped a hand over my mouth, glancing at Tang San. He hadn't stirred, still deep in his meditation. My outburst hadn't reached him.
The voice chimed again.
*Ding! Do you want to pick up the Mysterious Heaven Technique?
Yes/No.*
"Yes," I whispered, eyes locked on the colorful ball. It shimmered, then vanished in a pulse of light. A warm rush flooded my body, like a scroll unfurling in my mind, brimming with knowledge I couldn't yet grasp. The Record Technique—whatever it was—felt like a spark of something vast. And this system? It could collect anything: Tang San's techniques, his soul power, maybe even fragments of his bloodline if I was near when he acted. The possibilities set my pulse ablaze.
I crept down the hill, stealing one last glance at Tang San, still oblivious. Tomorrow, I'd start weaving myself into his world, building that friendship. But with this Attribute Collection System humming in my veins, its status window etched in my mind, I wasn't just chasing his shadow. I could carve my own legend alongside him.
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