### Chapter 3: The Newbie Reward
The sharp, authoritative voice sliced through the ringing in Su Yuan's ears, grounding him back into the harsh reality of his situation. He stood in the wreckage of his own making, the cool morning air flowing freely through the gaping hole that was once his doorway. The faint, golden light of dawn did little to soften the scene of devastation; it only served to illuminate the blackened, molten crater in the hallway floor and the fine layer of ash coating everything.
Three figures rounded the corner, their steps quick and purposeful. The man in the lead was Instructor Valerius, a severe, middle-aged mage with a sharp jaw and eyes that seemed to miss nothing. His grey instructor's robes were immaculate, a stark contrast to the surrounding chaos. Flanking him were two senior student aides, their faces a mixture of shock and alarm as they took in the destruction.
Valerius's gaze swept the scene—the vaporized door, the scorched hallway, the trembling apprentice standing in the middle of it all—and his lips thinned into a razor-like line. He stopped just short of the crater, his eyes locking onto Su Yuan.
"Su Yuan," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "Explain this."
Su Yuan's mind, which had just navigated a life-or-death battle against monstrous beasts, now raced to confront a different kind of threat. The fear was there, a cold knot in his stomach inherited from the original owner of this body, but it was overshadowed by the analytical calm of 'Void,' the gamer. This was a social boss encounter. One wrong dialogue choice could lead to a game-over.
He couldn't tell the truth. 'A magical system gave me infinite mana and I blew up the monsters that it attracted' would get him dissected in a laboratory before lunch. He needed a plausible, if unlikely, lie.
He forced his body to tremble, letting the genuine adrenaline and mental exhaustion fuel the performance. He widened his eyes, channeling the terror a fourteen-year-old boy *should* feel after such an ordeal.
"I… I don't know, Instructor," he stammered, his voice cracking. "There were… monsters. Hounds made of shadow. They were breaking down my door."
Valerius raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Shadow Hounds? In the academy dormitories? And you, an Inferior-Tier 1 apprentice who cannot even cast a [Glow] spell properly, dealt with them by… redecorating the hallway?"
The sarcasm was as sharp as a shard of glass. One of the student aides snorted, quickly stifling the sound when Valerius shot him a sideways glance.
"I found something, sir," Su Yuan said, his voice gaining a desperate edge. "Yesterday, by the refuse heaps behind the kitchens. I thought it was just a discarded scroll. It was old, the parchment was crumbling."
This was the core of his fabricated story. A one-time-use magical item, powerful and unstable—a perfect scapegoat.
"When the hounds broke through," he continued, gesturing with a shaking hand toward the vaporized remains of his barricade, "I panicked. I grabbed the scroll and poured what little energy I had into it. I… I didn't know it would do *that*." He pointed a trembling finger at the molten crater.
Valerius's cold eyes scrutinized him, searching for any hint of deception. Su Yuan met his gaze, his expression a carefully constructed mask of terror and ignorance. Internally, he was running threat assessments. The story was thin. An apprentice finding a high-level magic scroll was rare. An apprentice of his caliber being able to activate it was even rarer. But it was not impossible. Unstable, discarded magical items could sometimes be activated by a simple spark of mana.
"A scroll?" Valerius stepped carefully around the crater, entering Su Yuan's room. The air was still thick with the scent of ozone. "Show me what's left of it."
"There's nothing left, sir," Su Yuan said, his heart hammering. This was the critical point. "It… it turned to dust the moment the spell went off. The light… it ate everything."
The instructor ran a gloved hand over Su Yuan's wobbly desk, his gaze sweeping every corner of the spartan room. He found nothing. No scroll fragments, no residual runes, no evidence of anything other than the raw, overwhelming power of the blast itself. The spell had been so powerful, so absolute, that it had conveniently erased all the evidence.
One of the student aides knelt by the crater, his fingers hovering over the still-warm stone. "Instructor, the residual energy is chaotic, but undeniably potent. It feels like a high-circle Evocation spell, but… crude. Unrefined. Like an explosion in a potion factory rather than a crafted spell."
That observation, surprisingly, lent credibility to Su Yuan's story. A spell from a damaged, unstable scroll *would* be chaotic and unrefined.
Valerius stood in silence for a long moment, his gaze fixed on Su Yuan. The boy was gaunt, dressed in a sweat-soaked, threadbare robe, and looked like he was about to collapse. He was, by all accounts, the most pathetic student in the entire academy. The idea of him orchestrating this was, on its face, ludicrous. The alternative—that he got impossibly, suicidally lucky—was far more believable.
"You are telling me," Valerius said slowly, his voice resonating with authority, "that you, the 'Empty Vessel,' survived an attack by a pack of Shadow Hounds because you stumbled upon a lost, high-level magic scroll in a garbage pile, which you then activated by pure chance?"
"Yes, Instructor," Su Yuan whispered, lowering his head in a show of submission.
Valerius let out a long, weary sigh. "The Archons must have a twisted sense of humor." He turned to his aides. "Get the ward-masters to repair the damage. Conduct a full sweep of the dormitory grounds; I want to know how Shadow Hounds got past our perimeter wards. Take statements from the other students on this floor."
The aides nodded sharply and departed, leaving Su Yuan alone with the stern instructor.
"You will come with me to the Headmaster's office after your morning classes," Valerius stated. It wasn't a request. "You will repeat your story to him, down to the last detail. Do not think you are out of trouble, Su Yuan. Your recklessness endangered the entire dormitory. However…"
He paused, his sharp eyes softening by a fraction. "…you survived. Against all odds, you survived an encounter that would have killed a dozen more promising apprentices. Luck, no matter how absurd, is a form of power in itself. Do not squander it."
With that, Instructor Valerius turned and strode away, his robes sweeping silently behind him.
Su Yuan finally allowed his body to sag, leaning against the cool stone wall for support. He had done it. They had bought it, or at least, they had no other explanation that made sense. He was safe, for now. The wave of relief was so powerful it almost brought him to his knees.
He was alone. The adrenaline faded, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion and a profound sense of awe at the night's events. He had faced death and spat in its eye. He had taken the first, real step in this new world.
It was then that the System, which had been silent during the confrontation, chimed softly in his mind. The ethereal blue screen materialized, no longer flickering with instability, but solid and clear.
[System Binding Complete.]
[Congratulations on your survival. Full functionality is now unlocked.]
A wave of warmth spread through his very soul, a sensation of finality and completeness. The infinite ocean of mana within him felt more real, more intrinsically *his* than it had before.
[Reward for Quest 'Survive the Night' has been distributed.]
[Function Unlocked: Spatial Inventory]
[Description: An infinite extradimensional storage space tied to your soul. Access via mental command. Time within the inventory is static.]
[Function Unlocked: Gacha Log]
[Description: A record of all items received from the Infinite Gacha System.]
[Newbie Welcome Package reward has been finalized and integrated.]
[Special Trait Acquired: Infinite Mana Core (Passive)]
[Description: The Host's soul has been permanently reconstructed around the concept of 'Infinity.' Your mana capacity is now boundless, and your regeneration rate is effectively instantaneous. This trait is a fundamental aspect of your existence and is no longer a temporary daily item.]
Su Yuan's breath caught in his throat. *Permanent*. It wasn't a 24-hour boon. It wasn't a temporary buff. The newbie reward wasn't just a loan of infinite power; it was a fundamental rewrite of his very being. The name they had mocked him with, 'The Empty Vessel,' was now so cosmically ironic it was almost funny. He wasn't just holding an ocean; he *was* the ocean.
He opened the [Gacha Log] with a thought.
`[Gacha Log]`
`Day 1: [Item: Mana] -> [Reward finalized and converted to Passive Trait: Infinite Mana Core.]`
So that was it. The first day's incredible reward had been a test and a permanent upgrade, all in one. It was the foundation upon which everything else would be built.
He then focused on the [Inventory]. He pictured the wobbly stool in the corner of his room. *Store*. The stool vanished without a sound. He could feel its existence in a separate, silent space in his mind. *Retrieve*. The stool reappeared in its original spot with a soft thud. A smile touched his lips. The utility of such a thing was immense.
He was exploring the nuances of his new abilities when a new notification pinged, bright and crisp.
[A new day has begun. The midnight cycle has reset.]
[Now drawing your daily random item…]
Su Yuan's mind went still. This was it. His first *real* spin of the wheel. The power of Infinite Mana was his foundation, but this daily gacha would be the tool he used to build his future. What would it be? A legendary sword? A forgotten spellbook? The blood of a god? His imagination ran wild with the possibilities.
The screen flashed.
[Item successfully drawn.]
[Your item for today is:]
`[Item: A Handful of Common Sand]`
`[Quantity: ∞]`
`[Description: It's sand. Coarse, rough, and irritating. And it gets everywhere.]`
Su Yuan stared at the screen for a full ten seconds, his mind a complete blank.
Sand.
Not magical sand. Not soul-cleansing sand from a celestial beach. Just… common sand. The kind you'd find in a child's play pit or a desert.
After receiving a conceptually infinite amount of magical energy, a power that could make gods tremble, his second gift from the universe was an endless supply of dirt.
The sheer, unadulterated absurdity of it struck him so hard that he burst out laughing. It was a genuine, unforced laugh that echoed in his ruined room. The tension, the fear, the exhaustion—it all melted away in that single moment of cosmic whiplash.
Of course. This was the 'Infinite Gacha System.' It wasn't the 'Infinite Awesome Stuff System.' Probability was absolute. Luck was irrelevant. He was just as likely to get divine artifacts as he was to get infinite piles of garbage.
His laughter subsided, replaced by a thoughtful, calculating glint in his eye. He looked at his open palm. 'Void' the gamer had never been one for brute force alone. He had won his greatest victories through strategy, creativity, and exploiting game mechanics in ways the developers had never intended.
Infinite sand. Seemingly useless. But was it?
A normal person with a handful of sand could do nothing. A mage with a handful of sand could do very little.
But what about a mage with an *infinite* supply of sand?
He could summon a single grain, invisible to the naked eye. He could summon a trickle. He could summon a dune. He could summon a desert.
He could fill a locked room with sand in an instant, suffocating everyone inside. He could create a sudden sandstorm in the middle of a battle, blinding his enemies. Combined with his infinite mana, he could heat the sand, turning it into a spray of molten glass. He could use telekinesis, fueled by endless energy, to turn each grain into a microscopic bullet, creating a grinder of biblical proportions.
With infinite quantity, the most useless junk in the universe could become a weapon of unimaginable horror.
He held out his hand and focused his will. *Retrieve*.
A few golden-brown grains materialized on his palm, glinting in the morning light. Then a few more. A small, steady stream began to pour from a point of nothingness in the air above his hand, piling into a small mound. The texture was gritty, real.
He stopped the flow, then opened his inventory and stored the small pile. It worked.
A slow, dangerous smile—the same one from the night before—crept back onto his face. This was the true nature of his power. It was unpredictable. It was chaotic. It was utterly, breathtakingly absurd.
And it was magnificent.
He had survived the night. He had a permanent core of infinite mana. He had an endless supply of sand. And he had an appointment with the Headmaster.
Su Yuan looked out through his shattered doorway at the academy, now bustling with the start of a new day. They still saw him as the Empty Vessel, the trash apprentice who got lucky. They had no idea.
They were all living in a world of limits—limited mana, limited resources, limited potential.
He was not.
Let them underestimate him. Let them mock him. He would take their ridicule and their pity. He would take his infinite sand, his infinite spoons, his infinite pebbles, and one day, he would use them to build a throne so high that the entire world would have no choice but to look up.