Higo Ren had reached a point where the world no longer surprised him.
Every day followed the same dull rhythm. Morning alarms, crowded streets, indifferent faces, and endless hours spent chasing things he did not truly desire. Life moved forward mechanically, as if he were a cog trapped inside a massive, uncaring machine.
He was not poor.He was not suffering.Yet something inside him felt painfully empty.
Is this really living… or am I just existing?
That question haunted him more than anything else.
Ever since he was young, Higo Ren had been fascinated by martial arts, ancient philosophies, and stories of people who defied fate through sheer will. Cultivation novels, legends of immortals, forgotten sects, and hidden worlds—those stories made his blood stir in ways reality never could.
In those worlds, effort had meaning.Strength was earned.And destiny could be challenged.
Reality, however, was mercilessly mundane.
That night, unable to endure the suffocating silence of his apartment, Higo Ren put on his coat and stepped outside. The city was quiet, rain falling lightly and blurring the neon lights into faint streaks of color. He walked without purpose, letting his feet guide him wherever they wished.
Time passed unnoticed.
Eventually, he found himself in an unfamiliar part of the city—an old district filled with narrow streets and aging buildings. As he turned into a dimly lit alley, something felt… off.
At the very end of the alley stood a building that should not have been there.
A library.
Its exterior was worn and neglected, the wooden sign cracked and unreadable. Dust coated the windows so thickly that nothing inside could be seen. Yet despite its condition, the building exuded a strange sense of calm, as if it had been patiently waiting.
I've walked this area dozens of times… When did this place appear?
Hesitation flickered through his mind, but curiosity quickly smothered it. He pushed the door open.
The hinges groaned softly.
Inside, the air was stale, heavy with the scent of rot and old paper. Shelves had collapsed under their own weight, books scattered across the floor like fallen leaves. Many crumbled the moment he touched them, their pages turning to dust between his fingers.
This library had long been forgotten.
Higo Ren moved deeper inside, his footsteps echoing unnaturally in the silence. Despite the decay, he felt an odd sense of familiarity, as if he belonged here.
Then he saw it.
At the center of the library stood a stone table, untouched by ruin. Resting upon it was a single book.
Perfectly intact.
No title.No author.No decoration.
Yet his heart began to pound the moment his eyes fell upon it.
Why… does it feel like it's calling me?
He approached slowly, almost reverently, and picked it up. The book was warm, as if alive. As he opened it, words flowed across the pages—describing another world.
A brutal world governed by cultivation, spiritual energy, and absolute strength.
A world where the weak were trampled without mercy, and only those who seized power could survive.
The more he read, the faster his heart raced.
This isn't fiction…It feels real.
Time lost all meaning. Page after page, the outside world faded away. His breathing grew shallow as he reached the final page.
It was black.
Not inked. Not painted.
Pure blackness—deep, endless, untouched by time.
The moment his fingers brushed against the page, agony erupted in his mind.
His thoughts shattered.
A violent pressure crushed his consciousness as if something were forcing its way into his soul. The library spun violently, and an unbearable ringing filled his ears.
So this is it…?
Pain swallowed everything.
Higo Ren died without understanding what he had awakened.
Darkness lingered.
Then—
Voices.
Cold air.
A body that was not his own.
When Higo Ren opened his eyes again, his old world was already gone.