Chapter 1: The System Blown In by the Wind

The wind howled like a madman's rambling, swirling and battering on the rooftop, tearing at Qin Feng's clothes with a sound like a flag in despair.

He stood at the edge, the rusted railing cold and digging into his thighs. Below him lay the city's false nocturnal splendor—traffic woven into ribbons of light, neon flickering, outlining the cold, distant silhouettes of skyscrapers. But none of it mattered to him anymore.

A few hours earlier, that café they used to frequent, with its warm yellow lights and cheap coffee aroma.

Lin Wei, the girl he had loved for three years and thought he would spend his life with, sat across from him. But her eyes were no longer soft; instead, they held a detachment he had never seen before, and a near-cruel calm.

"Qin Feng, let's break up."

Her voice was quiet, yet it scraped like a dull saw, back and forth across his chest.

He still remembered his ridiculous reaction then—the smile he forced, uglier than crying: "Weiwei… don't joke around. Is it because I've been busy looking for a job and ignoring you? I…"

"He's not joking." A lazy, drawling voice cut in.

Qin Feng looked up and saw a well-dressed young man, his wrist adorned with a dazzlingly expensive watch, walking naturally to Lin Wei's side and slipping an arm around her shoulders. Lin Wei didn't pull away—instead, she leaned into him.

It was Zhao Kun. The school's infamous rich second-generation.

"Brother Kun… you two…" Qin Feng's throat felt sandpapered, raw and aching.

Zhao Kun smiled, his expression brimming with unmasked superiority and pity: "Qin Feng, right? Face reality. You can't give Weiwei what she wants. See this bag?" He pointed to the brand-new, logo-heavy luxury handbag beside Lin Wei's seat. "How long would you have to work two jobs to afford just the clasp?"

Lin Wei lowered her eyelids, long lashes casting a small shadow. Her voice remained flat: "Qin Feng, you're a good person, and you've been good to me. But we're not compatible. Kun can give me a stable life, a future I can see. You… you don't even have a decent job yet."

"So… love can be priced like a commodity?" Qin Feng heard his own voice trembling.

Zhao Kun snorted, as if hearing the biggest joke in the world: "Love? Don't be so naive. Life is a transaction. Here—this card has twenty thousand yuan. Consider it compensation for your three years of 'caring' for Weiwei." He casually tossed a thin bank card onto the table; it slid to Qin Feng's feet. "Take it, go somewhere and sober up. Don't bother Weiwei again."

The cold edge of the bank card reflected the overhead light like a tiny knife, stabbing into Qin Feng's eyes.

He shot to his feet, the chair legs screeching against the floor. He wanted to punch, to smash those two revolting faces, to overturn everything before him! But the last shred of strength, along with his pitiful dignity, seemed drained away. The curious, probing, perhaps even entertained glances of the surrounding patrons pricked his back like countless fine needles.

In the end, he did nothing. He simply stared at Lin Wei, at the girl who once smiled sweetly in his arms—now a cold, gilded statue.

Lin Wei avoided his gaze and whispered to Zhao Kun: "Let's go."

They walked away, entwined, their silhouettes paired.

Qin Feng stood there for a long time. Then he reached out—not for the card, but for the cup of coffee Lin Wei had left half-drunk. The brown liquid swayed slightly, reflecting his twisted, pale face.

He tilted his head back and swallowed the icy dregs in one gulp. Bitter—unbearably bitter—it spread from his tongue to his heart, freezing every drop of blood.

…

Now, he stood here. The wind on the rooftop was fiercer, wilder, carrying the city's nocturnal dust and the scent of an ending.

Let it end.

He was so tired.

His parents had died early; he was utterly alone. He worked his way through school, excelled academically, believing he could carve out a future with his own hands, give Lin Wei a home. What was the result? Reality slapped him with the loudest possible blow.

"What a fucking world," he muttered to the shimmering, insubstantial sea of light below. His voice was torn apart by the gale, scattered into nothing.

He closed his eyes, leaned forward slightly, feeling the fatal pull of gravity.

Just then—

【Ding—!】

A clear, genderless, emotionless electronic voice exploded without warning deep within his mind.

【Detecting host's intense survival desire and extreme environmental stimulus—binding conditions met…】

【Quan Neng System activating… 10%… 50%… 100%!】

【Activation successful! Host bound: Qin Feng!】

Qin Feng snapped his eyes open, scanning the surroundings in disbelief. Only wind remained. Hallucination? A dying man's last flicker?

【Hello, Host. The Quan Neng System serves you. This system is designed to assist you in reaching life's pinnacle, encompassing eight core functions to help you seize fate and overturn the world.】

As the electronic voice spoke, a translucent blue holographic screen, sleek and futuristic, abruptly floated in the air before him. Its layout was minimalist yet technologically refined, with eight neatly arranged, icon-differentiated squares at the center, each labeled below with a function name:

【Shenji Blessing】 (New Player Bonus Ready!)

【Fixed Point Check-in】 (Daily Rewards, Accumulate Little by Little!)

【Perfect Lottery】 (Where Miracles Happen!)

【Super Technology】 (Knowledge Is Power!)

【Wealth Prediction】 (See the Future First!)

【Invincible Exchange】 (Equal Value? No—Superior Exchange!)

【Malicious Curse】 (Retaliate in Kind!)

【Self-Improvement】 (Transcend the Mundane!)

Qin Feng froze completely, his forward-leaning body instinctively pulling back as he gripped the rusted railing. His heart hammered like a drum in his chest; blood surged to his head, bringing waves of dizziness.

This wasn't a hallucination!

He blinked hard—the screen remained steady, its icons glowing faintly, crystal clear.

"System…?" he ventured silently in his mind.

【Here, Host.】 The electronic voice responded instantly.

"This… all of this is real? What can you do?"

【System functions are for the Host to explore. Detecting Host in dire life circumstances—granting New Player Gift Package. Open immediately?】

A New Player Gift Package?

Qin Feng took a deep breath. Cold air flooded his lungs, strangely calming the turmoil within. He stared at the dizzying height below, then at the dreamlike screen before him.

Life, it seemed, had veered onto a completely unknown, insane path the moment he chose to end it.

"Open!" he silently commanded, voice trembling with desperate resolve.

【Opening New Player Gift Package…】

【Congratulations, Host! You have received:】

【Shenji Blessing·Initial Fortune】 activated: Within 24 hours, you will receive a legal and compliant fortune, amount randomized (minimum: 1 million RMB).

【CASH REWARD: 10,000 RMB】 (Automatically deposited into the Host's linked bank account; source is legitimate, use with confidence.)

【SKILL BOOK: Combat Mastery (Beginner)】 Learn immediately?

The screen scrolled with information; Qin Feng felt his old phone vibrate lightly in his pant pocket. He fumbled it out in haste—the screen lit up, revealing a text message from the bank's customer service number:

"Your account ending in 7819 received a deposit of RMB 10,000.00 on May 17 at 21:43. Current balance: RMB 10,125.80. 【XX Bank】"

Really!

There really was ten thousand yuan in the account! And there was also a blessing promising at least one million yuan within twenty-four hours!

Qin Feng gripped the phone tightly, his knuckles whitening from the pressure. The cold emptiness in his chest was replaced by a searing flame—hope, and… revenge.

He looked up again, toward the city. His gaze was no longer Hollow, but sharp as a newly drawn Blade.

Zhao Kun? Lin Wei?

A cold, icy curve curled slowly at the corner of his mouth.

The game has only just begun.

The wind still howled, but now it sounded like a battle horn played just for him.

…

The next day, morning.

Qin Feng walked into the most upscale mall near his school, carrying the bank card with over ten thousand yuan. He headed straight for the Armani boutique.

The sales clerk glanced at his faded jeans and old T-shirt, a flicker of subtle disdain crossing her eyes—but professional training kept her manners polite.

Qin Feng paid no mind. Relying on the subtle bodily awareness granted by the system's implanted "Combat Mastery (Beginner)," as if it were innate, he selected a well-tailored dark gray suit, a white shirt, and a pair of high-quality leather shoes. As he entered the fitting room, he silently activated the virtual skill book on the screen—a warm current surged through his limbs and torso; his muscles suddenly remembered countless combat techniques, and his entire demeanor sharpened.

When he stepped out dressed, the same clerk's eyes brightened noticeably. The suit perfectly accentuated his upright frame (perhaps subtly altered by the skill). Though his face still bore youthfulness, his eyes now held a calm, quiet confidence—unrecognizable from before.

"Sir, this suit fits you perfectly!" the clerk's tone grew genuinely sincere.

Qin Feng stared at his reflection—strange, yet familiar. He swiped his card. Nearly ten thousand yuan spent, yet his heartbeat remained steady and strong.

Carrying his old clothes in a bag, he headed toward the nearby electronics store to replace his sluggish old phone.

Just as he reached the mall's atrium, a voice sent a chill through his blood.

"Oh? Isn't this Qin Feng?"

He turned. Lin Wei was affectionately linked with Zhao Kun's arm, stepping out from a nearby luxury store. Lin Wei held a new shopping bag emblazoned with a giant logo, her face glowing with satisfaction. Zhao Kun was dressed head-to-toe in designer brands, chin tilted up, surveying Qin Feng with his usual condescending gaze.

Lin Wei's eyes fell on Qin Feng's old clothes bag and his clearly expensive new suit. First surprise flickered across her face—then dissolved into thick mockery: "Qin Feng, are you… trying to put on airs? Borrowed money to buy clothes? Why bother? You know we're over."

Zhao Kun snorted, tightening his grip on Lin Wei's waist: "Hey, Weiwei, don't be so harsh. Maybe he found some 'great job'—like high-end sales? The kind that serves rich old ladies?" His words dripped with malicious intent.

Occasional passersby cast curious glances.

Yesterday, Qin Feng might have raged, felt humiliated, been utterly ashamed.

But now, he simply looked at them calmly—his eyes seeing nothing but two clumsy clowns.

Just then.

"Ding—"

His old phone emitted a crisp text alert, startlingly clear in the spacious atrium.

He pulled it out, scrolling open the message slowly.

On the screen, a message from the bank's customer service number—brief, powerful:

"Your account ending in 7819 received a deposit of RMB 100,000,000.00 on May 18 at 11:08. Current balance: RMB 100,010,125.80. 【XX Bank】"

One followed by eight zeros.

One hundred million.

Qin Feng stared at the message. His face showed no expression. Then, slowly, he raised his phone and turned the screen toward Zhao Kun and Lin Wei.

He said nothing.

But Zhao Kun's smug, mocking grin froze instantly. His eyes bulged, fixed on the string of digits as if trying to swallow them whole, his cheek muscles twitching uncontrollably.

Lin Wei saw it too.

Her mockery and superiority shattered—replaced by utter shock, confusion, and a spreading, disbelief-fueled panic. Her lips parted slightly; her grip on Zhao Kun's arm loosened, her fingers trembling. The new shopping bag slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a sharp "thud."

The entire world seemed to freeze and fall silent around them.

Qin Feng tucked his phone away, as if he'd merely seen an irrelevant spam message. His gaze passed calmly over Zhao Kun's ashen face, finally settling on Lin Wei—pale as paper, eyes Hollow.

The cold curve at his lips lifted slightly.

Then, without pause, he turned and walked away.

His steps were steady. His silhouette, under the mall's bright lights, stretched long and heavy with unrelenting pressure.

Behind him, two men and women, shattered by a single number, stood frozen—like two absurd clay statues.