Ten miles outside Emeraldstone Old Town, a small shrine sat on a green hillside.

  Daoist Rowan sprinted back through the night, chest heaving, nerves still fried.

  “Goddamn it… I was only trying to snag a female ghost,” he panted, wiping sweat from his brow. “I didn’t know there was a ghost infant hidden in there. If I’d run into that thing earlier, I’d be dead.”

  He paced in circles, still shaking.

  “And those two? No way they made it out. A ghost infant’s resentment is insane—once it’s born, it kills. They were never beating it.”

  That thought finally let him breathe again.

  Rowan stretched, ready to crawl into bed, sleep it off, and figure out his next move later.

  He’d barely laid down when—

  BOOM!

  A massive crash rocked the shrine.

  Rowan shot up. “Who the hell—?!”

  He rushed outside and froze.

  The redwood front doors were gone—collapsed on the ground like someone had kicked them off the hinges.

  Two figures stepped over the broken panels and walked in.

  Rowan’s eyes went wide.

  “You—! You’re alive?!”

  Yep.

  Ethan Parker—and Nora Paige.

  Ethan smiled. “Was I supposed to die?”

  Rowan’s brain scrambled for an excuse. His first instinct was to assume the most comfortable thing.

  “You ran?” he snapped. “You’re Unit 749—so you just abandoned the people in that town?!”

  Nora stepped forward, voice tight but clear. “The ghost infant is dead. The captain killed it. We’re not like you—letting a spirit slaughter people because it benefits you.”

  Rowan stumbled back. “No… bullshit. You can’t beat a ghost infant!”

  Ethan’s blood lifted and began to orbit him like a living halo as he walked closer, one slow step at a time.

  “Whether you believe it doesn’t matter,” Ethan said calmly. “What matters is I’m pissed.”

  Rowan’s legs went weak. He dropped to his knees.

  “Boss—please! I screwed up! I’ll go back to 749 and take judgment! The deaths weren’t my doing—I just… I just didn’t stop it!”

  Ethan tilted his head, almost amused.

  “You really think I came all the way out here to arrest you?”

  Rowan went still. “Y-you… you’re going to kill me?”

  His heart stuttered.

  So this was the kind of investigator he’d run into—someone crazy enough to track him down in the middle of the night just to cash in that promise:

  Cross the line, you die.

  Rowan forced himself up, face turning hard.

  “Out there… maybe I’m not your match,” he said coldly. “But in my shrine? You’re not taking me that easily.”

  He threw his hands out.

  “Spirit-Seal Furnace—OPEN!”

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  BANG!

  The shrine behind him detonated, and nine evil spirits tore out into the night, shrieking.

  Rowan pointed like a commander.

  “Kill him!”

  Ethan’s eyes lit up. “Oh? Didn’t expect a bonus.”

  The spirits rushed him.

  The fastest one slammed into a blood-red barrier less than half a meter from Ethan—like it hit an invisible wall.

  The other eight attacked from different angles—

  and got stopped just as cleanly, the blood barrier shifting and catching everything with zero effort.

  Automatic defense.

  Instant payoff.

  Ethan stood in the center of the courtyard, left hand in his pocket, right hand lazily picking at his ear.

  “Can you hit harder?” he yawned. “I’m about to fall asleep.”

  Rowan’s face twisted. “Die!”

  He poured more power into the talismans inside the spirits, driving them into a frenzy. They attacked like rabid animals, suicidal and relentless.

  Ethan raised both hands.

  Blood streamed down his arms, braided together, and hardened—

  Two long blades formed in his grip.

  Phantom Drake Blade, Form Two — Sea-Coiled Drake.

  Ethan went to work.

  Twin blades flashing like red lightning, he carved through the courtyard like a storm. Blade-force tore the air, leaving crisscrossed scars in the ground and gouges in the walls.

  The old tree in the yard didn’t survive it—its trunk split, and it crashed down with a heavy crack.

  [Blood Strength permanently +1%]

  [Blood Strength permanently +2%]

  …

  Nine spirits died.

  Eight low-grade, one high-grade—

  enough to push Ethan’s Blood Strength up by a full ten percent in one sweep.

  Rowan stared, blank with horror.

  That was his collection. Months of work.

  Gone in seconds.

  “Wait—Unit 749 doesn’t have the right to execute humans!” Rowan blurted, voice cracking. “You’re breaking the rules—you can’t touch me!”

  “Don’t come closer!” he begged. “If you want something—money, resources—we can talk! We can negotiate!”

  Ethan’s answer was flat.

  “No interest.”

  One swing.

  Rowan’s head hit the ground.

  No reward prompt. Of course not—Rowan wasn’t a demon.

  Ethan exhaled like he’d done a chore. “Done. Back to 749.”

  As they left, Nora glanced at him, hesitant.

  “Captain… can I ask something?” she said softly. “You’re always bleeding—doesn’t it hurt?”

  “It doesn’t,” Ethan said. “I heal fast.”

  “Oh.” Nora quietly put away the pill she’d been about to offer him.

  …

  On the way back, Ethan triggered another Divine Gift.

  Three cards appeared:

  Immediately fill 10 spiritual apertures

  Enhance Blood Sovereign: effective range +4 meters

  Blood production speed +5%

  Ethan tapped Card 2 without hesitation.

  The value was ridiculous.

  Before, his blood constructs could only operate about two meters away. That meant his weapons, barriers, and control radius were cramped—no real area control.

  Add four meters and the radius became six.

  A six-meter kill zone centered on Ethan.

  That wasn’t a buff.

  That was a new tier.

  …

  Unit 749. Conference room.

  The Deputy Director hadn’t arrived for morning briefing yet, so the mentors were talking freely.

  “Ethan’s back,” Dr. Renee Hart said. She’d been paying attention to him the whole time. “Did you read the report?”

  “Why would we read a probationary investigator report?”

  “Yeah, Renee, stop obsessing. Let the kid grow first.”

  Renee shook her head. “You don’t get it. He went to investigate a haunted house… and ran into a Rank-Two ghost infant.”

  The room snapped to her.

  “What?”

  “Ghost infant? You’re kidding.”

  “That thing is nasty.”

  “At least he got out,” someone said grimly. “We can’t afford to lose a talent like him.”

  Renee’s expression didn’t change.

  “He didn’t run,” she said. “He killed it.”

  Silence.

  A long beat.

  Then—

  “A ghost infant is DISASTER-class,” someone said slowly. “And it was a whole realm above him. He killed it?”

  “Slaughter Domain is strong, but—this is insane.”

  “And he ran into rogue psionics on the way and killed them too,” someone added. “Basically… nobody he met walked away.”

  Someone whistled. “That kid’s brutal.”

  Caleb Shaw adjusted his glasses. “No issue. Unit 749 investigators have authority to act against psionics who obstruct an investigation. In urgent conditions, lethal force is permitted.”

  He tapped the report. “The report also states the priest controlled multiple spirits and nearly boxed Ethan in. He barely got out alive.”

  A mentor frowned. “That… sounds a little convenient.”

  …

  Ethan returned to headquarters.

  [Teleport Countdown: 21 hours]

  About a day until his first survival mission triggered.

  He didn’t plan to go out again. He’d cram Reverse World intel, tighten his fundamentals, and make sure he didn’t screw up when the timer hit zero.

  After digging through the app’s archives, his understanding deepened.

  Every awakened had a rating called Ladder Points.

  Starting value: 1000.

  Refuse a Reverse World mission? Points drop. Fail a mission? Points drop.

  If Ladder Points hit zero…

  You lose the god’s favor. Your Sequence Ability disappears permanently.

  Rookies treated the Reverse World like a nightmare—avoiding it.

  The strong treated it like opportunity—chasing it.

  That’s where the gap is born.

  If you went often—and survived—your breakthrough speed was multiples of normal cultivation.

  Reverse World layers were matched by Ladder Points.

  Seven layers existed, shallow to deep:

  Easy Layer: 1–1000

  Normal Layer: 1000–2000

  Hard Layer: 2000–3000

  …and upward.

  Some high-realm psionics tried to sandbag their rating, but high realms got almost no growth in low layers. It turned into wasted effort.

  Ethan narrowed his eyes.

  “My first entry should be Easy Layer. Everyone matched with me should be under 1000—rookies.”

  So what’s there to be scared of?

  He smirked. “Then we go in and do what we do.”

  He checked the time.

  “Still early. I’ll hit the training floor and get some reps in.”

  Ethan didn’t expect that—

  The moment he got there, he’d walk straight into a full-on girls’ blowup drama.