The night shrouded the sanatorium, its inky darkness swallowing the lights along the road.
When Wan Tong entered another building, the surroundings brightened slightly.
She walked up to a room where only Wu Li was dozing against the wall. Seeing her, he quickly smiled and greeted her.
“Why are you still in here this late?” Wan Tong asked.
This was Cen Lingyu’s room, where his psychologist usually conducted therapy sessions.
“I don’t know. Brother Shen is inside too.”
“Huh?”
Wan Tong hesitated. “Can I go in?”
“I think it’s better to wait. You might interrupt the doctor.”
Wan Tong nodded in agreement. “Then let him know I went back first.”
“Got it.” Wu Li responded, secretly relieved.
Inside the room, the atmosphere was eerie. Cen Lingyu pressed his hands to his head, staring in disbelief at the screen on the wall.
“Impossible. I don’t remember any of this. I would never hurt my mother.”
“But you did.” Li Shen leaned against a nearby table, his figure half-hidden in the dim light.
“No, that wasn’t me,” Cen Lingyu said firmly.
“Before you woke up, did you hear any strange voices in your head?”
At those words, Cen Lingyu looked up at Li Shen, and a deep hatred flickered in his eyes.
“My mind was telling me… to kill you. And Tongtong.”
By now, he had accepted that his sister had come back to life, but he still wanted to kill her. It was a strange feeling, as if some monster was lurking inside him, whispering for him to act.
Li Shen’s words made him question whether his mind had been taken over by someone, whether some unknown force had implanted these murderous impulses.
But the psychologist couldn’t help him return to normal. The occasional flashes of killing intent made him restless.
“Sir, we can begin the test now,” a middle-aged man in a white uniform said, stepping behind Li Shen.
Li Shen nodded and looked at Cen Lingyu. “Come on. Let’s run a test.”
Cen Lingyu didn’t trust him, but after some thought, he restrained himself and followed the man to a silver operating table.
The equipment had only arrived that day. It could detect brainwaves and even observe whether neural connections had undergone any abnormalities.
This technology had been developed privately. Li Shen had invested in it on a whim, never expecting it to actually come in handy.
Meanwhile, Wan Tong had just left the building when the Shishi’s voice suddenly sounded in her mind.
[Tongtong, a Raider System has been detected. He… hasn’t left!]
“???” Wan Tong froze in shock.
[What’s going on?]
[Damon is still inside Cen Lingyu, but he has hidden himself. That’s why I couldn’t detect him before—I thought he was gone.]
[So now he’s… back? Inside my brother again?]
Wan Tong asked while rushing back into the building.
[Yes, Tongtong.]
“Wu Li, open the door!” Wan Tong ran toward him.
Wu Li was puzzled but blocked the entrance. “What happened?”
Before Wan Tong could reply, a muffled gunshot rang out from inside!
Without hesitation, Wu Li opened the door.
Inside, a middle-aged man in a white coat lay on the floor, motionless. Li Shen and Cen Lingyu were fighting, while an instrument beside them emitted a sharp beeping alarm.
“Wu Li, get her out of here!” Li Shen growled.
Cen Lingyu—no, Damon—caught sight of Wan Tong rushing in and curled his lips in mockery. He raised his gun toward her.
So, her system could indeed detect both him and the Raider System. He had hidden himself, but the moment he revealed himself, she noticed.
In that instant, Li Shen kicked Damon’s arm, sending the gun flying. It clattered to the floor as the two grappled.
“Li Shen, you suspect me, but don’t you also suspect your dear Tongtong?” Demon sneered viciously.
“I’ll tell you the truth. She’s not Cen Wantong. She’s just like me, an outsider. You were right all along. We both have systems. The world you live in, it’s just a game we created for fun…”
[Warning! Warning! The host is not allowed to reveal information about the system to the target! Warning—]
Ignoring the blaring alarm in his head, Damon took advantage of Li Shen’s distraction to throw him off and seize the gun. He aimed it at Li Shen’s chest—
“Wu Li!” Wan Tong screamed, watching Wu Li lunge toward Li Shen.
The scene was a shock to her. She shouted at the top of her lungs, trying to stop it. “No!”
At that moment, something inside her exploded outward, surging toward Demon.
Damon’s head throbbed with searing pain, his hand trembling. The bullet struck the ceiling instead, and he staggered backward.
“You’re… a Guide?” Damon stared at Wan Tong in disbelief.
A Guide? What was that?
Wan Tong had no time to process his words. She suddenly felt weak, as if all the strength had been drained from her. She could feel something changing inside her, starting from her brain, spreading through her body bit by bit.
She remembered that this world had always been normal, without any supernatural forces or strange powers. But why did she suddenly feel that her mental strength had surged to the extreme, so much so that it even carried an offensive power?
In the blink of an eye, Damon appeared in front of Wan Tong. The system in his mind blared incessantly:
[Host has violated protocol. Forced removal in progress. Host has violated protocol. Forced removal in progress…]
Even so, he stubbornly held himself up and leaned close to Wan Tong’s ear, whispering, “My name is not Damon. My name is… I will find you.”
The last sentence was squeezed out through gritted teeth, but Wan Tong heard it crystal clear. She had the distinct feeling that he knew a lot. If time could be rewound, she might have sat down and had a proper conversation with him.
But now, there was no chance. The Raider system had forcibly removed him.
Cen Lingyu’s body collapsed at Wan Tong’s feet. At that moment, Li Shen approached as well, a bloody wound on his arm still oozing.
[*Beep*…]
A sharp noise suddenly rang in Wan Tong’s mind, so piercing that she clutched her head in pain.
“Shishi? What’s wrong?” she called out.
Li Shen stopped in front of her, his rough palm gently cupping her ear as he bent down and asked in a hoarse voice, “Shishi… Who is that?”
Wan Tong froze. Had she just spoken out loud? Had he heard her?
She shook her head. “Why do you ask?”
[Corpse Collection System mission completed. System shutting down.]
[Shishi!]
Wan Tong’s eyes widened in shock. Was she hallucinating? The system was shutting down?
But Shishi never responded again. It was as if it had suddenly vanished.
She looked down at her own body, still intact. She hadn’t disappeared. Nothing had changed.
Li Shen withdrew his hand, his voice growing distant.
“Tongtong, will you leave?”
Wan Tong stood there, staring into his deep, silent eyes, unsure how to answer.
She had no clue where she was supposed to go.
The stabbing pain in her head intensified, and more and more voices flooded her ears. She pressed her hands over them, but it was useless. The overwhelming noise came from all directions.
Her body swayed before she collapsed, only to be caught by Li Shen.
Cen Lingyu was taken away, while Wu Li helped up the middle-aged man in white.
“Brother Shen, what do we do now?” Wu Li glanced at the unconscious Wan Tong in Li Shen’s arms, his expression complex. He didn’t understand what was happening, but he knew that Li Shen’s mood couldn’t be good.
Li Shen’s gaze shifted from Wan Tong’s pale face to the equipment nearby. In the end, he silently turned and walked out.
He didn’t need any tests to know the result. He had heard her voice inside his mind, like she had unintentionally invaded his brain and left traces of her presence.
Something in Li Shen’s mind was awakening.
In the most secluded building of the sanatorium, silence reigned. Not even the chirping of insects could be heard.
In a dimly lit room, two figures lay entwined on the bed.
Li Shen’s gaze was deep, cold sweat beading on his forehead as pain throbbed through his head.
Wan Tong had been asleep for a full day. A strange energy field surrounded her, as if her mind and consciousness blanketed the area around her, including him.
He saw many unfamiliar yet eerily familiar images, scenes that seemed to be her memories. Or perhaps, memories they had once shared…
He was Shen Bu. He was Gu Chenyue. He was Yu Cheng. He was Huo Yiming… He was also Li Shen.
But deep within his mind, another name was engraved.
Wan Tong woke up amidst excruciating pain, instinctively calling out for Shishi. But her mind remained silent.
It had said its mission was over.
Then what about her?
“Li Shen, my head hurts… It’s so noisy…” she murmured.
She vaguely remembered that she had something to do, but she couldn’t recall what it was.
It felt absurd, but she was sure, she had awakened some kind of psychic ability in this world.
She could clearly hear the sounds of insects a thousand meters away, the murmur of voices… The overwhelming noise made her head throb.
Li Shen supported her, letting her sit on his lap. “Don’t listen. Quiet your mind.”
His deep voice made her dazed for a moment. She looked up at his face, just inches away.
He pulled her into a tight embrace, as if enduring a pain of his own.
Wan Tong instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to comfort him. Invisible psychic threads drifted from her, surrounding Li Shen.
But in the next instant, those threads collided with an impenetrable barrier.
She cried out in pain and slumped against him, her breathing growing weaker.
Li Shen’s hand landed on her back, patting it lightly.
Wan Tong suddenly felt like something about him was different.
The calm and restraint he exuded, it felt as if they came from someone else.
Under his imposing presence, a deep-seated submission rose from within her.
She had never experienced anything like it before.
Slowly, she lifted her head.
The man’s half-lowered gaze was as dark as a cold abyss. His face, always expressionless, seemed carved from ice.
She felt his rough fingertips brushing against the back of her neck, just like always—gently, teasingly.
But the next moment, she heard a soft *click*.
A gun pressed against her throbbing temple.
He leaned down, exuding the natural dominance of a king, and spoke in a low voice, “Girl, your mission is complete.”
For some reason, upon hearing those words, Wan Tong—who had been tense ever since Shishi vanished—suddenly felt a wave of relief.
She looked at him, her lips slowly curling into a faint smile, as if she had finally been freed.
*Bang.* The gunshot rang out.
Wan Tong’s world plunged into eternal night.
In the real world, a space station in the Dale Galaxy.
A piercing alarm echoed through the vast laboratory, and soon, everyone gathered around a transparent hibernation capsule.
The capsule was connected to countless tubes and circuits, almost fused with the entire lab. Inside, bathed in a faint blue glow, lay a tall and imposing man.
General Su Ming of the Kroll Empire, an SSS-rankedDark Sentinel.
In the Kroll Empire, a small number of people awaken special abilities after the age of sixteen, becoming either Sentinels or Guides. These individuals are sent to specialized academies for training and classified into four standard ranks: A, B, C, D; as well as three elite ranks: S, SS, and SSS.
Sentinels possess enhanced senses and physical abilities, making them formidable warriors and a critical military force.
Guides, on the other hand, have strong mental powers. They pair with Sentinels, providing mental stabilization and battlefield support. The higher the compatibility between a Sentinel and a Guide, the stronger their synergy.
However, because Sentinels experience heightened perception, their minds are particularly fragile. Dark Sentinels, distinguished by their extreme self-control, are even more volatile. If they ever lose control, the resulting outburst could be catastrophic.
Su Ming was an extremely rare SSS-ranked Dark Sentinel. Five years ago, after returning victorious from battle, he failed to receive timely mental stabilization and suffered a violent breakdown. In the end, he became trapped within his own sensory world, unable to escape. His body remained intact, but his consciousness was lost in a mental void.
The empire mourned the loss of a legendary general. At the same time, they were deeply concerned. Enemy forces had begun harassing the interstellar borders, and without their cornerstone of leadership, the military was in disarray. The defensive line was on the verge of collapse. If Su Ming did not awaken soon, the Empire would face an era of turmoil.
To save him, the Blair Laboratory developed an awakening system, a neural interface designed to link with Su Ming’s mind. The system sought out the Guide with the highest compatibility and sent them into his consciousness in an attempt to pull him back from the void.
But the system was hacked.
The chosen Guide was only sixteen, a prodigy who had awakened an unprecedented SSS-level mental power upon reaching adulthood. However, she was too young and had only received rudimentary training in controlling her abilities. Lacking experience, she was consumed by the system.
Fortunately, Blair had implemented a self-rescue program, the Corpse Collecting System. It locked onto the Guide’s soul and pulled her back into the awakening system for a second attempt.
Inside the system, the young Guide struggled through countless trials but ultimately succeeded in completing her mission.
“Professor! The data is stabilizing!”
Someone shouted.
Inside the hibernation capsule, the man’s eyelids trembled. Then, slowly, his eyes opened.
“General Su! You’re finally awake!”
Deputy Officer An Xi’s eyes were red with emotion, his normally composed face filled with joy.
The transparent layer of the capsule slid open, releasing a billow of white mist. Su Ming sat up slowly.
His sharp gaze swept across the room, quickly recognizing one of the figures.
“Professor Blair.”
His voice was hoarse from years of silence.
The professor stepped forward, unable to conceal his excitement. “General, it’s me.”
The others, despite their own excitement, remained silent, waiting for Su Ming’s reaction.
He pressed a hand to his head, his complexion still pale.
An Xi turned to the attendants. “Call for a Guide, now.”
But even before the Guide arrived, Su Ming felt a searing pain in his mind, as too many foreign memories were tearing through his consciousness.
“General, you may experience flashes of the awakening process. The Guide can assist in stabilizing your mind,” Professor Blair explained.
No one dared approach him. The power of a Dark Sentinel was overwhelming. Even now, the reinforced bed he had just pushed himself up from bore the deep imprint of his hand.
“General, the Guides are here.”
Several Guides approached the capsule, their gentle mental threads reaching toward Su Ming.
The room was filled with noise, but Su Ming ignored them all. Instead, he stood up and walked out.
The crowd instinctively parted to let him pass.
An Xi followed cautiously. “General, what’s wrong?”
Su Ming moved as though drawn by an invisible force. Exiting the main hall, he pushed open another door.
The moment the sealed chamber door slid open, a pained whimper echoed from within.
The room was brightly lit, but bare, except for a single metal examination table.
Lying on it was a frail figure, the source of the anguished cries.
This chamber was constructed from special materials, designed to isolate external sounds and prevent mental outbursts from harming others.
But now, with the door open, An Xi’s head immediately throbbed in pain. The uncontrolled mental energy was suffocating, surging without rhythm or restraint. He turned to Su Ming, his face grim.
“General, she’s the Guide who entered your awakening system. Her consciousness hasn’t fully returned, and her mental power is still unstable. She’s an SSS-ranked…”
Su Ming’s eyes darkened.
He had never heard of a Guide with such a high ranking. Even the strongest military Guides had only ever reached S-rank. Yet this girl, barely an adult, had awakened at the highest rank?
Noticing his surprise, An Xi added, “General, have you forgotten? You brought her back from the battlefield years ago. Her parents were both high-ranking, but… they perished in the war.”
Su Ming’s pupils contracted.
His lips parted, and a name slipped out, one he knew all too well.
“Wan… Tong?”
Five years ago, when his consciousness fell into darkness, she was only eleven.
Now, five years later, that child had entered his mind, journeyed through fourteen worlds, and finally awakened him.