1: intelligence system

To all the Liu Yifeis and Daniel Wus out there,

Brain Storage Area.

Agonizing pain.

It felt as if he had been crushed and then barely glued back together; every inch of his bones let out an overburdened groan. His throat was clogged with the taste of rust and ash, and with every breath, his lungs pulled with the pain of a broken bellows.

Scorching heat, boundless scorching heat... followed by a cold suffocation.

Suddenly, Qin Feng snapped his eyes open.

Darkness. Blurry spots of light flickered in his field of vision, and it took several breaths before he could barely focus.

A low roof, blackened rafters, and spiderwebs forming arrays in the corners. Beneath him was a hard, bone-chafing wooden plank bed, the straw padding emitting a musty smell. The air was thick with the pungent scent of low-quality wound medicine, mixed with the smell of years of accumulated sweat and dust.

This wasn't the scene of a fire.

His last memory was of that tottering residential building—the sixth floor, surging black smoke, a terrifyingly hot doorknob, and that little girl curled in the corner, so scared she didn't even know how to cry anymore. He had buckled his breathing mask onto her face, wrapped her tightly in a fire blanket, and charged back the way he came with her in his arms... Then, there was the earth-shattering sound of collapse, the weight of falling rebar and concrete, and the flames that instantly swallowed everything.

He should be dead.

To save that little girl, he had been buried in a sea of fire.

Then now... A sharp sting exploded from his chest and abdomen, causing him to curl up uncontrollably and cough violently, a metallic sweetness rising in his mouth. At the same time, chaotic memory fragments, like a flood breaking through a dam, forced their way into his mind.

Qin Feng, sixteen years old, a small odd-job worker in Star South City. His hometown was in the countryside, where his father farmed a few acres of poor land. At the age of twelve, he left home with his Second Uncle to make a living in this prosperous yet cold Star South City. A few days ago, while moving goods at the docks, he had dizzily and accidentally bumped into a man wearing a brocade robe with a long saber at his waist... The man merely frowned and gave a casual wave, and a massive force sent him flying, slamming him heavily into a pile of cargo.

Just one strike.

Then came the endless agony. He was dragged back by his Second Uncle and had been lying in this dilapidated room, growing weaker by the day until... until now.

"Cough... cough cough..." Qin Feng propped himself up, wanting to sit, but the movement pulled at the wounds all over his body, and cold sweat instantly soaked his thin inner garment. He leaned against the cold earthen wall, gasping for breath, and used the faint daylight filtering through the worn window frame to survey this destitute room.

Aside from a plank bed and a broken wooden chest with a missing leg propped up by stones, there was almost nothing else.

A bitter taste spread through his mouth.

Transmigration? Soul possession?

Or was there a mistake when reporting to the Underworld?

He pinched his thigh hard, and a clear sensation of pain came through. It wasn't a dream.

The memories of his past life—the fire department training, the sound of the alarm, the cries for help in the fire, the faces of his comrades, and finally that all-consuming fire—were as clear as yesterday. Meanwhile, the memories of this life, belonging to that sixteen-year-old youth Qin Feng, were of running on the ridges between fields, the reluctance of leaving home, the endless goods at the docks, the silent but caring back of his Second Uncle, and... the terror and despair, like a mountain pressing down, brought by that casual wave of the Martial Artist's hand.

"A Martial Artist... world?" he whispered, his voice hoarse and dry. Just because of an unintentional collision, a young life was almost—no, had already been—taken away. What kind of disregard for human life was this, what kind of cruel world?

Just then, an emotionless electronic voice, sounding like metal scraping, rang out deep within his mind:

[Compatible Soul detected, consciousness binding in progress...]

[daily intelligence system loading complete.]

[Congratulations, Host Qin Feng.]

Qin Feng's body stiffened suddenly, his pupils contracting. A hallucination? An auditory hallucination caused by his severe injuries?

[Given the Host's Soul strength and past behavior judgment, the System is activated.] The cold voice continued.

A Golden Finger?

Qin Feng was stunned, and then an indescribable surge of complex emotions welled up in his heart. So it was the standard equipment for transmigrators. But did this come... as compensation because he sacrificed himself for others in his last life and died too unjustly? He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"System?" he tried to respond in his mind.

His vision suddenly brightened as a translucent interface, glowing with a faint blue light, unfolded out of thin air and hovered before him.

The interface was simple, with several options in the center: [Character Interface], [System Intelligence], [System Space].

His gaze fell on the [Character Interface], and with a thought...

The interface switched.

[Name: Qin Feng]

[Rank: Mortal]

[Status: Internal Injury (Level 2) (Caused by the impact of fierce Internal Energy on the organs, resulting in blood stasis and damaged Meridians)]

[External Injury (Level 1) (Multiple soft tissue contusions, subcutaneous bruising)]

"He really struck hard..." Qin Feng murmured those words, the dull pain in his chest and abdomen seeming to become clearer. Level 2 internal injury, level 1 external injury. That Martial Artist probably hadn't even used ten percent of his strength, right? It was like casually swatting away an eyesore of a fly.

He turned his attention back to the main interface and looked at the [System Intelligence] option. Detailed explanatory text appeared beside it.

[This System provides a random number of intelligence reports daily (usually 3). Intelligence is divided into White (Common), Yellow (Important), Green (Precious), Blue (Rare), Red (Top Secret), and Gold (Legendary) based on value and importance. Additionally, there is Black Intelligence regarding major crises concerning the Host's life.]

[Refresh Rules: Every seven days, one piece of Yellow or higher intelligence is guaranteed to refresh; every fifteen days, one piece of Green or higher intelligence is guaranteed; every month, one piece of Blue or higher intelligence is guaranteed; every year, one piece of Red or higher intelligence is guaranteed.]

[Intelligence updates daily at midnight.]

[Newbie Gift Pack has been issued, please check it in the System Space.]

Newbie Gift Pack!

Qin Feng's spirits lifted, and he immediately directed his thoughts to the [System Space].

An illusory space about one cubic meter in size appeared in his perception. Inside, a treasure chest emitting a soft golden light hovered all alone, with an exaggerated bow tied on top.

[Newbie Gift Pack (Contains one piece of Gold-quality intelligence)]

[Would you like to open it?]