After what felt like an eternity, the searing pain and itching in Lordi Payne’s body began to subside. He steadied his breathing and leaned against the door, cautiously peering through the peephole.
Something blocked his view—a smeared mess of red and black. He shifted angles, but the obstruction remained.
"Dried blood?" he muttered, guessing at the cause. But as he stared, something shifted within the splotch—
—a bloodshot eyeball, rolled back.
Its pupil dilated, glaring directly at him through the peephole.
Lordi stumbled back, heart pounding.
The eerie, intimate stare of the strange disembodied eye sent a chill through him, amplifying his growing unease. No matter what was that. He needed to leave the place first.
Desperate to escape, he grabbed the door handle, only to find it wouldn’t budge despite being unlocked.
"Why won’t it open?!" Panic crept up his spine. He was being targeted—by an enemy or something far worse, laced with malice. Lordi cursed his fate but refused to yield; survival in this devil’s domain demanded resilience.
Lordi forced himself to lean toward the peephole again, determined to find any clue about the eyeball. Bracing for another unsettling stare, he was stunned to find the eyeball was gone.
The courtyard outside appeared serene, a small pond bathed in the fading orange glow of the setting sun.
But wrong. As he scanned the scene, a jolt of horror hit him—the ground itself seemed to rise slowly.
A second glance revealed the truth: the house was sinking, dirt crawled up the walls like living tendrils, swallowing the house inch by inch.
This was a bad fucking omen. Gripping his Blade of Life Hater, Lordi channeled his Blood Spectre Footwork Art to flee. But the moment he surged his spirit energy, a wave of nausea overwhelmed him, forcing him to his knees.
It felt like severe spirit depletion, yet worse.
Dark blood spewed from his mouth, and the familiar pain and itching returned tenfold, now radiating from his arm joints and clawing at his neck skins and throats like worms burrowing deeper. The Blade of Life Hater grew unbearably heavy in his hand, sweat poured from his brow, and he slumped against the door. Something was horribly wrong—his body was breaking down.
Lordi had never been poisoned or bitten by venomous creatures, but he knew his condition was dire. Fear of death steeled his resolve: he had to escape, no matter how valuable the Cosmic Path Establishment Technique might be. Survival came first.
The pain and itching surged, clouding his thoughts. Gritting his teeth, Lordi summoned his last shred of focus and muttered, "System, I want to cultivate! Select the Bone Tempering Art. Smart Duration! One-Click Cultivation!"
~ Ding! *System Notification Chime*
[AllFullOS: Version 1.0.0]
> All-Smart Full-Host Cultivation System™ is at your service!
> [OCC] - One-Click-Cultivation activated.
> Features: Temporary practice, smart duration, and questionable decision-making.
A fleeting chill of relief washed away the agony and itching, but before Lordi Payne could catch his breath, the AllFullOS System chimed again.
~ Ding! *System Notification Chime*
[AllFullOS: Version 1.0.0]
> External attack detected.
> Cultivation session status: TERMINATED
> Host control: RESTORED
> Thank you for using the All-Smart Full-Host Cultivation System™ (AllFullOS v1.0.0)
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A fresh, excruciating wave of pain surged through his body, forcing a gasp as he crumpled against the door. His vision blurred for several seconds, leaving him disoriented and helpless.
Unable to flee, Lordi leaned heavily against the door, the cozy house around him a deceptive sanctuary despite its slow descent underground. Not a drop of blood stained the interior, yet an eerie wrongness permeated the air. His gaze drifted to the girl’s bedroom, filled with an unsettling number of dolls.
Some sat upright, others lay toppled, their worn fabric bodies spilling yellowed cotton from torn seams. In the dimming sunset light filtering through the house, their human-like forms took on a sinister edge, their blank eyes seeming to watch him.
"What’s wrong with this place?" Lordi muttered, a cold realization settling in. He felt like a caged animal from his past life, scrutinized by countless unseen eyes. Goosebumps prickled his neck, but he suppressed his panic—showing weakness would change nothing. His grip tightened on the Blade of Life Hater, though his strength was waning.
The entrance door refused to budge, trapping him inside, and he lacked the energy to slash it open or break a window due to the poison. With no other choice, Lordi began searching the house for another exit. He scanned the living room, then hesitated at the threshold of the princess-themed bedroom. The dolls’ lifeless stares unnerved him, conjuring visions of them springing to life if he entered. Instead, he turned to the second bedroom, elegantly furnished with a piano, a bookshelf, a single bed, and vibrant paintings adorning the walls.
A window on the far wall was boarded shut with wooden slats. Lordi tugged at them with effort, managing to pry one loose, only to freeze. Beyond the gap, pitch-black darkness loomed—not the twilight sky, but a cascade of dirt seeping through the crack. The house had already sunk beneath the ground.
"Damn it!" he cursed, heart pounding.
His gaze swept the room, landing on an odd detail: a simple cotton pillow tucked beneath the queen-sized bed, as if someone had slept under it rather than on it. Clutching his Blade of Life Hater, Lordi approached and bent low to retrieve the pillow. As he did, he noticed deep scratch marks gouged into the wooden bed frame. Following their trail, he ducked his head beneath the bed, tracing the marks along the underside of the bed board.
His blood ran cold. Etched repeatedly into the wood, filling nearly the entire surface, were the words: They’re looking at me!