Tòumíng focused on the M.I.N.E. system interface, watching as the skill descriptions materialized in his vision:
NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: STONE CRUSHER
Description: Instantly mine one cubic meter of solid material into perfectly sized, manageable chunks. No tools required.
Activation range: touch.
Cooldown: 30 seconds.
Effect: Target material breaks apart into uniform pieces optimized for transport and processing. Works on stone, ore, concrete, and other solid substances.
NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: REACTOR
Description: Consume any and all materials for 50% of their potential caloric energy value.
Effect: User's digestive system can break down non-food items and convert them into usable calories.
Example: 100 grams of coal (standard energy value: 750 calories)
yields 375 usable calories when consumed. Works on wood, paper, fabric, plastic, coal, and most organic/carbon-based materials. Does NOT work on metals, glass, or purely inorganic substances.
Warning: Taste experience may be unpleasant. Caloric conversion occurs regardless of flavor.
NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: POTENTIAL FOOD
Description: See the caloric and energy value of any and all items within visual range.
Effect: User's vision displays numerical caloric content overlaid on objects. Works on food, non-food items, living creatures, and any material that could theoretically be consumed via Reactor skill. Information appears as floating text when user focuses on specific items.
NEW TITLE ACQUIRED: NAKED GUN
Description: Master of the well-timed one-liner.
Effect: When user delivers a perfectly timed one-liner, either quoted from movies or custom-created with appropriate wit and timing, user gains near-double strength and significantly improved combat technique for 60 seconds. Quality of one-liner determines magnitude of buff. Poorly timed or awkward one-liners provide no benefit and may result in embarrassment debuff.
Note: System judges one-liner quality based on comedic timing, contextual appropriateness, and delivery confidence.
Tòumíng's grin spread across his face so wide it actually hurt his cheeks. His eyes went unfocused as he processed the implications, his brain running through possibilities at lightning speed.
"HOLY SHIT!" His voice exploded with genuine excitement, making Měi Nán jump. "FINALLY! NOW I DON'T HAVE TO EAT LARD ALL DAY!"
Měi Nán stared at him, concern etched across his features. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were schizophrenic. You're standing there grinning at nothing and screaming about lard."
"Mei! MEI!" Tòumíng grabbed his shoulders, his excitement bubbling over. "I can eat ANYTHING now! Literally anything! Not just food! Anything with carbon in it! Wood! Paper! Fucking COAL if I want to!"
Měi Nán's expression shifted from concern to genuine worry. "Yeah, nobody's stopping you from eating whatever you want, but—" He paused, reaching up to touch Tòumíng's forehead like checking for fever. "Are you sure your brain is okay? The healing was only partial. Maybe you're experiencing cognitive impairment? Should I call a doctor? A neurologist? Someone who can check if the bullet damage caused—"
"My brain is FINE!" Tòumíng laughed, the sound slightly manic but genuinely happy. "Better than fine! I just unlocked three new skills and a title! Do you understand what this means?!"
"I understand that you sound absolutely insane right now and I'm very worried about potential brain damage manifesting as delusions of—"
"It doesn't even matter!" Tòumíng interrupted, his grin softening into something more genuine, more grounded.
"It doesn't matter if you think I'm crazy. I'm just happy. I'm alive. I got shot in the head three times and I'm ALIVE and standing here talking to you. That's enough. That's more than enough."
Měi Nán's worried expression cracked slightly, emotion bleeding through. "You're alive," he repeated quietly, like he was still trying to convince himself it was real. "You actually came back. I watched you die. I saw the bullet holes. You weren't breathing. And now you're standing here talking about eating coal and acting like this is normal."
"Nothing about my life has been normal since I died in that dumpster three weeks ago," Tòumíng said, his voice gentler now. "But yeah. I'm alive. I'm okay. And I'm not going anywhere."
"Good." Měi Nán's voice was firm, decisive, leaving no room for argument. "Because I'm staying here with you for a while. Maybe a week. Maybe longer. I'm not leaving until I'm absolutely certain you're not going to do something stupid and get shot in the head again."
"I don't do stupid things—"
"You quoted Die Hard at armed guards and tried to grab a gun that was pointed at your face."
"That was... tactically innovative."
"That was SUICIDALLY STUPID." Měi Nán poked him in the chest for emphasis. "So yes, I'm staying. I'm watching you. I'm making sure you rest, recover properly, and don't go running off to fight trafficking rings or whatever insane thing that woman is going to drag you into next."
"Ghost Claw was just—"
"I don't care what her name is or what her mission is. She almost got you killed. So until I'm satisfied that your brain is fully healed and you're capable of making rational decisions instead of movie-quote-based tactical choices, I'm not letting you out of my sight."
Tòumíng looked at Měi Nán's determined expression, at the stubborn set of his jaw, at the genuine concern still visible in his eyes despite the firm tone.
"You know I have my own house, right?" Měi Nán continued. "My actual apartment that I pay fifteen thousand yuan a month for? I'm choosing to stay here instead because apparently you need a babysitter to prevent you from getting murdered by rich people."
"I appreciate the concern, but—"
"No buts. I'm staying. End of discussion."
Měi Nán crossed his arms.
"Now sit down before you collapse. You just had your brain reconstructed eight hours ago. You should be resting, not standing around grinning about eating non-food items."
Tòumíng opened his mouth to argue, saw the look on Měi Nán's face, and decided that maybe—just maybe—having someone around who actually cared if he lived or died wasn't the worst thing in the world.
"Fine," he conceded. "You can stay."
"I wasn't asking permission."
"I know."
They stood there for a moment, the early morning light fully illuminating the living room now, the villa quiet except for their breathing and the distant sound of birds beginning their dawn chorus.
Tòumíng was alive. He had new skills. He had someone who cared enough to stay and make sure he didn't immediately get himself killed again.
Things could be worse.