That special quest box, flashing with a dark gold light, floated extremely abruptly and oppressively in the dead center of Mo Fan's retina.
It was as if possessing some irresistible gravity all its own.
Hooo...
Mo Fan let out a long breath of turbid air mixed with the scent of blood, forcefully averting his gaze from that oppressive quest box.
Having just experienced a life-and-death struggle, his mind and body were in a state of emptiness following an extreme adrenaline rush.
He didn't immediately click open the quest representing the unknown and a turning point.
Instead, he habitually called up his basic attribute panel, trying to use those familiar numbers to calm his wildly beating heart.
With a slight mental nudge, rows of brand-new, arguably luxurious data cascaded down like a waterfall.
[ Basic Info ] Name: Mo Fan (Lu Xiaoqi)
Class: Necromancer (Peak Tier-1)
Level: LV. 10 (LOCKED)
Realm: Peak Qi Condensation (Body) / Undead Apprentice
[ Core Attributes ] HP: 150/ 210
Mana: 175 / 1250
Soul Strength (CPU): 70
Mental Load: 51 / 70
[ Skill Tree (5/5 — Full) ]
[Death Vision] (LV.1): Recon.
[Bone Armament] (LV.1): Reinforcement.
[Grave Chill] (LV.1): Control.
[Corpse Explosion] (LV.1): Demolition.
[Death Frenzy] (LV.1): Buff.
Looking at this extremely stacked panel, the corners of Mo Fan's mouth couldn't help but rise slightly, a trace of genuine, heartfelt satisfaction flashing in his eyes.
And yet.
When his gaze finally drifted back to the Experience Bar that had turned a dead, silent gray, and the [ Tier-2 Breakthrough Quest ] constantly pulsing with dark gold light...
The smile on his lips gradually faded.
"Level Capped."
Mo Fan frowned. Having played countless RPG games in his past life, he was no stranger to this mechanic.
"The Experience Bar turned gray, unable to advance an inch. Is it really true that only by completing this breakthrough quest can I continue to gain EXP to level up and step into the Tier-2 Foundation Establishment stage?"
Practice brings true knowledge.
To verify this cruel conjecture, Mo Fan turned his head and issued a silent command to Summon No. 003, who was licking the blood off its bone claws nearby.
Summon No. 003's pale green soul-fire flickered, and its sleek frame instantly dissolved into an afterimage, vanishing into the darkness.
In just a few breaths of time, it returned, its sharp tiger claws pinning down a low-tier Mine Rat that was squeaking and struggling desperately.
Mo Fan stepped forward without any nonsense.
He extended his right hand, covered in a thin, dark iron-colored membrane, and grabbed the rat by the scruff of its neck.
Crack.
With a slight squeeze from his fingertips, a crisp sound of bone fracturing rang out.
The Mine Rat's struggles ceased abruptly, all life signs extinguished instantly.
Mo Fan stared dead at the System notification area on the edge of his retina, even holding his breath.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
The System sat like a pool of stagnant water, without a single ripple. In the past, even killing this kind of bottom-tier trash mob would at least pop out a stingy "+1 XP" notification.
Now there was nothing.
That Experience Bar remained exactly as it was—that despair-inducing, dead gray; not a single millimeter of movement occurred.
"As expected."
Mo Fan let out a slow breath.
"The underlying rules of the System are absolute; there are no bugs to exploit, no workarounds."
He tilted his head back and looked at the jagged stalactites hanging from the cave ceiling above.
"If I want to step into Tier-2—unlock new skill slots, access massive computational capacity—this breakthrough quest isn't optional."
What's coming will come. No point running from it.
Mo Fan took a deep breath, his eyes hardening back into something cold and resolute.
He sat cross-legged back on 004's broad back armor, adjusting his condition to its peak, mentally prepared to face any challenge.
"Whether it asks me to go to the very bottom of the abyss to pick highly toxic spirit herbs, or to solo a more terrifying Tier-2 Spirit Beast... fine. I'll take it."
"I just tore apart a peak Tier-1 Bat Lord with my bare hands. What else can stop me?"
Riding that heroic wave of kill-gods-and-slaughter-Buddhas bravado, Mo Fan used his mind to viciously click open that flashing dark gold quest box.
Hmmmm——
The dark gold light rippled across his vision like rings on water. Rows of text, looking as if cast from fresh blood, slowly materialized before his eyes.
And then.
As those words came into focus, the resolute, ruthless expression on Mo Fan's face thoroughly locked up completely.
A chill—indescribable, bone-deep—seeped out, not from the outside world, but from the depths of his soul, from his marrow.
It instantly spread through his limbs and bones, leaving his hands and feet inexplicably cold.
[ Tier-2 Breakthrough Quest: Undead Foundation ]
[ Objective: Kill one cultivator of equal rank. (Living) ]
[ Time Limit: None ]
Silence.
In the entire underground cavern, one man and three skeletons plunged into an absolute, suffocating dead silence.
Only the faint sound of breathing remained.
Mo Fan stared dead at those few words in the quest box. Especially that one word, highlighted deliberately in blood-red.
(Living.)
His Adam's apple bobbed up and down with extreme difficulty, and he couldn't help but swallow a dry, rough mouthful of saliva.
In this moment, a realization struck him—extremely absurd, undeniably real, and terrifying the longer he pondered it!
Since crossing into this world that devoured people whole, he had always believed he had fully adapted to the laws of the jungle.
He had killed low-tier Corpse Rats, ferocious Demon-Eye Rabbits, cunning Shadow Leopards, countless demonic beasts...
And just now, he had personally tore apart a Bat Lord possessing peak Tier-1 strength!
He could dismember those beasts without changing his expression, skillfully extract their bones, strip their hides...
And even harvest the soul remnants from their corpses without a single moment of hesitation.
He thought he was already a qualified, cold-blooded Necromancer.
But...
He had never killed a true human. Not a single one.
Not someone who spoke, who thought, who felt joy and grief and anger and fear—a fellow member of his own species.
Even when facing that Steward Wang who constantly made his life difficult, or Li Rui and Shen Qiu who cornered him on the arena stage and pushed him to the edge of death...
What he had done was merely scheme, defend, and injure.
Deep in his subconscious, he had kept one last line intact.
The line of a man from modern Earth. The line of someone who had received an education and lived in a civilized world.
"Killing a person..."
That cold dark-gold line of System text was like a Demon-Revealing Mirror. It also felt like an extremely cruel, silent mockery directed at him by the high-and-indifferent System.
"Did you think you were playing a virtual game of grinding mobs and leveling up?"
"Did you think that by donning the skin of a Necromancer and slaughtering a few wild beasts, you could establish yourself in this world—a world that is truly, genuinely cruel?"
"You want to become an Undead Sovereign who plays with life and death... have you ever seen the true blood of your own kind?"
In the freezing cold stone cavern—
Mo Yan stood quietly, gripping its battered, edge-dulled cold iron sword.
Summon No. 003 crouched low, razor claws gleaming with cold light.
Summon No. 004 loomed like a silent fortress.
They were Mo Fan's most loyal instruments of slaughter. At a single command from him, they would tear apart anything living in this world.
But they had no thoughts. They didn't know what a conscience was.
Mo Fan stared blankly at the System panel as it slowly faded, then lowered his head and turned his hands over.
Both palms were caked in the Bat Lord's reeking black blood. The knuckles were mottled with deep purple bruising from exerting too much force.
These hands—which had killed countless demonic beasts—were trembling slightly at this moment. Faintly. Almost imperceptibly.
Kill one cultivator of equal rank. (Living).
It meant he had to find a living person—someone at late-stage or peak Qi Condensation—and personally cut the life from them.
"I..."
Mo Fan murmured to himself in the dim cave, his voice terribly hoarse and strange, as if he were cross-examining his own soul.
"...Do I have to kill a person?"