At dusk in Clearwind Village, the orange sunset painted the cobblestone road a warm gold.
Su Ming crawled down the center of the village in the most graceless way imaginable—eight legs lifting and falling in alternating rhythm, the shell scraping the ground with loud clacking, two enormous pincers held high like a seafood prisoner making a break for it.
Sprite hovered above his head, its little legs folded and draped over his right pincer while it poked at one of its nails with the other, looking thoroughly bored. "The village chief's place is in the plaza's northeast corner. That big thatch hut over there," it said, pointing with a nail. "You'd better hurry. I smell trouble. Not your seafood smell—actual trouble."
Su Ming ignored it.
Not because the nagging didn't annoy him, but because every ounce of attention he had went to mastering this new body.
To be honest, being a lobster was way harder than he'd imagined.
First came the balance. The center of gravity lived in the front half of the shell, especially those massive claws. If he lifted his head even a centimeter too high, his entire body would tip like a seesaw. He'd face-planted three times on the way here while he still hadn't mastered the right weight distribution, each fall earning the surrounding players a fit of laughter.
Second came the sense of direction. Lobsters' compound eyes covered almost 270 degrees—great for combat, awful for life. Left he saw the fountain, right he saw the blacksmith, straight ahead an NPC feeding chickens—his brain couldn't compose the mess of data into a straight line.
What really wrecked him was movement.
Lobsters were meant to move sideways.
He tried a hundred times to go straight, but every three steps his body veered right like a drunk driver with the steering wheel jammed. He was supposed to go straight to the chief's hut, yet his path drew a perfect S curve.
"Can you go in a straight line?" Sprite finally snapped.
"You try being a shrimp," Su Ming muttered.
"I'm not a shrimp."
"Then shut up."
Sprite pouted and went quiet.
It took him five whole minutes to inch from the plaza center to the village chief's gate. Players along the way snapped screenshots, whispered, and a bold mage lobbed a tiny ice orb that shattered against his shell like a snowflake—no forced damage triggered.
He didn't give them another glance.
The chief's hut looked dilapidated, a crooked wooden sign above the door reading "Clearwind Village Chief's House" in wobbly brush strokes.
An old NPC with a stooped back and beard hanging to his waist sat on the step, smoking a water pipe.
When the crimson lobster slid across the yard in a sideways S, the pipe almost dropped out of the chief's hand.
"This... what in the world is this?" the old man squinted and studied Su Ming for a full five seconds before exhaling a ring of smoke. "Oh—so you're the guy who awakened the only hidden class?"
"Yes." Su Ming's voice rumbled out from his mouthpiece.
The chief scanned him from antennae to tail, pincers to legs, then sighed deeply.
"Humph... The system told me the hidden-class owner was coming. I figured it'd be some Dragon Knight or Sword Sage. And then... you show up." He flicked ash. "A shrimp."
"Lobster," Su Ming corrected.
"Close enough."
Su Ming's antennae quivered. This NPC had the same attitude as Sprite.
"Fine, lobster," the chief said, standing and brushing ash from his robe. "Since you're here, I'll be frank. Beyond the village lies the Misty Forest. Deep inside, a level-five elite—Berserk Black Bear—has been going wild. The beast keeps hurting new players. Three squads went to clear it and got beaten back." He shot a glance at Su Ming that screamed, You're a shrimp; how can you handle it?
"Don't give me that look." Su Ming raised his right pincer and shook it in the sunlight. "This claw gripped things harder than your head."
The chief snorted but still pulled a scroll from his pouch.
[Quest: Clear the Berserk Black Bear (Elite · Level 5)][Description: Deep in the Misty Forest beyond Clearwind Village's hills, a Berserk Black Bear is rampaging. Defeat it and bring its fangs back to the village chief.][Reward: 2000 EXP, +100 Starter Village Reputation, Random Blue Equipment ×1]
Su Ming took the scroll. Two thousand experience points were huge for a level-one player. A blue piece of equipment on launch day had the value of fifty thousand yuan.
"Thanks." He rolled the scroll up and dropped it into his system bag—a whole new interaction that made him almost break a claw, since he had to carefully pinch and place items without fingers.
The chief puffed another cloud and spoke slowly, "Kid, don't show off. That bear... it's not a normal mob. It looks mutated—thick hide, can't even get cut by the guards' heavy swords. You've got a hidden class, sure, but... well, it looks like you can't fight."
Su Ming didn't argue. He turned and walked out on eight legs.
The sunset stretched his shadow into a long crimson tank rolling toward battle.
...
The Misty Forest lay about two kilometers beyond the village hills.
It was called "Misty" because a gray-white fog clung to it year-round, limiting visibility to ten meters. For regular players, the fog made hiding monsters easy. They couldn't see the beasts, but the beasts could see them.
Su Ming was different.
A lobster's antennae were natural environment sensors. He didn't need sight—his two half-meter-long antennae swung through the air, catching fluctuations in wind, molecules of scent. Within ten meters, any creature's body heat, breathing, even heartbeat couldn't escape his perception.
Way better than any Eagle Eye or Scout spell.
After entering the forest, the first thing he did wasn't hunt the bear. He hunted practice targets.
He needed to test how this body behaved in real combat.
The first monster was a level-three Grey Wolf.
It was gnawing on a rabbit corpse beneath a dead tree. Su Ming's approach made it look up, showing fangs.
Level-three Grey Wolf: 300 HP, 25 Attack, 8 Defense.
For a normal level-one player, this beast required a party. Su Ming didn't slow down. He slid sideways right at it.
The wolf lunged.
He didn't dodge. He didn't even raise a pincer.
The wolf's fangs bit his back plate.
"Clang!"—a metallic ring. The wolf's teeth nearly broke. Su Ming's HP didn't budge.
Twenty-five attack minus ninety percent damage reduction and fifty defense—the damage went negative.
The wolf froze. Probably the first time it had ever met prey it couldn't sink teeth into.
Su Ming didn't give it a second chance.
Right pincer raised and snapped.
Crack.
The wolf's skull crushed like a hydraulic press. Five hundred true damage on a 300 HP mob was annihilation.
[Grey Wolf defeated. EXP +60.]
He retracted his claw, glanced at the two copper coins and a wolf pelt dropped on the ground.
"Data verified," he noted mentally.
Defense: Level-three attacks were nullified. Even if a level-five attack doubled his exposure, they still wouldn't break him.
Offense: Five hundred true damage meant a single claw killed a level-three. A level-five elite with 800–1000 HP would take two claws.
Conclusion: Victory guaranteed.
The only wild card was the Berserk Black Bear's rumored "skin so thick the guards' swords bounce off." If its defense was insanely high, he'd still need true damage to match, but true damage ignored defense anyway.
His antennae swayed happily.
Nothing to worry about.
The next half hour became a blur of slaughter.
Level-three Grey Wolf—one claw.
Level-four Poison Scorpion—one claw.
Level-four Giant Toad—one claw.
His level climbed fast: from one to two, then to three. Each level's glow added a pale gold sheen to his shell, and he grew slightly longer.
By level three he was 1.2 meters long.
But what pumped him up wasn't size. It was a discovery: a lobster's combat style was far more versatile than he thought.
The claws weren't just offensive—they could shield. The inner curve formed a semicircular shield that, when opened, covered almost his entire front.
His tail was a weapon too. That thick fan, on wet mud or underwater, had crazy recoil. He swept a stump the size of a basin and split it cleanly.
He also found a passive effect bordering on broken: whenever he took damage—even one point—his attack speed spiked by ten percent for three seconds. It stacked.
The harder the monsters hit him, the faster he struck back.
This wasn't a lobster.
This was a perpetual-motion machine.
...
By the time he located the Berserk Black Bear, night had fallen.
In a trampled clearing deep in the forest, a two-meter-tall bear slumbered atop a rock. It was three times the bulk of a normal bear, covered in armor-like black fur with jagged bone spikes along its spine. Each breath rattled the ground.
[Berserk Black Bear (Elite · Level 5)][HP: 1500/1500][Attack: 85][Defense: 35][Skill: Berserk Charge—targets an enemy, dashes at immense speed, deals 200% attack damage with knockback. 30-second cooldown.][Skill: Earthshattering Roar—emits a roar that terrifies all nearby for three seconds. 60-second cooldown.]
Su Ming crouched behind a tree, antennae probing the bear's status.
With 1500 HP and five hundred true damage per claw, he needed three hits.
But the bear had two skills.
Berserk Charge: 200% attack was 170 damage before mitigation. After ninety percent reduction and fifty defense, it still hit him for about 17. One hit wasn't dangerous, but the knockback would create a vacuum where his claws couldn't reach.
Earthshattering Roar: three seconds of fear. He couldn't move, making him a sitting duck.
He had to think smarter.
He scanned the terrain. East of the clearing rose a three-meter stone wall. West were dense thorns. North was the path he'd come from. South lay a muddy marsh.
Stone wall.
He fixated on it.
If he lured the bear near the wall and made its charge slam into it—
He had a plan.
He stepped into view, not sneaking but swaggering. Eight legs clacked on gravel like a crimson beetle.
The bear's ears twitched, and it opened its eyes.
Two blood-red pupils locked on.
He didn't run. He stood and raised his right pincer, pointing it at the bear like a middle finger.
Bears didn't need fingers. He made do with a claw.
The bear rose.
Its shadow swallowed the ground. It roared—a low boom that shook leaves.
Then it charged.
Berserk Charge!
Exactly what he wanted.
He didn't face it head-on or sidestep. Sidestepping would fail; the bear was faster.
He ran toward the wall.
His legs fired at max. Shell scraping, sparks flew. He was fast for a lobster, but in the game world he was still a slow cyclist.
The bear closed in like a runaway truck, five meters behind. The stench hit him.
Stone wall three meters ahead.
Two meters.
One meter.
He slammed into a sharp turn—well, lobsters turned like they flipped—and stuck his body to the wall.
The bear couldn't brake.
Boom!
Two tons of fur smashed into stone. The wall shuddered, rocks exploded, dust rose. The bear's skull buried itself with a painful groan.
It froze.
He spun and lifted his right pincer.
In The God Realm, players knew a basic rule: during stun, defense dropped to zero.
So the bear's thirty-five defense vanished.
His attack was true damage regardless, but that still made him feel better.
The right pincer came down.
Crack!
It clipped the bear's nape precisely. Five hundred true damage plus a 1.5x crit—seven hundred and fifty damage.
Half the health bar vanished.
The bear howled, tore free, and slammed a paw into him.
He was blasted three meters away, shell scraped, a white mark across his back.
Twelve points lost.
Not even a full number.
He didn't celebrate. The bear stood tall, eyes flaring red.
"Roar—!"
Earthshattering Roar!
A visible shockwave spread, shaking gravel. Su Ming's brain felt like it was trapped inside a subwoofer; the shell buzzed.
Fear took hold.
His legs trembled. Vision blurred. He couldn't even lift a pincer.
Three seconds.
The bear knew the timer. It staggered toward him, paw raised. Its steps made the earth quake.
He tried to bite his tongue—no tongue. He tried to pinch himself—no fingers. He twisted his antennae together, trying to generate pain to fight the fear.
It didn't work.
System fear's effects weren't optional.
Two seconds passed.
The bear was right in front of him, paw descending. With his defense, the hit still would've taken over thirty points—big for his level.
One second.
Fear ended.
His compound eyes snapped tight. He saw the paw falling, the bear's mouth open from the roar, the bleeding wound on its neck he'd made earlier.
Everything slowed.
No dodge.
He did the craziest thing—he leapt forward.
His legs coiled and he sprung like a spring—not backward, but straight into the bear.
The paw whooshed overhead, only grazing half his severed left antenna.
He was inside its reach.
The paw couldn't swing effectively in close quarters; the bear became a clumsy obstacle.
His right pincer locked onto the neck wound.
"Shatter!"
The claws slid in on both sides like surgical knives. Five hundred true damage hit again; no crit, but it added to the existing injury.
The bear screamed.
Its health—750 minus 500—was now 250 and flashing red.
It wasn't dead.
Wounded beasts were the most dangerous. The bear thrashed, trying to shake him off. Su Ming dug his legs in, but the fur was slick; he slowly slid.
"Damn it—"
He barely had time to raise his left pincer. His tail was the final option.
That thick fan, usually for steering, became a weapon.
He arched his body and snapped the tail.
Whap!
The tail hit the bear's left eye.
It wasn't even a skill—just a tail strike. Fifteen damage.
But it hit the spot.
The bear froze. The eye exploded, dark blood and sludge spilling out. It staggered left, balance gone.
In that moment his right pincer snapped back onto the exposed throat.
Crack.
Bones fractured in the quiet forest. The bear convulsed and toppled like an iron tower.
The massive body slammed the ground, dust rising, tremors fading.
[Congratulations! Berserk Black Bear (Elite · Level 5) defeated!]
[EXP +3000!]
[You've reached Level 4!]
[You've reached Level 5!]
[Loot: Berserk Black Bear Fang ×2, Elite Fur ×1, Bear Heart ×1]
[Extra (Rare): Shattered Courage Emblem (Green · Accessory)—+5 Attack, +15% Damage to Beasts.]
Su Ming lay atop the corpse, breathing hard. His shell bore white marks and scratches. One left leg was twisted and aching.
He had won.
A level-one lobster had soloed a level-five elite.
Actually—he was level five now. Soloed a same-level elite.
He climbed off, carefully pried two fang trophies from the carcass. They were forearm length, smeared with dark blood.
"Not bad," Sprite appeared atop the bear's nose, legs crossed with an airs of arrogance. "A level-one solo against a level-five elite. First in the entire server."
"Big deal," Su Ming tossed the fangs into his bag. "As long as the data checks out, level gap means nothing."
"Maybe—you don't know that," Sprite waved at his vision's top-right.
Su Ming glanced over. His pupils shrank.
A red exclamation mark flashed madly on his system interface. It was the "Cross-server Live Feed" prompt.
Someone had broadcast the entire battle.
Not him—the system triggered it. In The God Realm, any "level-gap elite kill" auto-pushed to the global live channel. And with his golden "Abyss Sequence · Sole Hidden Class" tag, the viewer count soared past a million in minutes.
The World Channel exploded.
"Holy crap! Did you see that lobster solo a level-five elite?"
"No way! A level one beating a level five? That bear had 1500 HP! How much damage does that claw do?"
"I watched it—750 damage per claw! That's true damage! Ignores defense!"
"This is absurd. 500 fixed true damage? Did the devs go crazy?"
"Hackers! This data's impossible. A level-one lobster can't output that."
"Maybe the class is just broken?"
"Broken my foot—it's a turtle shell with a claw. If the bear hadn't smashed the wall, he'd be dead."
"Stop hating. Did you see that play? Fear ended, instant spring into melee, tail shot, last claw—this microplay? You do it?"
"...I can't. But he's still seafood."
The debate split.
One side crowned him a genius with insane awareness and justified the solo.
The other screamed "hacker," claiming the true damage numbers were impossible and demanded an investigation.
Then someone dropped a message that blew everything up.
[World]"Soaring Sword":I watched the replay thrice. The lobster reacted in 0.1 seconds when fear ended. Human reaction tops out at 0.2 seconds—even pro esports players can't do 0.1. This is either an auto-aim script or not human. I formally report an exploit—please confirm!
The world channel flooded instantly.
"Real-name report! Support!"
"0.1 seconds? That's fake."
"They're hacking! Ban them!"
"Get the lobster out of the game!"
"Stop. How would a lobster even trigger macros? With claws on hotkeys?"
"Lmao, a lobster hacking—beautiful image."
Su Ming kept his antennae still.
Sprite hovered nearby, tilting its head.
"You not angry?"
"Angry?" Su Ming stuffed the last fang into the bag and dusted his claw. "Why would I?"
"They're accusing you of hacking."
He glanced at the tiny red progress bar in the top-right corner.
[Negative Emotion Energy Collection: 12%...15%...18%...]
Numbers jumped.
Sprite had said the Abyssal Bubble Lobster King's hidden talent required collecting server-wide negative emotions—anger, ridicule, jealousy, contempt. The stronger the emotion, the faster the bar filled.
Right now, millions were generating negative energy because of his fight.
Those calling him a hacker charged him.
Those mocking him as seafood made him stronger.
His antennae rose like twin antennas.
"Let them scream."
His voice was calm as deep water.
"The angrier they get, the faster I unlock the hidden talent. When that day comes..."
He stopped.
Sprite noticed a pale dark glow flickering from his right pincer—the abyssal aura swelling.
It shivered.
Not from the wind.
From the murder intent that doubled in intensity.
...
He hauled the bear loot and crawled back toward Clearwind Village.
Just outside the forest, a twenty-player squad blocked his path.
Their gear far outshone starter players—polished weapons, a priest, a mage trailing behind. A warrior named "Sword of the Sky" led them, a guild tag hovering above: [Imperial Dynasty Guild].
Imperial Dynasty.
Su Ming's pupils narrowed.
In his old life, this guild was one of the biggest. Founded by Qin Sky, a pay-to-win powerhouse ranking top ten on the server. They monopolized resources, targeted lone players, grabbed boss kills.
This squad was clearly their vanguard.
"Sword of the Sky" spotted him—not him, but the bear corpse and the loot glow.
"Stop!"
He raised his hand. His gaze locked on Su Ming.
"So you're the lobster?" he sneered, kneeling to face the crimson shell beast, smile cold. "You're the one who killed the bear?"
Su Ming didn't reply.
He slowly lifted his right pincer.
The guild players tensed their weapons. "Sword" waved them down.
"Relax. Just a question." He crouched to eye level. "I saw your live replay. Nice moves. But have you thought about what happens when word spreads—"
His tone shifted.
"A level-one lobster killing a level-five elite. You think that draws in? Curious players, jealous guilds, and—"
He stood, tapping his sword. "—a GM squad wanting to dissect your 'hacked lobster.'"
He extended a hand.
"Join Imperial Dynasty. We'll protect you. You keep your loot, we handle your upgrades. You just bring those claws to break enemy lines."
Su Ming paused three seconds.
Then he flicked "Sword's" hand away with his right pincer.
"No."
The smile froze.
"What did you say?"
"I said no." Su Ming's voice came from the mouthpiece, muffled but crystal clear. "I'm not joining any guild. One player's enough."
Silence pressed in.
Whispers started.
"This lobster is dumb? Rejecting Imperial Dynasty?"
"Acting so cocky with a shell?"
"If it wasn't for the replay, I'd think it's worse than an NPC."
"Sword's" face turned hard. Heat drained from his eyes.
"You know what happens when you refuse Imperial Dynasty?"
Su Ming raised his right pincer toward the golden tag floating above him.
"Look carefully. Sole hidden class. Only me on the entire server."
He spoke calmly, like stating a fact.
"You want to gang up? Fine. But go watch the forum—watch that fight again."
He paused.
"I can kill a level-five elite solo. Which of you twenty is harder than that bear?"
The air froze.
"Sword's" face went pale. Behind him, faces split between anger, hesitation, and some mages subtly stepping back.
Su Ming didn't say another word. He dragged the bear carcass and crawled past them.
Eight legs clacked under the moonlight, shell gleaming cold red.
Behind him, "Sword's" voice dropped sharp.
"Remember this. Imperial Dynasty's invitation isn't for everyone to refuse."
He didn't look back.
Sprite sidled close and whispered, "That show-off move? Full marks."
His antennae twitched.
"Not show-off. That's skill."
Under the moon, a red lobster dragged a bear corpse three times its size toward Clearwind Village. The scene was both ridiculous and menacing—like a crimson meteor rampaging across The God Realm's first night.
Meanwhile, a larger storm brewed on the World Channel.
[World]"Sword of the Sky":Server-wide notice—Imperial Dynasty Guild offers 10,000 gold for the live capture of Abyss Sequence "Su Ming." 500 gold for precise coordinates. This lobster is suspected of using illegal scripts; the whole server is asked to hunt it down.
The channel flooded so hard the server stuttered for half a second.
Su Ming glanced at the message, then back at the red progress bar.
[Negative Emotion Energy Collection: 23%...]
It kept rising.
He bared his teeth—well, he didn't have teeth, but the intent was there. Sharper than any blade.
"Bring it on."
His voice disappeared into the night wind.
"The more, the better."
Clearwind Village's lights flickered ahead. He dragged the loot and kept crawling.
The moonlight reflected off his scarred yet indestructible shell, casting an abyssal crimson glow.
In everyone's eyes, one thing was certain—
This was only the beginning.