A Letter

[ REWARDS ]

Please choose one:

► Information

► Increase in Qi

Jiang's mind raced.

A simple choice, yet one that could decide his fate.

If he picked Increase in Qi, it might erase his Pseudo status, breaking the restrictions that crippled his ability to cultivate. He could finally begin proper cultivation—something he desperately needed to survive. His Synchronization Skill had already granted him techniques from his gaming days. With the Jiang Clan's vast resources, he could restore his Qi reserves, climb the cultivation ladder, and reclaim the strength he once wielded in God's Game.

A shortcut to power.

But power without knowledge was a death sentence.

If the Information reward contained memory fragments, skipping it could be a fatal mistake. He had just learned about Old Jiang's use of forbidden poison—who knew what else the former owner of this body had done? The more he uncovered, the more death flags loomed over him.

Even if he increased his Qi, reaching his game-level strength would take time. Until then, avoiding the myriad ways he could die was impossible without knowing what traps had already been set.

A stalemate.

No—this was a cruel deadlock.

If he didn't choose wisely, he might seal his own fate.

Jiang exhaled, his fingers twitching over the floating selection.

A full thirty minutes passed before he finally made his choice.

Information.

The screen flickered, its usual white translucence darkening to a deep blue. A new notification appeared.

[ INFORMATION: A Letter from Admin #04 ]

Jiang frowned.

Admin?

A sharp sense of déjà vu crept up his spine. His mind flickered back to his encounter with Hall Master Rumei—back to the moment his emotions had spiraled out of control.

Then, he remembered.

[System: Emergency Access Request]

[Admin #04: Checking Conditions…]

That message had appeared just before his Composed Mind Skill was forcefully registered.

Back then, Jiang hadn't thought much of it. After all, Admin functions were standard in God's Game.

Admins were AI entities, programmed to oversee the game world, approve system requests, and handle player complaints. One of the reasons God's Game was so successful was its neutral AI governance—ensuring that no game master or developer could interfere with the world's autonomy.

But this…

A letter?

That wasn't normal.

Admins never sent personal messages. They responded to system complaints via cold, automated notifications. A direct letter had never been part of the game's mechanics.

Jiang's unease deepened.

What the hell is happening?

Despite his growing dread, he pushed forward.

Open → Admin #04 Letter, Jiang commanded in his mind.

The message unfolded before him.

[ To:

Player Jiang Shen,

How are you enjoying the game? I hope you're having fun—immersing yourself in its realistic experience, hehe.

Jokes aside, let's get down to business.

A little reminder: don't try to outsmart the System.

Play your role as intended.

And more importantly—kill Chen Feng in the upcoming competition.

Don't get soft~ or else the consequences will be... unfortunate.

Oh, and one last thing—remember to pray to God.

After all, the Gods are always watching.

Sleep well, 4th-Ranked Player.

Sweet Dreams~

—Admin #04 ]

Jiang's grip tightened. His nails pressed against his palms, leaving deep indents in his skin.

A command. A warning. A mockery.

They wanted him to kill Chen Feng.

Not as a game choice, but as a mandatory act.

Jiang took a slow, steady breath, but his mind churned with fury.

These motherf**kers are trying to control me.

Forcing him to act.

Like he was nothing more than a toy—a character dancing on strings for their entertainment.

Disgust churned in his stomach.

So this was it.

This wasn't just God's Game.

It was something much worse.

And the most horrifying part?

The Gods were watching.

Jiang's jaw clenched.

A deep, seething rage coiled in his chest—burning, raw, and unnervingly quiet.

He hated being controlled.

He had fought for everything in his life—his rank, his skills, his very survival. Even in his old world, where fate had dealt him a cruel hand, he had carved out his own path.

And now, some Admin bastard wants to push me around?

Jiang exhaled slowly and spat outside the bath.

Like f-cking hell I'd let that happen.

No matter what this system, these admins, or these so-called Gods demanded—

He would not be their puppet.

He would not play this game their way.

The blue screen flickered out of existence, leaving Jiang in the dim glow of candlelight.

He took a slow, measured breath, forcing his composure to return.

The warm water around him had turned lukewarm. His fingers, submerged for too long, had begun to wrinkle.

Without another thought, he pushed himself up. Water trickled down his body as he stepped out of the bath, steam curling around his skin.

He slipped on a neatly folded robe and moved forward, his steps light, deliberate.

And then—

His body moved on its own.

Instinctively.

Jiang's brows furrowed as he walked toward the cupboard near the far end of the room. His fingers brushed against its ornate wood, tracing the carvings along its surface.

The layout of the room. The placement of the furniture. The exact number of steps from the bath to his sleeping quarters.

He knew them all.

As if he had lived here for years.

As if he had done this countless times before.

Jiang stilled.

His pulse quickened, a cold sensation creeping down his spine.

No.

No, no, no.

His mind flashed back to earlier.

When he walked back to his quarters from the courtyard.

He had navigated effortlessly. Turned corners without hesitation. Moved through corridors like he had traveled them a thousand times.

Like it was habit.

Like he belonged.

Jiang swallowed, his throat dry.

What the f**k?!

He pressed a hand against the cupboard, gripping it tightly as his breath came shallow.

Had he memorized all this without realizing?

That's impossible. He had only been in this world for a single day.

Then... was it Old Jiang's memories? Had they always been there, buried beneath the surface?

Or were they merging?

Or was he...

Becoming him?

A deep, gnawing dread clawed at the edges of his consciousness.

Jiang's grip on the cupboard tightened, but the cold, sinking feeling in his gut refused to fade.

He had faced death threats, hidden schemes, and a system hell-bent on bending him to its will.

But this?

This wasn't an enemy he could outwit.

This wasn't a crisis he could plan around.

This was him.

Or... was it?