The attendant led North forward from the back of the crowd.

The moment he stepped out of the shadows and into the dim light of the Self Reflection Mirror, the murmurings began.

A ripple through the gathered Visionaries. Soft whispers, quiet speculation—like a tide of curiosity swelling around him.

"Who is that?"

"Which sect does he belong to?"

"I don’t recognize him… but look at his clothes. He’s no commoner."

"Look at his bearing—definitely from a major clan or sect."

"He doesn’t seem to be from any of the local clan. Could he be from the Southern Flame Academy?"

An elderly visionary stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Must be from the Northern Ice Plains. Only those clans produce such fair features." His companion nodded sagely.

"The Northern Ice Plains? You mean the Frost Jade Clans? That region rarely sends people out of their territory…"

North kept his face carefully neutral as he approached the mirror, letting their speculation build. Every guess about his identity was another layer of protection—after all, who would dare offend a potentially powerful clan's young master?

The attendant stopped beside the massive, dark mirror, her hands neatly folded before her. She turned to North with a polite smile, her voice warm. "You may step forward now, honored guest."

North nodded and took the final step, standing directly in front of the monolithic mirror. It loomed over him, vast and endless. A reflection, yet not.

Would I get something? Or would the mirror remain dark, just as it had for so many others? What if I’m just as talentless as the failures before me? No!

North exhaled slowly, suppressing the thought before it could fully take hold. It doesn’t matter if he got nothing, what mattered though was that he tried. Moreover, he deeply believed in his base template ability to attract trouble. So, the chances of getting nothing were quite low.

For a brief moment, he caught his own reflection staring back at him. And then, he reached out and placed his hand upon the glass.

[Image Recognized: Self Reflection Fortune Mirror]

[Image Rank: Rank 5]

[Description: Its surface appears like black water under moonlight, with depths that seem to extend into infinity. When inactive, ghostly shapes move within its dark surface, forming and dissolving like smoke in wind. Can materialize Images that resonate with the viewer's truth.]

At first, nothing happened. The gathered Visionary crowd began to shift, familiar expressions of dismissal and disappointment crossing their faces. Someone sighed. Another turned away. Another failure. A repeat of every other disappointment they had witnessed today.

One of them whispered, "He’s just like the others."

The girl attendant beside him shifted uncomfortably, her earlier excitement fading. Even she seemed to think it was over.

Then—a ripple.

The mirror's surface trembled like disturbed mercury. North's reflection dissolved, replaced by absolute clarity, as if the glass had become a window into somewhere else. And in that somewhere, a shape began to form. It was like an eyeless tadpole, but wrong in ways that made the mind stumble. Silver mist coiled around it, and through its small translucent form, North could see a glowing network of nerve-like structures, branching and reconnecting like a living map of thought itself.

His hand slipped through the mirror's surface before he could think. The sensation was impossible to describe—neither solid nor liquid, like trying to grasp thick smoke that had thoughts of its own. The creature-thing coiled around his fingers, pulsing with alien life.

"What… is that?"

"I’ve never seen an Image like this before."

The murmuring grew louder like a rising tide of uncertainty and fascination. But North wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were set on the

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of hesitation, he pulled his hand back, his fingers sliding through the mirror’s surface with an unsettling ease. The strange tadpole creature—or whatever it was—pulled back into the mirror as he withdrew his hand, the silver mist dispersing like smoke in the air.

"Look at how it coils—like smoke but... alive somehow."

"Never seen anything similar in the market."

"No, no, you're all missing the point," a white-haired visionary insisted. "Those patterns??? This young master may have stumbled upon something good."

"It looks creepy, but the silver mist around it is pretty though," a young woman observed. "Wonder what it does?"

North stared at the strange, eyeless creature in his palm, its silver mist curling like tendrils of thought.

[Image Acquired: Intuition Image]

[Rank: 1]

[Description: The Intuition Image does not crawl or fly conventionally. Instead, it phases in and out of physical space, appearing near the user's temple, spine, or fingertips when activated. At times, it lingers just out of sight, flickering in the user's peripheral vision, leaving behind faint afterimages—like a memory yet to happen.]

The Intuition Image?

A rare Image. A strange one.

Why would the mirror give me this? North wondered, watching it dance at the edge of perception. How does it relate to—

His mind buzzed with questions, but before he could even begin dissecting the implications, a sharp intake of breath from the crowd shattered the stunned silence in the hall.

"That’s—!"

A middle-aged Visionary, dressed in the refined robes of a scholar, took an abrupt step forward, his voice rising with recognition.

"That’s an Intuition Image!"

His words rang through the chamber like a hammer striking metal. Another wave of murmurs rippled through the gathered Visionaries, louder than before.

"What?!"

"Did he say Intuition Image?"

"But those are—"

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"They only occur naturally! No one has ever found a way to artificially create one!"

"The Self Reflection Mirror actually created an Intuition Image?”

The whispering turned to excited discussions, voices overlapping in a chaotic storm of speculation. North exhaled through his nose. He had expected this. Some stared at him with open shock, others with greedy intent. This was like tossing raw meat into a den of starving beasts. Some of them might have been standing for a whole week, who knew?

The scholarly visionary raised his voice above the commotion. "Young Master, do you understand what you've found?”

North raised a brow. He already knew that taking out this Image wouldn’t go unnoticed. No matter what he did, there was bound to be drama—or worse, some brainless idiot taking offense for no reason. He had prepared for this. It would’ve been ideal if he could have used this Intuition Image as his foundation, shaping his path without unnecessary interference. But clearly, he’d been thinking too far ahead. Alas…

North watched as the crowd's energy shifted. Greed replaced amazement in their eyes. Visionaries who had dismissed him moments ago now pressed forward, their voices overlapping:

"I’ll pay you 4 Rain Coins for it!" A wealthy-looking merchant in fine robes stepped forward, his voice firm, his hand already reaching toward the coin pouch at his waist. "That’s enough to buy at least two high-quality Images!"

"This elder would offer 5 Rain coins—"

"Young Master, my sect would greatly reward—"

"Name your price, I'll double it!"

A jade beauty stepped forward, her smile calculated. "Surely a young master of your demeanor would not put mere Rank 1 image over friendship with my Frost Peak Sect—"

North inhaled deeply, suppressing a dry laugh. Of course, this was how it would go. His mind flickered through possible responses. He couldn’t act too eager—if he seemed desperate to sell, they’d try to drive the price down and pressure him into a quick decision. He couldn’t act too hesitant—if he looked like he didn’t know what to do, someone might decide to take matters into their own hands.

Then, the attendant stepped closer to North, her voice low but carrying enough to reach the eager crowd. "Honored guest doesn’t need to feel pressured. The Pavilion of Images ensures the safety of all customers within our premises." She paused meaningfully. "You're actually our first success in three months."

Her emphasis on 'within our premises' wasn't lost on North. Neither was the subtle warning in her professional smile.

"Of course, you have options," she continued smoothly. "If you wish, you may sell your Image to the Pavilion directly. We are always prepared to compensate fairly. Keep it for yourself, or..." her eyes flickered to the increasingly agitated crowd, "You may also sell it to anyone you see fit."

Her smile remained pleasant and neutral.

North understood perfectly. It was not hard to figure he was just a Rank 1 Visionary. With his strength, the moment he stepped outside with this Image, he'd become a target. Some of these Visionaries looked ready to form blood feuds over a rejected sale. He'd seen enough young master dramas play out in his game to know how this would go—wounded pride turning to resentment, resentment to violence.

Fame is the last thing I need right now, he thought, watching the Image flicker at the edges of his vision. Especially fame for rejecting 'generous' offers from powerful people.

He straightened his robes and addressed the crowd with the perfect mix of regret and firmness that he'd coded into countless young master NPCs. "This one appreciates all the generous offers," he said, voice carrying clearly. "However, it seems most appropriate to sell to the Pavilion of Images, given their role in this fortunate encounter."

A few faces darkened with disappointment, but none could openly object to such a diplomatic choice. The pavilion's reputation and neutral status made it the one option nobody could reasonably protest.

But, one younger Visionary, clearly from some aristocratic sect, scowled. "Hmph. A wasted opportunity."

Another one, a middle-aged visionary, scoffed under his breath. "Tch. You could have gotten far more from the right buyer. It's a rare image."

North ignored them.

"If you would follow me, honored guest," she said smoothly, gesturing toward a smaller hall off to the side, "we will finalize the transaction."

North nodded and, without looking back at the crowd, followed her toward the exit.

…

…

…

After thirty minutes of negotiations, North sat in a private room within the Pavilion of Images. The luxurious chamber had been offered without hesitation—a courtesy to the Visionary who'd provided them a rare acquisition.

In his palm, the Borrowed Might Image flowed like a living river. It was in the shape of a small stream of water that mesmerized him.

[Image Acquired: Borrowed Might]

[Rank: 1]

[Description: Like a river that never resists the current but instead guides and redirects its power. When someone attacks, the river absorbs the force, redirects it, and sends it back like a crashing wave.]

North eyes followed its endless cycle, mind drifting as he contemplated his changed circumstances.

The Intuition Image had been fascinating, certainly. The ability to sense danger before it struck would have been useful... if he'd had any way to actually handle that danger. At Rank 1, its warnings would have come barely thirty seconds before disaster—just enough time to know he was about to die, but not enough time to do anything about it.

What good is knowing I'm about to get stabbed, he mused, if I can't stop the blade?

No, he had no regrets about trading it. The pavilion had valued it at six Rain Coins—an astronomical sum for a newly awakened Visionary. Even after purchasing the Borrowed Might Image, he still had two Rain Coins left, equivalent to 200 Nether Coins. He could have gotten more if he sold it to the audiences, but why take unnecessary risk for a little bit of money? The 2 rain coins were already enough for him to buy a modest two-room house in the outer district of Lustrous Sky Clan's territory, with plenty left over. Instead, the Intuition Image would serve better as an ingredient for higher-ranked creations anyway. Let the pavilion worry about that. He needed something immediately useful, something that could keep him alive long enough to grow stronger.

His fingers traced the flowing pattern of his new Image. Yet, however, he tried to touch the water, it didn’t wet his finger. Strange. It uses was that he could absorb most physical within its range and then hit the enemy with double the effect. It kind of acted both as defense and attack. He liked it very much. This would be his foundational Image, he made up his mind.

This trade had transformed him from a defenseless Visionary with a valuable target on his back into someone with both power and resources.

Not bad for a morning's work, he thought, watching the stream-like Image ripple. From nearly broke to having both means and money.

However, he couldn't use it directly. There were proper steps that needed to be followed. First, this Image needed a place to live—its own foundation, a stable domain to anchor itself. That place was his Imaginary Island.

North's perception shifted, and his consciousness arrived in his Imaginary Island. The familiar grassy space, no larger than the private room he'd just left, awaited his modifications.

The Borrowed Might Image also manifested as a small, shimmering stream of water in his hand, flowing in midair with no direction.

A stream needs a hill, he thought practically. Without tools, he dropped to his knees and began digging with his bare hands. The soil yielded easily enough, surprisingly soft under his fingers.

But, two inches down, the soil became unexpectedly wet.

Three inches, and everything changed.

Violet liquid began seeping from the small patch of earth, pooling in his crude hole like otherworldly blood.

"Nether Essence?" North's voice cracked. "What the actual..."

This wasn't right. He'd coded Nether Essence to be like qi or mana, stored in Visionaries bodies. It wasn't supposed to just... leak out of the Imaginary Island like some oil well. Had he messed something up? Or had his world evolved so far beyond his original design that even basic mechanics worked differently now? Panic seized him. Was his Imaginary Island bleeding out? Would he die when enough essence drained away? He frantically tried to refill the hole, shoveling soil back with desperate hands. But the ground seemed to have developed an appetite—each handful of dirt disappeared into what was becoming a bowl-sized well of violet essence.

"How many more secrets are you hiding?" he muttered to his tiny domain. His head spun with implications. He grabbed his skull, waiting for the worst, for some system announcement about critical failure or imminent death.

Thirty minutes passed. Nothing catastrophic happened.

The hole sat there, now filled with what should have been impossible liquid essence, looking about as threatening as a garden water feature.

Maybe this is... normal? North thought weakly. Add it to the list of things to ask about if I ever make any friends who won't try to eat me.

Pushing aside his existential crisis, he focused on the practical. He built up a small earthen bowl around the hole instead of a hill and carefully placed the Borrowed Might Image inside. The water-like Image revolved peacefully, trapped in an infinite cycle, seeming quite content with its new home. Then, an idea hit him. Maybe I should just buy a real bowl for it. A proper container—yes, that made sense. But there was another problem—Borrowed Might needed to be fed. And not just anything. It ate sweat. But not just any sweat. Sweat soaked in blood. Every seven days, it had to be nourished with effort, pain, and struggle. North sat there, completely speechless.

Then he ran through his options: He could train until he sweated blood himself, or... maybe buy it from other Visionaries who fought regularly? Their sweat would already be enriched with power.

He stared at his tiny violet well and his perpetually flowing Image, feeling somewhat speechless. He'd created this world's rules, but clearly, they'd taken on a life of their own.

I thought I was the developer, he thought wryly. Turns out I'm just another user discovering the patch notes.