Chapter 92 - Sometimes, Your Best is Not Enough
Drake stood frozen, his breath shallow and uneven, as he watched Bai Huolong rise once again from the debris-strewn battlefield. The sight filled him with a deep, primal dread. The jagged hole through the Don’s face, where the railgun shot had struck, began to heal before his eyes, flesh knitting together unnaturally fast. The talisman that had burned away moments ago was now a smoldering fragment clinging to the undead warrior’s face.
The figure of Bai Huolong, though still unmistakably a Jiang Shi, seemed different—his movements less rigid, his gaze filled with something deeper than blind aggression. With one swift motion, Bai Huolong tore away the remaining piece of the charred talisman from his face. He held it between his fingers, frowning in confusion, his voice cutting through the heavy silence.
“What… is this?”
He muttered, the deep baritone of his voice laden with bewilderment. His gaze darted around the battlefield, scanning the destruction.
“Where am I? What’s going on?”
Drake, battered and barely standing, could only watch in stunned silence. His body screamed for rest, every movement a battle against the limits of his strength. The pain was distant, dulled by the sheer exhaustion coursing through him, but his instincts told him one thing: he wasn’t safe.
Bai Huolong’s voice grew steadier as he spoke again, his confusion giving way to realization.
“The last thing I remember… the invaders… their relentless attacks. And Jianfeng…”
His brow furrowed as fragmented memories began to surface. His expression darkened as clarity struck him, the weight of his circumstances dawning fully.
He raised his trembling hands, turning them over slowly, his gaze fixed on his skin's stark, unnatural pallor. These were the hands that had once commanded armies, that had cleaved through enemies with unmatched precision and strength. Now, they were cold, lifeless, devoid of the vitality that had defined him. The faint, sickly sheen of undeath clung to his flesh, a grotesque reminder of what he had become.
Bai Huolong’s chest heaved as the weight of realization pressed down on him. His fingers flexed, and he felt the alien stiffness of his movements, like a puppet manipulated by unseen strings. His breathing grew uneven, the air hissing through his teeth as his thoughts spiraled.
“This… this is what I am now.”
He murmured, his voice a low rumble laced with venom. His lips curled into what might have been a smile, but the expression carried no joy—only a cruel, sardonic twist of his features. That faint smile faltered, quivering as the enormity of his situation sank deeper. A bitter chuckle escaped him, a sound so hollow and fractured it echoed like a death knell in the heavy air.
The chuckle grew louder, more jagged, warping into a laugh that carried the sharp edge of despair. It clawed its way out of his throat, raw and unrestrained, reverberating across the battlefield. His laughter was not born of humor, but of bitterness so profound it seemed to bleed into the atmosphere around him.
Drake, watching from a distance, felt an icy chill crawl up his spine. The sound of the Don’s laughter struck him like a physical blow.
As the laugh subsided, Bai Huolong’s expression twisted further. His lips pulled back into a grimace, his teeth bared as his face contorted with raw, seething rage. His eyes, alight with an unnatural glow, seemed to burn with equal parts hatred and despair.
“So… I died.”
Bai Huolong said, his voice dripping with venom. He clenched his fists tightly, the undead flesh creaking under the strain. His shoulders shook, and for a moment, it seemed as if he might crumble under the weight of his realization. But instead, his fury erupted, consuming every trace of doubt or sorrow within him.
“I was defeated… and now I’m this… thing. A Jiang Shi. No better than the lifeless pawns I once commanded.”
His words faltered, caught in his throat as raw emotion surged through him, and for a moment, silence hung in the air like the calm before a storm. Then, with a sudden, primal eruption, Bai Huolong threw his head back, unleashing a guttural growl that built into an ear-splitting, feral scream of unrestrained fury. The sound tore through the battlefield, a visceral manifestation of his anguish and wrath, reverberating like the roar of an enraged beast.
The sheer force of his cry rippled outward in waves, the ground trembling beneath its intensity. Stones cracked, dust and debris lifted into the air, and the atmosphere seemed to buckle under the weight of his fury. Drake, battered and already on the brink, was forced to clutch his ears tightly, the piercing sound threatening to tear through his skull. His teeth clenched, his body trembling as he braced against the overwhelming force of the Don’s rage.
“Curse this Existence!”
Bai Huolong roared, his voice a storm of venom and hatred that seemed to rip apart the very fabric of the world around him. The words carried the full weight of his despair, his humiliation, and his loathing, each syllable laced with the unrelenting bitterness of a man who had been stripped of everything and forced into a grotesque mockery of life.
His blazing eyes, twin orbs of unnatural light that burned with the fire of his fury, fixed on Drake with a searing intensity. They were the eyes of a man who had been broken, reforged into something monstrous, and now sought only vengeance. The air around him crackled with energy, his Ki flaring violently, twisting and churning like a maelstrom of pure rage.
“You!”
He hissed, pointing a trembling finger at the young warrior.
“This is your fault… yours and your comrades. You dared to mock me, to bring me to this... You will pay!”
Drake’s blood ran cold as Bai Huolong continued, his words laced with fury.
“I’ll make you suffer—slowly, painfully. Then I’ll hunt the rest of them down, starting with that dammed Jianfeng!”
A surge of Ki exploded from the undead, thick with bloodlust. The oppressive energy crashed into Drake like a tidal wave, leaving him trembling under its weight, and before he could react, Bai Huolong moved.
He launched himself forward with the force of a missile, the sheer speed of his approach leaving an afterimage in his wake. Drake barely managed to step aside, avoiding a fatal blow by the slimmest margin. But the shockwave from Bai Huolong’s punch detonated like a bomb, sending the blond flying through the air as sharp pain tore through his body.
Before Drake could regain any semblance of control, Bai Huolong was already upon him. The undead warrior moved with a speed that defied reason, his body a blur of pale malice that seemed to phase through the air itself. The boy, still reeling from the earlier blast, was helpless as Bai Huolong materialized behind him with an otherworldly fluidity, his movements a perfect combination of raw power and unrelenting precision.
Before Drake could react, the Don’s leg shot upward like a whip, his foot connecting squarely with the blond’s midsection. The force of the kick was monstrous, propelling Drake skyward with such speed that it felt like a cannon had struck him. The sickening crack of bones shattering under the impact echoed through the air, the sound so visceral that it sent a wave of nausea through Drake’s already battered body.
His vision swam, a haze of agony and vertigo overtaking him as the world became a blur of motion and pain. Every nerve in his body screamed in protest, his mind desperately trying to piece together a strategy, a defense—anything to survive. But it was futile. He couldn’t muster the strength to even raise his arms as Bai Huolong appeared again, his undead form now directly above him, descending with an unstoppable force.
The Don’s hand shot out like a vice, grabbing Drake’s head with a grip that felt like iron wrapped in malice. The boy’s skull throbbed under the pressure, his mind barely registering the sharp pain through the haze of his injuries. With a feral snarl, Bai Huolong twisted his body mid-air, spinning like a coiled spring unleashed. The momentum he generated was nothing short of devastating, and with a final, bone-crushing motion, he hurled Drake downward with the force of a catapult.
The sound barrier shattered as Drake’s body was sent plummeting toward the ground. The resulting sonic boom exploded outward, a deafening shockwave that rippled across the battlefield, shaking the very earth. The sheer velocity of the descent created a vacuum around the blond, the air screaming in his ears as he hurtled toward certain destruction.
Through the haze of agony and the blinding rush of wind, Drake summoned every ounce of his remaining willpower. Gritting his teeth against the searing pain, he forced his Ki into action, activating [Single Step] with desperate urgency. A shimmering platform materialized below him, its surface trembling under the strain of his rapidly approaching body.
The impact was brutal. The platform absorbed part of the kinetic energy, but it wasn’t enough to stop the sheer force of Bai Huolong’s throw. The shock traveled through his legs like a lightning bolt, and with a sickening crack, both bones snapped under the strain. Drake’s scream tore through the air, raw and guttural, a sound of pure agony that echoed across the battlefield. His body crumpled as he hit the ground, his limbs sprawled in a broken heap, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.
The world around him was a haze of pain and disorientation. Every muscle in his body screamed for rest, his mind barely able to form coherent thoughts through the oppressive weight of his injuries. He turned his head slightly, his vision swimming with black spots, and through the haze, he saw him.
Bai Huolong descended slowly, his undead form radiating an aura of unrelenting malice and overwhelming dominance. Each step he took was deliberate, exuding an air of absolute control, his lifeless eyes locked onto Drake with a gaze that promised further suffering. The ground seemed to tremble beneath his presence, his Ki swirling around him like a storm of fury and vengeance, crackling with an intensity that felt suffocating even at a distance.
Drake’s mind spiraled into a chaotic jumble, each thought slipping away as his body refused to move. He had faced overwhelming odds in the real world, enemies who pushed him to the brink, but this... this was something entirely different. Bai Huolong wasn’t just powerful—he was untouchable, a force of nature that seemed to defy the boundaries of mortality itself.
His vision blurred, the edges of his sight darkening as his strength dwindled. He lay there, barely alive, unable even to feel the pain that once consumed him. The cold grip of death began to creep in, life itself escaping from him. The Don’s heavy footsteps echoed in the distance, each one louder, closer, a drumbeat of impending doom.
Drake’s breath hitched, shallow, and ragged, as his head lolled to the side. Through his blurred vision, he could barely make out Bai Huolong’s figure advancing slowly, his malice palpable. But then, something unexpected pierced through the haze of his fading consciousness—a faint, flickering light.
⌠Otherworldly Fanbase: All your fans are screaming for you not to give up!⌡ ⌠Otherworldly Fanbase: Your oldest fan is donating! You have been tipped “Middle Heal: Rank C”.⌡ ⌠Fanbase Count: [5 members]⌡
A system window materialized before him, its glow almost too bright for his failing eyes. He couldn’t make out the words or numbers displayed; they were smudged, as if viewed through a foggy lens. It lingered for only a moment before his eyelids grew too heavy, his body too weak. His mind surrendered to the inevitability of death, and he closed his eyes one final time, ready to embrace the end.
But death didn’t come.
Instead, a strange warmth coursed through his veins. His eyes shot open just in time to see Bai Huolong’s foot descending toward his head, intent on crushing his skull. Adrenaline surged through him, and before he could even think, his body reacted. He rolled to the side with impossible speed, narrowly avoiding the devastating stomp.
“What?”
Bai Huolong’s voice was a low growl of disbelief, his expression twisted with confusion.
Drake scrambled to his feet, his movements frantic yet surprisingly steady. His heart raced as he stumbled back, his hands clutching his chest, his sides, any part of his body he could reach. The pain was gone. He could breathe again. His hands trembled as he inspected himself, his mind struggling to process what had just happened.
His body was healed—not entirely, but enough for him to stand tall once more. The wounds that had brought him to death’s door were no longer debilitating; his strength had returned, coursing through him like a roaring river. Drake’s breathing steadied as the realization sank in. Whatever had just occurred, it had saved him from certain death.
Bai Huolong’s piercing gaze locked onto him, his confusion shifting to a simmering fury.
“You should be dead.”
Drake clenched his fists, the weight of the moment crushing down on him like an iron shackle. His survival defied all logic, a miraculous intervention that kept him standing when he should have been nothing more than a lifeless heap. Yet here he was, alive and face-to-face with Bai Huolong, the embodiment of overwhelming power. His breathing steadied, his resolve hardened, but he couldn’t shake the truth—this was a fight he couldn’t win. Not directly.
The Don’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of disdain crossing his face before he lunged forward with blinding speed. Drake barely had time to react as a flurry of strikes rained down upon him, each blow precise and ruthless. Bai Huolong’s movements were an art form, a seamless blend of power and technique. His fists drove forward like pistons, his legs sweeping and striking with terrifying accuracy.
Drake’s body moved on instinct alone, his Ki pushed to its absolute limits. He dodged by millimeters, his muscles screaming in protest as he twisted and ducked. The air crackled with energy as he managed to block a few strikes, the impact sending shockwaves through his bones. Even with every ounce of Ki he had, every fiber of his being focused on survival, Bai Huolong’s strength dwarfed his own.
The battlefield became a storm of motion, a relentless exchange of blows. The Jiang Shi's strikes tore through the air, each one carrying the weight of destruction. Drake countered with desperate improvisation, his movements erratic but guided by keen survival hunches, a sense polished after years of street fights. He sidestepped a vicious elbow strike, ducked beneath a spinning kick, and even managed to parry a crushing downward punch. But the difference in their power was painfully clear. Each block numbed his arms, each dodge barely kept him alive.
Drake’s mind raced, searching for a way out. He knew he couldn’t defeat Bai Huolong in a prolonged fight; this was a battle of survival, not victory. As the blows exchanged, he began to observe, looking for an opening, any opportunity to escape.
And then he saw it. A fleeting moment, a crack in Bai Huolong’s relentless assault—a gap in his defense. Drake didn’t hesitate. Drawing every ounce of Ki he had left, he charged his fist, the energy crackling around his arm like a storm. With a roar, he surged forward and swung his fist directly at the Don’s face.
The impact created a shockwave that rippled through the battlefield, dust and debris scattering in all directions. For a brief moment, Drake thought he had done it. But then the undead warrior’s expression twisted into a malevolent smile.
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“So…”
Bai Huolong drawled, his voice dripping with mockery.
“How many fingers did you break? Three or four?”
Drake’s heart sank. He pulled back his hand and stared at it in disbelief. The searing pain confirmed the truth—almost all of his fingers were broken, twisted at unnatural angles. A cold sweat ran down his back as Bai Huolong’s smile grew wider, his undead aura radiating an oppressive malice.
Before Drake could react, the Don took full advantage of the opening. With a sudden burst of speed, he drove his foot into the boy’s stomach, the sheer force of the kick feeling like a wrecking ball.
Drake’s breath was forced from his lungs as he coughed up blood, his body rocketing backward. He crashed into the ground with a thunderous impact, rolling several meters before coming to a stop. Every nerve in his body screamed in agony as he lay there, gasping for air.
Through the haze of pain and the taste of blood in his mouth, Drake could hear Bai Huolong’s footsteps drawing closer. Slow, deliberate, and filled with menace, each step felt like a countdown to his end. His body was wracked with agony, his breathing shallow, and his vision blurred. Yet, as his enemy loomed over him, a flicker of hope sparked in his mind—a desperate, fleeting thought.
The teleportation orb.
Drake’s heart raced despite his broken body. Had five minutes already passed? His only usable hand trembled as he fumbled through his tattered clothes. His fingers brushed against the smooth, familiar surface of the orb, and relief surged through him as he saw its faint glow—it was ready to use.
But just as he was about to press the activation button, a blur of motion cut through the air. Bai Huolong, using a terrifying quick-step technique, appeared directly in front of him, his undead form radiating malice.
With a swift, devastating kick, Bai Huolong struck Drake’s arm, sending the orb flying through the air.
The Don’s eyes followed the orb’s trajectory before snapping back to Drake.
“I recognize that trinket, one of those weird tools Park Zhen uses to teleport. So, is Park Zhen behind this, too?”
He growled, his voice venomous. The mention of Park Zhen twisted Bai Huolong’s expression into pure rage. His fiery eyes blazed with unbridled hatred, his undead aura growing darker and more oppressive.
“Of course, it doesn’t matter. If that snake is involved, I’ll deal with him, too. But first...”
He turned toward the orb, his voice dripping with malice.
“I’ll use this to return and see what’s happening for myself.”
Drake’s heart sank. Letting Bai Huolong return could spell disaster—not just for him but for his friends and the plan they’d risked everything to enact. Summoning every ounce of strength he had left, the boy forced his battered body upright.
He could barely stand, let alone fight, but as Bai Huolong moved toward the orb, Drake clenched his fists, his resolve hardening.
“Not... going to happen.”
He muttered, staggering forward. The undead warrior didn’t even turn.
“You’re already broken. Stay down and accept your fate.”
But Drake surged forward, reckless and determined, throwing himself at Bai Huolong. What followed was chaos—a desperate exchange of blows. The Don’s strikes were monstrous, each one capable of breaking bones or rupturing organs. Drake’s movements were erratic, wild, and fueled purely by instinct and adrenaline.
He blocked where he could, dodged when he had to, and attacked whenever an opening presented itself. It was clear Bai Huolong was still vastly superior, his martial arts precise and devastating, but the boy didn’t care about the damage he was taking. His focus was singular: stop the undead warrior from using the orb.
Through sheer determination, Drake managed to land a surprise combination. A flurry of punches followed by a spinning kick, his movements unrefined yet imbued with all the Ki he could muster. His final strike—a glowing uppercut—connected with Bai Huolong’s jaw, creating a shockwave that echoed across the battlefield.
For a split second, Bai Huolong staggered.
“Impressive…”
Bai Huolong admitted, his voice cold and mocking as he wiped a speck of dust from his jaw.
“But ultimately pointless.”
Drake’s heart sank once again as he realized the truth. His strongest efforts hadn’t even phased Bai Huolong. Before he could react, the undead warrior retaliated with a brutal knee strike to Drake’s stomach, sending him hurtling backward.
The blond hit the ground hard, the impact leaving him dazed and gasping for air. More blood dripped from his mouth as he struggled to push himself up, his limbs trembling with exhaustion. Bai Huolong approached slowly, his voice filled with cruel amusement.
“I haven’t killed you yet for a reason.”
He said, towering over Drake.
“I promised to make you suffer. When I return, I’ll bring the heads of your friends with me. Then, and only then, will I grant you the release of death.”
Drake’s vision blurred again as the Don turned toward the glowing orb lying on the ground. His body screamed in protest as he tried to rise, his arms trembling under the weight of his battered frame.
And then, a screen appeared beside him, flickering like a chat message.
image [https://i.imgur.com/CI8dvOQ.png]
Drake squinted at it through bloodied eyes. It was clear enough to read, but...
“No.”
Drake rasped, his voice weak but firm.
“I can’t run. My friends are on the other side. If he goes back...”
His voice faltered as pain surged through him, but he clenched his teeth and forced himself upright.
“I won’t let it happen.”
image [https://i.imgur.com/oRMIwqB.png]
Another screen appeared, but Drake ignored it, his voice barely a whisper.
“I’m not running...”
Then, suddenly, a new system window materialized in front of him. Unlike the others, its presence was overwhelming, commanding his full attention.
⌠The skill [Pinnacle Class Craft - Rank ?] has evaluated your potential and effort, it will be replaced with [Class: Cultivator - Rank A+]⌡ ⌠Reroll?⌡ ⌠Y/N⌡
Drake’s eyes widened as he read the message, his breath caught in his throat. His body trembled from exhaustion, his vision swimming with pain and despair. But this was his last chance—his only chance.
His hand moved, trembling but purposeful, pressing [N]
The moment the decision was made, a surge of energy erupted around him, wrapping his broken body in a blinding light. It wasn’t soothing or comforting—this energy was raw and unyielding, searing through him like molten steel.
⌠The skill [Pinnacle Class Craft - Rank ?] has been replaced by [Class: Cultivator - Rank A+]⌡ ⌠[Class: Cultivator - Rank A+] will limit what kind of skills you can learn from now on and will boost the compatible ones.⌡ ⌠[Class: Cultivator - Rank A+] has added 4 new skills to the user’s catalog.⌡
His wounds remained, his strength still waning, but something had changed. New knowledge burned itself into his mind, a clarity that hadn’t been there moments before. His instincts sharpened, and he felt an unfamiliar rhythm—a pulse of understanding.
He didn’t heal. His body screamed in protest as he forced it to move, battered and bleeding, but he no longer cared. He had something new now. A skill. His first true skill: [Heavenly Wind Step Lv1].
Bai Huolong’s sneer of triumph remained as he focused on the orb lying on the ground, his attention fixed entirely on retrieving it. The air erupted with a sudden gust, but he didn’t notice—his senses were locked on his prize.
In an instant, Drake reappeared—right in front of him. The orb was within Bai Huolong’s grasp, his fingers nearly brushing against it, but the blond’s sudden presence stole it from his reach. Drake’s hand darted forward, clutching the glowing orb just before activating it.
Bai Huolong’s expression twisted into fury, and with a feral growl, he lunged at Drake.
“If you think you can escape, then I’ll—”
But the boy didn’t give him the chance. Before Bai Huolong could finish his threat, Drake threw the orb backward with every ounce of strength he could muster. It flew through the air, and just as the Don turned to intercept it, the orb flashed and disappeared in a burst of light.
Bai Huolong froze, his fiery eyes widening with realization. The orb was gone—teleported back to its original location.
Drake staggered, a painful smile stretching across his face despite the blood dripping from his mouth.
“Looks like... you’re not going anywhere.”
He rasped, his voice barely audible but filled with defiance. The realization hit Bai Huolong like a storm.
“You...”
His voice trembled with rage, his aura darkening as his Ki erupted around him in a vortex of hatred.
“You dare?! You think you’ve won?!”
Bai Huolong’s dark Ki surged violently, and he unleashed a relentless barrage of attacks. Each strike was brutal, cracking the ground and air around them, but Drake stood firm. With newfound determination, he activated another skill: [Iron Body Manifestation Lv1].
Drake’s Ki flared brilliantly, surrounding him in an aura of unyielding energy. His battered body hardened as the skill took effect, reinforcing his endurance far beyond its limits. Every blow from Bai Huolong slammed into him like a cannonball, yet he didn’t flinch. He didn’t stagger. He stood firm against the onslaught, his defiance fueling Bai Huolong’s mounting frustration.
“You’re nothing but a speck beneath my feet!”
Bai Huolong roared, unleashing a devastating strike aimed at shattering Drake’s resolve. But Drake’s eyes glinted with an unrelenting fire. His Ki began to gather in his right fist, glowing brighter with each passing second, accumulating every ounce of power and pain he had endured. The energy radiated like a burning sun, and with a roar, he lunged forward, aiming his glowing fist directly at Bai Huolong’s face.
The attack was unlike anything he had ever performed—a culmination of desperation, instinct, and sheer willpower. The air screamed as his fist tore through it, leaving a brilliant trail of energy in its wake.
Bai Huolong, despite his immense power, seemed almost caught off guard by the audacity of the move. His eyes narrowed, and at the very last second, his body moved with an unnatural, lightning-quick reaction. He twisted his head to the side, Drake’s glowing fist passing mere millimeters from his face.
The punch continued its trajectory, the missed strike releasing its devastating energy into the terrain behind them. A massive explosion erupted, the Ki blast obliterating everything in its path. The ground shattered, rocks and debris flying in all directions as a shockwave rippled outward, leaving a smoking crater in its wake.
Drake stumbled forward, his body giving out as the last remnants of his strength ebbed away. He glanced at Bai Huolong, hoping for a sign of weakness, a hint of damage—but the undead warrior stood there, completely unscathed.
Bai Huolong’s lips curled into a dark, mocking grin.
“Pathetic.”
He sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. Without warning, Bai Huolong rushed forward, his fists becoming a relentless blur. Each strike found its mark with devastating precision, shattering bones and tearing through Drake's already fragile defenses now that his skill had been deactivated. A thunderous blow to his ribs cracked them like dry twigs, sending waves of pain through his body. Another strike to his shoulder dislocated it with a sickening crunch, and a brutal punch to his gut left him coughing up blood. The flurry of punches overwhelmed Drake, his body crumbling under the onslaught. Finally, a massive strike to his chest sent him hurtling backward, tumbling across the ground like a ragdoll.
Drake’s vision swam as he lay motionless, his body screaming in agony again. He teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, barely able to register Bai Huolong’s enraged voice.
“You know what?”
Bai Huolong growled, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he approached.
“Forget dragging this out. I’ll kill you right here, right now. Then I’ll hunt down the others, one by one.”
But before Bai Huolong could strike the killing blow, something unexpected happened. A translucent, sharp tendril emerged from the human-shaped paper on his chest, piercing through him like a spectral sword. Bai Huolong’s roar of pain echoed through the battlefield as he fell to his knees, clutching his chest, his face twisted in agony and confusion.
Drake, barely clinging to consciousness, saw the tendril and recognized it instantly. Through his blurred vision, a name escaped his bloodied lips.
“Adam...”
He muttered weakly, realizing his friends were still fighting on the other side. They hadn’t given up. How could he?
Summoning every ounce of willpower, Drake tried to push himself up, but his broken body refused to respond. He collapsed again, his breathing ragged and shallow. Then, a faint glow appeared before him—a chat box and a system window materialized in his fading vision.
image [https://i.imgur.com/S0KIL84.png]
⌠Otherworldly Fanbase: All your fans are imploring you to run!⌡ ⌠Otherworldly Fanbase: Your oldest fan is donating! You have been tipped “UR-rank Plot Device: Emergency Exit”.⌡ ⌠Fanbase Count: [6 members] *+1 new member*⌡ ⌠‘UR-rank Plot Device: Emergency Exit’ will take you out of the scenario and you will return to the lobby, until the story has been finished.⌡
The message offered him a way out, a chance to escape. He stared at it for a long moment, then let out a weak, broken laugh. Coughing up blood, he murmured through gritted teeth.
“I... might be weak now... but as long... as they’re fighting... I won’t stop either.”
image [https://i.imgur.com/8bvcBgE.png]
Another chat message appeared, this one questioning his resolve, as though his fanbase doubted his will to fight. Drake’s eyes burned with defiance, and with all the strength he could muster, he screamed hoarsely,
“Of course!”
image [https://i.imgur.com/Rl2nBo7.png]
⌠Otherworldly Fanbase: All your fans are in shock because of your resolve!⌡ ⌠Otherworldly Fanbase: Your oldest fan is donating! You have been tipped “L-rank Plot Device: Sneak Peek”.⌡ ⌠Fanbase Count: [8 members] *+2 new member*⌡ ⌠‘L-rank Plot Device: Sneak Peek’ will give you a temporal taste of your future potential.⌡
Pain wracked his body as he forced his arm to move, lifting it with sheer determination. A guttural cry tore from his throat as he activated the plot device that had appeared before him, a desperate gamble to stand and fight once more.
⌠Notice: L-class Plot device: “Sneak Peek” has been used⌡ ⌠…⌡ ⌠…⌡ ⌠User Drake Shaw’s potential is brimming with determination!⌡ ⌠The system is resonating with the user’s ambitions and memories!⌡ ⌠Congratulations!⌡ ⌠’Personal Skill: Effort Always Pays Off’ has been temporarily created⌡ ⌠"Through endless trials and ceaseless strife, you have forged a strength born of resilience and perseverance. Every step forward, no matter how painful, has shaped your resolve. Your power reflects your unyielding spirit and the sacrifices you’ve made to survive."⌡
[Personal Skill: Effort Always Pays Off Lv1] [Extremely high-level skill that gives the user the power to level up any other skill (either their own or that of an ally) up to the maximum possible.] [The level increase on the target skills depends on the user’s potential stat.] [This personal skill can only affect one skill at a time and can’t target other personal skills.] ⌠…⌡ ⌠‘Personal Skill: Effort Always Pays Off Lv1’ has affected ‘Class: Cultivator - Rank A+’⌡ ⌠‘Class: Cultivator - Rank A+’ has temporarily reached its maximum potential!⌡