Chapter 8: Visual Noise
The door had barely stopped shaking when silence dropped like a curtain.
Zack didn't move. Not right away. The landlord's voice still echoed in the corners of the cramped room, venom laced with final warnings. But it wasn't the shouting that lingered—it was the quiet that came after. That heavy, suffocating quiet. The kind you could drown in.
He turned his head slowly, eyes drifting to the grimy ceiling. A crack ran through it like a scar. He didn't even know how long it had been there. Maybe it always was. Maybe he was just too damn tired to notice until now.
He sighed, dragging a hand over his face.
Is she still out there?
His thoughts wandered to his sister. She had vanished into the 2nd Layer of the Holy Domains three days ago. No word. No call. Just gone.
The 2nd Layer wasn't a place you walked into casually. It was wild, brutal, and crawling with high-tier spirit beasts that could rip you apart just for breathing wrong. And yet, she'd gone anyway. She always did.
And maybe that was what scared him most—how normal it had become to gamble your life just to keep living.
Zack forced himself upright, the mattress groaning beneath his weight. The room was cold. The kind of cold that seeped in through the bones and whispered that maybe… just maybe… you weren't supposed to be here.
He had classes today.
And he didn't care.
But school wasn't optional. Not for people like him. You either went, or they cut your rations. Cut your training slots. Cut your future.
So he moved.
Dragging his body across the room, Zack grabbed his torn uniform and slipped it on. The sleeves were too tight now—he was growing again. Probably a side effect from all the damn spirit energy in his veins. He hadn't stopped feeling hungry since that day in the Holy Domains.
That damn Carbee…
He exhaled sharply. Not now. There was something else.
He sat back down and let his eyes glaze over, sinking into the interface that now lived inside his head.
A flash of pale blue light swept across his vision.
The [Spirit System 2.0] unfolded like a blooming flower, etched in floating characters and wireframe geometry. It didn't speak this time—no voice, no hum. Just clean visuals, hovering in the air in front of his eyes, overlaid perfectly with the real world.
Even now, after all the crap he'd been through, it still sent chills crawling up his neck.
The system used to be nothing but a monotone voice that spat out Spirit Point numbers and quest updates. But ever since the mod… everything had changed.
It had become something else.
Smarter. Sharper.
And a hell of a lot more invasive.
Zack focused his thoughts, and the familiar blue interface obeyed.
[Status]
[Zack Tennyson]
Lifespan: 200 years
Bronze Spirit Points: 100 / 100
Silver Spirit Points: 68 / 100
Gold Spirit Points: 0 / 100
Platinum Spirit Points: 10 / 100
[Mod Stats]
Luck: 5
Charm: N/A
Intelligence: 10
Perception: 5
Bravery: 5
Stealth: 10
Extra Mod Points: 0
[Daily Quest – In Progress]
[Beginner Body Training – Day 1]
Complete before 12:00 AM or face punishment.
100 Pushups
100 Situps
Run 3km
[Reward: +1 Extra Mod Point]
Zack stared at the glowing numbers in silence.
Two hundred years.
It still didn't feel real.
Most people didn't even make it past sixty anymore—not unless they were strong. Not unless they were lucky. And here he was, with a lifespan capped at two centuries, as if fate was trying to be generous.
But what's the point of living that long… if you're just crawling through it?
He closed the window with a flick of thought, the interface vanishing in a ripple of light.
The room felt even darker now. Quieter.
He wasn't sure if the system upgrade was a blessing or a curse. The voice still whispered sometimes. A faint echo at the back of his mind.
[I'm system.]
It said that once, during the first install. Cold. Detached. Like it wasn't meant for him—like it wasn't even human.
Whatever that orb had done, it didn't just hack the Spirit System.
It rewrote it.
Now it could see things it shouldn't. Show stats no one was supposed to have. It could even calculate emotions… Zack was sure of it. The longer he stared into the interface, the more it stared back.
He rubbed his eyes.
He needed to move. To get out. To breathe.
Even if school was hell, it was better than staying locked in this sinking coffin of a room.
Zack grabbed his pack and slung it over one shoulder. His limbs ached with the memory of yesterday's punishment training. He hadn't even finished the quest yet—not fully. The run was still waiting. Waiting like a blade at his back.