Le Wei clutched the dusty old book like it was a baby made of secrets. Ugly secrets. Dangerous secrets. Possibly chicken-flavored secrets.
First order of business: Get rid of the cursed poultry bling hanging around his neck.
With a grimace and a dramatic "Ughhh!", he yanked the featherless rope from his shoulders and yeeted Clucknor into a nearby chair.
The chicken gave one last squawk of betrayal, like an opera singer being booted off stage.
Good riddance.
Le Wei turned to leave the crumbling tower with the confidence of a man who just fooled an entire society of dusty weirdos into giving him sacred knowledge.
"You must return the book, mister!" Zhao Pung called after him, waving his arms like a distressed auntie.
"Sure," Le Wei replied flatly, not looking back.
Return it? Please. He wasn't planning to eat the thing. Yet. Besides, where would he even go? They were all stuck on this damp rock of an island like spiritual castaways with trust issues.
No one actually worried he'd run off with it.
The real reason? The Synagogue believed the book to be indestructible. Divine. Eternal. Blessed by the spit of a cosmic llama or something.
Stupid.
"At least tell us your name, young man!"
Le Wei hesitated. "Huh… Le… Le Wei."
It wasn't a lie. It also wasn't something he liked saying aloud anymore.
He broke into a brisk jog, clutching the book to his chest like a socially anxious gremlin.
His plan was simple: go home, open the book, and maybe find something useful. Or at the very least, something less humiliating than chicken chants and dust poetry.
But fate had other ideas.
Because of course it did.
Halfway down the trail, a voice stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Le… how're you doing now, my son?"
He turned slowly. Like a man opening a cursed box he knows contains spiders.
Madam Youlan stood beside a crooked fence, her apron dusted in herbs, ashes, and....was that glitter?
She gave him the kind of smile you reserve for people you're legally obligated to like.
"I'm… fine," Le Wei muttered. "I guess."
"You look pale."
"I was attacked by poultry."
"Young people always with your jokes! But you must take your herbs! Herbs are life! Herbs are joy!"
Her eyes sparkled dangerously.
This woman made the herbal brew last night. The one that nearly melted Old Ren's tongue. She claimed it cured fatigue. It mostly smelled like failed marriages.
"I'll take some later," Le Wei lied expertly.
"Good! I'll bring more tonight."
"Great," he said in the tone of someone who just agreed to be buried alive.
Then she launched into a five-minute story about a dream she had involving a goat, her late husband, and a cabbage conspiracy.
Le Wei nodded like a bobblehead on life support until she finally waved goodbye and waddled off.
"Freedom at last," he muttered.
But just as he turned the corner
WHUMP!!
He collided with a cloaked figure. A girl.
Both of them staggered. The impact knocked her hood down.
"Oh..sorry..I.."
She had long black hair, and the air of someone who'd beat you in chess while pretending not to know how the pieces moved. Her hair was black, long, and messy in the perfect kind of way that said "I woke up and didn't try too hard, but still look better than your life choices." Her eyes were sharp, amber-toned, and for a brief second, they locked with his.
You know that anime moment when two characters just know something's about to happen?
Yeah. That happened
Her face was calm, unreadable...but her eyes said: I am not impressed.
Le Wei blinked.
She blinked.
And for three seconds, the world stood still.
Then, with ninja-level speed, she yanked her hood back up and practically teleported away from him like he had just declared he didn't like cats.
"…Weird," Le Wei muttered, brushing off imaginary dust. He gave one last glance over his shoulder.
She didn't look back.
Typical.
Home at last.
His hut was as ugly and smelly as ever. A solid four out of ten on the Real Estate Deathtrap Index. But it was his. And no chickens lived in it. That was a win.
Then came the sound.
A cough.
The unmistakable groan of bones that hadn't been oiled since the last dynasty.
"Where do you think you've been?" came the accusing growl.
Old Ren appeared in the doorway like a half-mummified raisin in a robe.
His beard was white, tangled, and probably home to one or two squirrels. His eyes squinted with judgment refined over eight years of complaining.
"You left before drinking your herb!"
"Oh, that. Yeah… I decided I didn't want to explode."
"It's a healing brew!"
"It smells like rotten snails, Ren."
"That's how you know it works!"
Le Wei dropped his shoes by the door like peace offerings. "I'll drink it later."
Ren hobbled after him like a ghost powered by caffeine. "You youngsters want explosions and glory, not bitter tea and good posture! You think you're too good for herbal foot soaks! Back in my day, we chewed the bark straight from the tree!"
Le Wei put a hand to his forehead. "Is this a scolding or a TED Talk?"
Ren ignored him, still muttering. "Spiritual enlightenment takes suffering! I once fasted for fourteen days to reach my core senses!"
"You also hallucinated a yak god who told you to stop eating frogs."
"And I listened! Changed my life!"
Le Wei stopped, spun on one foot, and put a hand dramatically over his heart.
"I just had a very serious poultry experience, old man. I need time."
Ren squinted. "You wearing perfume? Smells like wet feathers."
"Don't ask."
Le Wei escaped to the back garden mid-rant. Ren shouted something about "kids these days," but his bones gave up before his lungs did.
The garden was small and messy, but it was his sanctuary. No chanting weirdos. No suspicious teas. No chickens.
Le Wei flopped under his favorite shrub...short, bent, and deeply judgmental-looking. A tree after his own heart.
He stared at the book.
It stared back.
He gave it a theatrical look. "Alright, you moldy rectangle. Let's see what you're hiding."
He opened the first page carefully.
No explosion. Good start.
The words shimmered faintly.
Symbols floated like they were stuck between languages.
One drawing showed a guy being kicked in the soul by a flaming duck.
"...Huh."
Then he saw the heading:
THE WORLD'S GREAT ENERGY SYSTEMS (FORBIDDEN AND GRANTED ABILITIES
Le Wei blinked.
Forbidden? System?
That sounded like power.
That sounded like trouble.
That sounded like exactly his kind of mess.
He flipped the page.
And began to read.
The garden was quiet..except for Ren yelling somewhere inside about boiled lizard powder.
But Le Wei didn't hear him anymore.
Because the book had finally opened.
And so had something else.
Something... ridiculous.
Something dangerous.
Something fun.
.....this was getting interesting.