Chapter One: This Is Not a Game

The wind, carrying a putrid stench, blew ceaselessly. In the shadowy corner where moonlight could not reach, a handful of stray dogs rummaged through a towering mountain of garbage, searching for tonight’s meal. Occasionally, the wind would pick up bits of trash, hurling them against the ancient, dilapidated city wall nearby, producing a cacophony of metallic clinks.

Suddenly, faint groans emerged from the furthest corner of the rubbish heap. A young man in his twenties, gritting his teeth, clawed his way out from beneath the trash.

He looked utterly disheveled; his face bore several wounds, their origins unknown. His thick black hair appeared as though it had been scorched, and his clothes, shredded beyond recognition, barely concealed his muscular frame. Yet the pallor, tinged with blue, of his skin revealed the severity of his blood loss.

Barely escaping the main pile, he managed to turn over, half-reclining against a greasy heap of metal scraps, gazing up at the sky.

After a long while, he spat out blood-tinged saliva, his voice weak and cold as he muttered, “Damn it. This isn’t a game.”

Perhaps his movements were too vigorous, or perhaps the garbage heap had long since been hollowed out. The pile of metal parts supporting him soon gave way with a creak, collapsing with a loud crash.

The young man, just barely free from the garbage, fell once more into the trash. The noise drew the attention of nearby creatures.

From not far away, came the sound of something slithering across the ground. The dogs, who had been scavenging nearby, whimpered and fled hurriedly in the opposite direction.

The young man sensed danger instinctively. As he tried to rise from the metal debris, a pair of eyes, bright as searchlights, swept over him.

Without hesitation, he stretched both hands to his sides. A purple light flickered between his palms. In his right hand, a bone-white scythe as tall as a man materialized; in his left, a shield formed from interlocked bones appeared. Armed, he finally looked toward the source of the gleaming eyes.

He now saw clearly the creature before him—a monstrous, gigantic serpent.

Its size dwarfed even the largest anaconda, as though magnified tenfold. Its head, crafted from an assortment of electrical appliances, formed a triangle, with two enormous car headlights installed in place of eyes.

The serpent’s body was rotting; in some places, bone showed through, in others, pale green decaying flesh hung loosely, and elsewhere, it was patched together with electrical parts and fragments.

[Broken Rust-Crazed Python]

[Race: Half-Undead, Half-Mechanized Creature]

[Level: Lv1 (7 stars)]

[Attributes: Strength 9, Agility 8, Constitution 6, Spirit 2]

[Description: Once a dominant predator in a primeval forest, abandoned in the garbage heap after death. The resentment from being killed during mating led it to assimilate with the appliances amidst the trash, becoming the overlord of the garbage mountain...]

As this familiar stream of data flashed before his eyes, the young man tensed. He knew this was his target. Without a second thought, he raised his left hand, brandishing the shield before himself, and his right hand sent a red beam skyward.

The instant the red light shot forth, a voice sounded in his ear: “Bait 157, target found. Attack with full force.”

As soon as the words faded, a white flash streaked past him. A silver spear struck the Rust-Crazed Python, hurling its body aside with brutal force.

Then, more than a dozen chains wreathed in black mist shot out from all directions, tightly binding the python.

Following the direction of the chains, one could see each chain anchored to a deep crimson coffin.

[Spirit-Suppressing Vermilion Coffin]

[Race: Undead]

[Level: Lv1 (3 stars)]

[Attributes: Strength 5, Agility 5, Constitution 10, Spirit 0]

[Description: A coffin buried for a hundred years in a place of extreme Yin, never decaying. After soaking in fresh blood, it gained some undead power, able to absorb and release Yin energy. The ideal material for restraining uncontrollable undead...]

Once bound by the chains, the Rust-Crazed Python’s movements slowed greatly, its body emitting a series of grating mechanical sounds as it writhed.

It was clear the python strove fiercely to shake off the chains, but no matter how it twisted, it could not budge them or the coffin.

At that moment, a figure in black robes approached at a measured pace. With every step, a skeletal arm emerged beneath his feet, creating a clean and level path.

Soon, the black-robed man stood before the python. Sensing something, the serpent thrashed with renewed intensity, its headlamps flashing wildly as if trying to evade some unseen force.

The black-robed man paused, chuckled darkly, and extended his right hand, bony and desiccated, directly toward the python. Purple electricity crackled from his fingertip and shot into the creature.

Instantly, the python’s body glowed with purple light. Countless shards of appliances flew from its writhing form; its headlamps exploded; the fragments and components embedded in its body began to fuse anew, gradually covering its surface.

In moments, the serpent was transformed. The decaying flesh vanished entirely, its bones concealed beneath fused machinery. Now it resembled a skeletal python assembled from metal parts, no longer the chaotic monster it once was.

The black-robed man pointed again. Bathed in purple light, the python rapidly shrank, finally condensing into a card that dropped into his palm.

The young man, stunned beside him, saw clearly the card’s appearance—it bore the image of the python’s final form, with seven empty stars at the top. On the reverse, its attributes and description were written.

Stowing the card in a black leather book, the black-robed man turned to the youth.

“You did well this time. Next time, if there’s a similar job, I’ll come to you.”

The young man, still at a loss for words, was about to speak when the black-robed man extended his right hand, producing a card before his eyes. At the top was the image of a jar of mercury; on the back, it read [Magic Mercury*1].

“This is the reward I promised you—one unit of magic mercury.”

Without waiting for the young man to check it, the black-robed man departed as swiftly as he had arrived.

After walking about a hundred meters, he seemed to remember something, and called out loudly, “Nicely done, but don’t waste your energy on impractical things. DS-54370681-157, you must understand—this is not a game.”