The air in Neo-Suzhou hummed, a constant thrum beneath the symphony of maglev trains whispering overhead and the neon pulse of holographic advertisements dancing across towering skyscrapers. Down in the canyon-like streets, amidst the river of commuters in sleek, self-adjusting synth-fabric suits, Hu ZhiXin felt less like a participant and more like flotsam caught in the current.
He was undeniably handsome – sharp, intelligent eyes the color of dark jade beneath well-defined brows, high cheekbones framing a face that would look perfectly at home on a classical ink painting, albeit one rendered in high-definition. His jawline was strong, his build lean beneath his standard-issue grey corporate tunic. Yet, an aura of profound weariness clung to him, a subtle slump in his shoulders that made him seem smaller than he was. He moved with the careful, almost apologetic steps of someone perpetually braced for the next minor disaster. A "Level 1 NPC in his own life," he sometimes thought bitterly, watching the confident, augmented elites stride past, their neural interfaces glowing faintly at their temples, projecting subtle auras of status or skill.
Today's disaster was the Cross-Harbour Maglev. A cascading system failure had gridlocked the entire Eastern Transit Hub. ZhiXin, already late for his data-entry shift at "Celestial Byte Logistics," was pressed against a vibrating barrier wall, sweat beading on his forehead despite the climate control. The air crackled with frustration and the ozone tang of overloaded systems. A burly man in an industrial exo-frame jostled him hard, sending him stumbling into a flickering holographic ad for synthetic baozi.
"Watch it, twig!" the man grunted, not even looking back.
ZhiXin mumbled an apology, his cheeks flushing. He felt the familiar, crushing weight of helplessness. He was smart, diligent, but in this hyper-competitive, skill-driven world, his basic neural implant offered little beyond basic AR navigation and comms. He had no combat augments, no financial analysis subroutines, not even the popular "Social Lubricant" charm module. He was baseline. Ordinary. Weak.
Just get through the day, he chanted internally, trying to shrink further. Just survive.
Suddenly, the world stuttered.
It wasn't a physical tremor, but a sensory one. The chaotic noise of the crowd, the flickering ads, the oppressive thrum of the station – it all fragmented into jagged shards of light and sound for a single, disorienting heartbeat. A searing pain, sharp and electric, lanced through ZhiXin's temple, right where his neural interface port sat. He gasped, clutching his head, vision swimming.
Before him, superimposed onto the chaotic real world with impossible clarity, shimmering characters materialized in elegant, archaic Chinese script, edged in impossible gold light:
System Initialization Detected...
User: Hu ZhiXin | Designation: [Paradox Anomaly - Pending]
Core Protocol: [Heaven's Mandate Override - Beta] Activated.
Error... Error... Legacy Constraints Bypassed...
...
...
...
Welcome, User Hu ZhiXin.
ZhiXin blinked rapidly, his heart hammering against his ribs. The pain vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a strange, resonant hum deep within his bones. The shimmering characters remained, cool and detached against the backdrop of panicked commuters.
What... what is this? Some kind of corporate adware glitch? A hack? He tried to dismiss it with a standard neural command. Nothing happened. The interface persisted.
Then, new text scrolled:
Initial Skill Unlocked: [Omniscient Gaze - Lvl. 1]
Passive Effect: Perceive core attributes and immediate intent of designated targets within 5 meters.
Activation: Focus. Will it.
ZhiXin stared, bewildered. Perceive intent? Hesitantly, his jade-green eyes darted towards the burly man who had shoved him, now arguing loudly with a transit drone. He focused, a silent command echoing in his mind: Show me.
Instantly, translucent golden text appeared above the man's head, visible only to ZhiXin:
Name: Lao Chen
Vitality: 23/30 (Minor Fatigue)
Primary Skill: [Exo-Frame Proficiency - Lvl. 4]
Immediate Intent: [Demand compensation for delayed shipment. Intimidation Tactics Active.]
ZhiXin's breath hitched. He could see it. Not just the man's name, but his state, his skill level, his current aggressive purpose. It was intrusive, overwhelming... and utterly fascinating. He shifted his gaze to a harried-looking woman trying to soothe a crying child:
Name: Li Mei
Vitality: 18/25 (High Stress)
Primary Skill: [Rapid Cognitive Calibration - Lvl. 2]
Immediate Intent: [Soothe child. Find alternate route. Suppress panic.]
A wave of unexpected empathy washed over him, mixed with the sheer shock of the power. This wasn't just data. This was insight.
Another jostle, harder this time. A pickpocket, fingers nimble and fast, targeted ZhiXin's comm-unit pouch. Before, ZhiXin would have been oblivious until it was too late. Now, as he instinctively turned, his [Omniscient Gaze] flared:
Name: "Rat" (Alias)
Vitality: 28/30
Primary Skill: [Sleight of Hand - Lvl. 5]
Immediate Intent: [Acquire comm-unit. Evade detection. Disappear into crowd.]
Time seemed to slow. ZhiXin didn't think; he reacted. He shifted his weight, a subtle movement learned from years of avoiding bigger obstacles, causing the pickpocket's deft fingers to snag only air. Their eyes met for a split second – the thief's widening in surprise at the unexpected evasion, ZhiXin's own reflecting a dawning, steely calm that hadn't been there moments before.
The thief melted back into the crowd, seeking easier prey. ZhiXin stood straighter, the crushing weight momentarily lifted. The chaotic station noise faded slightly, replaced by the resonant hum within him and the shimmering golden interface.
He looked around, not with the defeated gaze of Hu ZhiXin the data-entry clerk, but with the focused intensity of someone seeing the hidden layers of the world for the first time. Information flowed around him like a visible river – intentions, skills, vulnerabilities. The handsome features, previously marked by weariness, now held a spark of bewildered, dangerous potential.
This wasn't a glitch. This was a key. And Hu ZhiXin, the perpetual Level 1 NPC, had just unlocked his first, terrifyingly overpowered skill. The normal, daily rhythm of Neo-Suzhou continued its relentless pulse, utterly unaware that the system, for one man at least, had just been irrevocably hacked. The journey from weak to... whatever came next, had begun.