The Grand Awakening Hall of Jiangnan Third High smelled like ozone, unwashed gym uniforms, and the cheap, floral deodorant teenagers used to mask the scent of pure terror.

  Lin Jue stood in line, his palms sweating against the fabric of his trousers.

  Around him, the air hummed with residual energy—the chaotic mixture of aura and mana that had saturated Earth's atmosphere ever since the Dimensional Collapse fifty years ago.

  Every time the heavy door of the Resonance Chamber hissed open, a student walked out either crying tears of joy or looking like their soul had filed for early retirement.

  "Next! Number 402, Lin Jue!"

  Mr. Wang's voice cut through the murmurs like a whip crack.

  Lin Jue took a breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

  Just like the free tutorials on the Holo-Net promised would "unlock your hidden potential in thirty days or your money back."

  'This is it. The bottleneck.'

  His mind flashed to his mother. He thought of her hands, stained a permanent, sickly blue from the chemical dyes at the textile factory.

  She worked twelve-hour shifts, destroying her joints just to afford his generic nutrient tubes and the school fees that came with a "chance" at Awakening.

  If he failed today, those blue hands would keep working until they crippled completely. He would be assigned to Factory Sector C right beside her, breathing the same toxic fumes, dying the same slow death.

  'No. Not happening.'

  "Move it, Lin Jue," a voice sneered from behind him.

  Gao Hao leaned against a pillar, checking his expensive smartwatch—the kind with built-in mana circulation monitors. He had already

  Awakened last week during the private, early-access session his father's money could buy: C-Grade Flame Esper, with a minor body enhancement mutation. A golden ticket to a comfortable life in the Defense Corps, fighting monsters from a safe distance while lower-ranks died as cannon fodder.

  "Don't look so grim," Gao Hao said, loud enough for the girls nearby to hear. "Even if you fail, my dad's company is hiring. We always need people to... manage waste disposal. Very stable career. Thirty-year life expectancy, but stable."

  Lin Jue's expression didn't flicker.

  He plastered on a polite, customer-service smile—the kind that promised violence in twelve different languages but delivered none.

  "Thanks, Class Rep," Lin Jue said, his voice steady. "I'll keep your toilet-scrubbing offer in the 'Emergency' folder. Right next to 'Sell Kidney'." "Haha!" "Gao Hao always get's humbled!" Lin Jue may be poor but his trash talking skills were always one step above others, few chuckles rang out int the auditorium but was quickly interrupted by Mr.Wang stern voice. "Quiet, you brats! And you, get on we don't time!" Lin Jue turned and stepped onto the platform. The metal floor was freezing through his thin shoes. "Insert your hand," Mr. Wang droned, looking bored. "Don't move."

  "The scanner will measure your Resonance Index—your body's natural affinity for channelling external energy."

  Lin Jue shoved his hand into the sensor port. It felt like sticking his fingers into a bucket of ice water mixed with static electricity.

  He closed his eyes, waiting for the surge. He waited for the burning sensation of power—the genetic mutation that would let him enhance his body, or the spiritual awakening that would let him manipulate mana and aura.

  He waited.

  And waited.

  Beep.

  The machine let out a sound that could only be described as a digital fart—the kind a dying calculator makes right before it gives up on existence.

  [Resonance Index: 0.03%]

  [Awakening Status: NULL]

  [Classification: Non-Responsive]

  [Recommendation: Civilian Labor Assignment]

  The silence in the hall was absolute, thick enough to choke on. Then, a snicker started from the back row. Then another. Then, like a dam breaking, laughter.

  "Zero point three?" someone whispered, their voice dripping with disbelief. "That's lower than a lab rat. I didn't know the machine could even display that kind of number."

  "Isn't that technically impossible?" another student murmured. "You need at least 1% to be alive. How is he breathing?"

  Lin Jue stood frozen. The numbers on the screen burned into his retinas like a brand.

  'It's over.'

  The factory. The blue dye. The poverty. The slow death. It all came crashing down on him like a collapsing building. His knees felt weak. His lungs felt like they were wrapped in barbed wire.

  Mr. Wang sighed, the sound of a man who had seen this tragedy a thousand times and had stopped caring around the five hundredth.

  He tapped his clipboard with a stylus.

  "Lin Jue. Step down. Next."

  Lin Jue tried to move his legs, but they wouldn't obey. The shame was a physical weight, pressing the air out of his chest, crushing his spine into powder.

  He was trash. Confirmed, certified, digitally-verified trash.

  A genetic dead end.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Ping.

  A sound rang out. Not from the machine. Not from the room. From inside his head—sharp, clear, impossible to ignore.

  A translucent blue window, sharper than reality itself, flickered into existence in the top left corner of his vision.

  [System Booting...] [Host Detected: Emotional Entropy - CRITICAL LEVELS] [Welcome to the Ancestral Resonance System.] [I am ARIA.]

  Lin Jue blinked. Slowly. Carefully. He looked at Mr. Wang.

  The teacher didn't see the screen. He looked at Gao Hao. The rich brat was too busy smirking to notice Lin Jue's confusion.

  The blue window pulsed with text:

  [Quest Generated: The Show Must Go On] [Condition: Do not leave this stage in shame.]

  [Objective: Harvest 500 Distress Points from the audience within 60 seconds.] [Reward: 1x Ancestral World Descent Token (Trial Duration: 1 Hour)]

  [Time Limit: 60 seconds.]

  'Distress Points?'

  Lin Jue's brain, roaring like hell form the trash status immediately become interested in it.

  'I can walk off this stage and be a loser forever. Or... I can listen to the hallucination in my head and be a problem.'

  He looked at the laughing crowd. He looked at Gao Hao's smug face.

  Trash-talking wasn't a skill for Lin Jue. It was a birthright.

  It doesn't pay the rent. But apparently, this System does.

  Lin Jue didn't step down. Instead, he lifted his leg and kicked the million-credit Resonance Machine. Hard.

  CLANG!

  The metallic sound echoed through the hall like a gong struck by the fist of an angry god. The laughter died instantly, choked off mid-breath. Mr. Wang jumped, nearly dropping his clipboard. Even Gao Hao's smirk faltered.

  "Lin Jue!" Mr. Wang sputtered, his face turning an alarming shade of purple. "What are you doing?!"

  Lin Jue turned to the teacher, adjusting his shirt to hide his state of mind.

  "Sir," Lin Jue announced, his voice projecting to the back of the room with theatrical clarity, "this machine is clearly defective. It requires immediate recalibration and possibly a firmware patch. I recommend filing a maintenance request with the manufacturer."

  "Defective?!" Mr. Wang's voice cracked. "It's calibrated daily by the Federal Bureau of Awakening Standards! You just have zero talent! Accept reality!"

  "Zero?" Lin Jue scoffed, shaking his head twice with disappointment as if Mr.Wang was one spewing nonsense. "Sir, with all due respect to your excellent service record, I believe you're misinterpreting the data. This is clearly an Integer Overflow Error."

  The hall went quiet. Everyone looked confused, their brains struggling to process the sheer audacity of the statement.

  "An... integer overflow?" Mr. Wang repeated slowly, as if the words were in a foreign language.

  "Exactly," Lin Jue said, warming to his absurd lie. "You see, the machine's sensor array can only measure Resonance Index values up to 100%. When a subject's potential exceeds this maximum threshold, the system experiences a numerical overflow and loops back to zero. It's a well-documented software bug in legacy systems. Quite embarrassing for the manufacturer, really. I'm surprised the school hasn't upgraded to the Model-7 scanner. This Model-5 unit is practically archaeological."

  [System: Confusion +150 Points from Mr. Wang.]

  [System: Second hand Embarrassment +75 Points from Student A.]

  [System: Second hand Embarrassment +75 Points from Student B.]

  [System: Suppressed Laughter +50 Points from Student C.]

  For three glorious seconds, nobody spoke. The sheer magnitude of the lie had created a localized reality distortion field.

  Mr. Wang's face cycled through several colors—red, purple, a shade of crimson that suggested imminent stroke. "You... you..." His finger shook as he pointed at Lin Jue. "Get off the stage! NOW!"

  Lin Jue sighed, the picture of a misunderstood genius being persecuted by the establishment. He dusted off his shoulder casually.

  "Fine. I'll leave. But when the Federal Inspectors arrive to investigate why your equipment failed to detect an S-Class Awakening, don't say I didn't warn you." He paused for effect. "I'll be sure to mention your professionalism in my formal complaint."

  He walked down the stairs—not with his head down in shame, but with the confident stride of a CEO leaving a boardroom after closing a multi-billion credit deal.

  Gao Hao stepped into his path, blocking the exit. His face was twisted in fury and confusion. "You're delusional, Lin Jue. Integer overflow? Do you think we're idiots?"

  Lin Jue stopped. He looked Gao Hao up and down slowly, the way one might examine a particularly disappointing piece of fruit at a market stall.

  "I don't think you're an idiot, Gao Hao," Lin Jue said with infuriating sincerity. "I just think your C-Grade Flame Esper awakening is limiting your brain processing speed. It's a documented side effect—excessive yang energy can cloud judgment. It's not your fault. We can't all be blessed with high IQ."

  "You…You!"

  [System: Anger +250 Points from Gao Hao.]

  [System: Shock +150 Points from Crowd.] [Quest Complete: Total Harvest: 750 Points.]

  Lin Jue pushed past the stunned class rep and walked through the double doors, leaving chaos in his wake.

  The moment the heavy doors closed behind him, the "Showman" mask shattered like dropped glass.

  Lin Jue collapsed against the cool tile wall of the hallway, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped animal trying to claw its way out of his chest.

  His hands were shaking. His breath came in short, uneven gasps.

  'I just insulted a Federation-certified Instructor. I'm dead. I'm actually dead. They're going to expel me. Mom is going to kill me. Then the school is going to kill me. Then Gao Hao's dad is going to kill me a third time for good measure.'

  [Congratulations, Host.]

  The robotic, vaguely feminine voice echoed in his skull. It sounded bored, like a customer service AI reading from a script.

  [That performance was... adequate. Though your understanding of computer science is offensively inaccurate. Integer overflow doesn't work that way.]

  Lin Jue looked around the empty hallway, his breathing still ragged. "Who are you? What are you? Did I have a stress-induced psychotic break?"

  [I am ARIA. Ancestral Resonance Intelligence Assistant. I manage your Emotional Entropy and facilitate your access to the Ancestral Realms. Currently, I am also the only thing standing between you and a lifetime career in waste management.]

  A small, golden ticket materialized in the air in front of him, rotating slowly. It looked like an ancient movie stub, but it glowed with an otherworldly light that hurt to look at directly—like staring at the sun through a kaleidoscope.

  [Reward: Ancestral World Descent Token (Trial Duration: 1 Hour)]

  [Destination: Randomized Historical Parallel World]

  [Status: Ready for Activation]

  Lin Jue stared at the floating ticket. His brain, still running on panic mode, tried to process the information.

  "Ancestral World? You mean like... time travel?"

  [Not quite. These are parallel timelines—alternate versions of Earth's history where humans never experienced the Dimensional Collapse. They developed different power systems. Ancient cultivation. Lost martial arts. Spiritual techniques that modern humans have forgotten. You will descend into these worlds, learn their secrets, and return with knowledge that no longer exists on your Earth.]

  Lin Jue looked at his hands. They were still shaking, but not from fear anymore. From possibility.

  He thought of the 0.00% on the screen. He thought of his mom's blue hands. He thought of Gao Hao's sneer.

  "If I use this," Lin Jue whispered, his voice barely audible, "will I be strong enough to make them shut up?"

  [Host, if you use this correctly, you won't just make them shut up.]

  ARIA's voice dropped an octave, sounding almost amused.

  [You'll make them kneel.]

  Lin Jue reached out with trembling fingers. His hand brushed the cold light of the ticket. It felt solid and insubstantial at the same time, like touching frozen electricity.

  "What do I do?"

  [Focus your intent. Will the activation. The descent process will handle the rest. One hour in the Ancestral World equals one second on your Earth. Time dilation is automatic. Try not to die—resurrection is not covered in the trial package.]

  Lin Jue closed his eyes. He focused on the ticket, on the promise of power, on the desperate need to be something more than trash.

  'Activate.'

  The world tilted.

  The smell of floor cleaner vanished, replaced by something ancient—incense, old paper, and the sharp metallic tang of blood. His body felt like it was being pulled through a collapsing tunnel of light and sound.

  And then, darkness.

  [Descent Successful.]

  [Welcome to: The Heavenly Martial Realm] [Historical Period: Ancient China - Warring States Era]

  [Good luck, Host. You're going to need it.]