As Shíhou Qitian continued examining the game-like panel hovering in front of him, his expression twisted into a scowl.
"This shit's just a glorified spreadsheet. No shop. No stat points. No nothing. The hell is this?" he muttered, visibly frustrated, waving his hand through the useless interface as if that might change something.
Meanwhile, his conjured staff continued stretching skyward, lengthening slowly but surely. He'd made up his mind—the best way to survive was to get off the ground. Height was safety.
And he had risen.
Risen far beyond the towering stalks of wheat-colored grass, their scale more akin to skyscrapers than any field. What was once barely waist-high now formed an ocean of golden walls far below his elevated perch.
From this altitude, he could finally scout properly, his eyes narrowing as the wind swept past him. The view was surreal—rolling fields of giant wheat as far as the eye could see, their rustling movements hiding horrors beneath.
But using the staff came with a cost.
Time.
The staff wasn't permanent—it existed only for the duration of aura he had stored. A timer dictated its presence, and Shíhou Qitian had made a nen vow to enhance it: his Hatsu could only be summoned for a set amount of stored time. It was powerful—absurdly so—but the tradeoff was clear. He had to spend long periods in Zetsu, suppressing his aura completely to accumulate more. Thankfully, daily life didn't require power.
And so he had saved. And saved. And saved.
Over a year's worth of stillness now allowed him this moment.
But just as he settled, his thoughts froze.
In the far distance, a silhouette loomed—massive, black, and twisted like a sculpture made of spiraling metal and flesh. At first glance, it looked like a mountain hunched under the clouds. But closer inspection betrayed the truth.
It moved.
A giant humanoid—no, a godless thing—of obsidian muscle and writhing matter. It was beyond enormous—bigger than any building, bigger than a city. The size of an island, perhaps a small country. Its head tilted back lazily, and from the veil of clouds, Qitian could barely make out two hollow, sunken sockets where eyes should have been.
It scratched its chin with hands that dwarfed even hills.
Then, casually, it reached below the clouds—fingers plunging into the wheat-rife and plucking up a massive rodent.
Qitian's breath hitched.
The same species that had killed him before. But this one was different. It was missing an eye.
He watched, helpless, as the monstrous being lifted the twitching rodent to its jaw—a yawning spiral of endless, jagged teeth lining its throat like a meat grinder—and dropped it in.
Crunch. Gone.
Then, with the lazy grace of a titan stretching its limbs, the creature swung one of its arms sideways.
Toward him.
He had no time to react.
The staff—and Shíhou Qitian along with it—was struck like a bug on a windshield.
There was no pain. No clarity.
Just red. Blood. Mist. Oblivion.
[You have died.]
[A penalty will be applied: all sensory inputs increased x3.]
He reappeared instantly, right where he had been before—but now standing inside a shallow crater, the earth disturbed by the force of his previously expanding staff.
Without hesitation, he formed the familiar mudra with his fingers, summoning the conjured staff once again. It reappeared—intact. Not even a crack. Whatever struck him hadn't destroyed it—just obliterated him.
This time, he didn't climb as high. Just high enough to rise to the level of the wheat's upper canopy.
There, he stayed. Resting. Waiting. Every second precious, each one ticked off by the silent countdown of the timer.
Until the staff shuddered.
Something had struck it.
He glanced down—one of the grotesque rats. The thing had headbutted the base of his staff. Without hesitation, he surged aura into it, vastly increasing its weight.
The rat wasn't prepared.
It crashed into the now-heavy pillar, its bones crunching from the impact. But the blow didn't kill it. It simply shrieked and darted back into the shifting fields of wheat, vanishing from sight.
[22:37:23]
The timer ticked down.
But his heart skipped a beat.
From above—another arm descended. Immense, island-sized fingers plunged into the earth like a claw through soil. When it rose again, it brought with it a clump of land, shaking loose the dirt and plants—leaving only a handful of squirming rats in its grasp.
Their twitching skins shimmered with sickly movement.
The hand rose.
And vanished above the clouds.
Presumably devoured like the rest.
[You have contributed to a hunt. A reward will be issued.]
[Reward: 1 hour removed from quest timer.]
[21:37:18]