The moon hung like a silver disk, stars scattered across the sky.
Atop a cliff, int a lay sprawled on the grass, a blade of codeweed between his lips, chewing lightly, letting its faint bitterness spread in his mouth...
Raising a slightly pale hand, he shielded his eyes, gazing through his fingers at the vast silver moon in the sky.
"Sigh..." Thinking of the afternoon's test, int a let out a soft sigh, lazily withdrawing his hand and resting it behind his head, his eyes dazed.
"Fifteen years..." A low murmur slipped from the boy's lips, seemingly out of nowhere.
In int a's heart lay a secret known only to him: he was not of this world. Or rather, his soul did not belong here. He came from a place called Earth, a blue planet. As for how he ended up here, that bizarre event was beyond his explanation. After living here for a time, he gradually came to a realization: he had transmigrated!
As he grew older, int a gained a vague understanding of this continent...
It was called the Code Continent, a place devoid of the flashy, intricate magic found in stories. Here, memory and instructions were the sole melody!
On this continent, the cultivation of code had, through countless generations, reached its peak. Due to the relentless evolution of code, it had spread even to the common folk, becoming inseparable from daily life. Thus, code's importance in the continent was irreplaceable!
With the proliferation of code, countless branches of cultivation methods emerged. As with all things, these methods varied in strength.
After careful classification, the Code Continent ranked its cultivation techniques into four tiers, from high to low: System, Framework, Module, and Script!
Each tier was further divided into three levels: High, Middle, and Low!
The level of a cultivation technique determined one's future achievements. For instance, someone practicing a Module-tier Middle-level technique would naturally outshine a peer practicing a Script-tier High-level technique.
On the Code Continent, strength was judged by three factors.
First and foremost was one's own power. If your internal force was only at the mortal level of the stack area, even mastering a System-tier High-level technique wouldn't let you defeat a pointer knight practicing a Script-tier technique.
Second was the cultivation technique! Among peers of equal strength, if your technique was of a higher tier, your advantages would be clear in any contest.
The final factor was called Code Arts!
As the name suggests, these were special skills to unleash the power of code. Code Arts were also graded into four tiers: System, Framework, Module, and Script.
The Code Continent was brimming with countless Code Arts, but common ones were mostly Script-tier. To obtain higher-level Code Arts, one had to join a sect or enroll in one of the continent's Code Academies.
Of course, some fortunate souls stumbled upon ancient techniques left by predecessors or had Code Arts tailored to their cultivation methods. When paired, these arts and techniques unleashed even greater power.
These three factors determined strength. Possessing a high-tier cultivation technique naturally promised greater future rewards...
However, high-tier cultivation techniques were rare for ordinary people. Common techniques were mostly Script-tier, while powerful clans or mid-sized sects might possess Module-tier methods. For example, the top technique in int a's village was accessible only to the village elder: "Dynamic Array Fury," a memory-efficient Module-tier Middle-level technique.
Above Module-tier was Framework-tier, but such advanced techniques were likely held only by grand factions or vast empires...
As for System-tier... none had appeared in centuries.
In theory, acquiring high-tier techniques was nearly impossible for common folk. Yet, nothing was absolute. The Code Continent was vast, home to myriad tribes. In the north lived the Bitwise Clan, known for their brute computational power and ability to merge with machine spirits. In the south roamed intelligent high-level algorithm beasts. There were also the shadowy Debugging Clans, notorious for their cunning and ruthless efficiency...
Given the continent's vastness, many reclusive coders hid their techniques in obscure places at life's end, waiting for destined successors. A saying circulated in the Code Continent: "If one day you fall off a cliff and land in a hidden cache, don't panic—take two steps forward, and you might become a master!"
This wasn't mere legend. Over the past millennium, stories abounded of those who rose to greatness through such fortunate encounters.
This belief led to throngs of dreamers lingering at cliff edges, hoping to leap into greatness and uncover supreme techniques. Most, however, returned with nothing but broken pointers...
In short, this was a continent of miracles, where miracles were made!
To cultivate high-tier code techniques, one had to at least become a true pointer knight. For now, int a was still far from that threshold...
"Pfft." Spitting out the codeweed, int a suddenly leapt up, his face contorted as he roared at the night sky, "Damn it! Did you drag me here just to be a useless variable? Damn it!"
In his past life, int a was an utterly ordinary soul on Earth. Wealth, fame—those were parallel lines, never crossing his path. But upon arriving in the Code Continent, he was thrilled to discover that, thanks to his dual-life experience, his soul was far stronger than most!
In the Code Continent, souls were innate. They might grow slightly stronger with age, but no technique could train the soul alone—not even System-tier techniques! This was common knowledge.
His fortified soul gave int a extraordinary cultivation talent, earning him the title of genius.
For an ordinary person suddenly gifted with the potential to shine, maintaining humility was no easy task. In his past life, int a lacked such resolve. So, when he began cultivating internal force, he chose the path of a celebrated genius rather than quiet growth.
Had no mishaps occurred, int a might have grown into his genius title. But at eleven, tragedy struck. His genius label was stripped away, and he became the village's laughingstock—a "useless variable" in their mouths!
...
After venting his frustration, int a's emotions calmed. His face returned to its usual dejection. No matter how he raged, he couldn't reclaim the internal force he'd painstakingly cultivated.
With a bitter shake of his head, int a felt a pang of injustice. He had no idea what had happened to his body. Routine checks revealed nothing amiss. His soul grew stronger with age, and his ability to absorb internal force was even greater than at his peak years ago. Yet, the internal force he absorbed vanished without a trace, leaving him desolate...
Sighing heavily, int a lifted his hand. On his finger was a plain black ring, etched with faint, blurry patterns. Made of unknown material, it was the only keepsake from his mother, worn since he was four. His attachment to it was deep. Stroking the ring gently, he gave a wry smile. "These past years, I've really let you down, Mother..."
With a deep breath, int a turned, smiling warmly into the dark forest. "Father, you're here?"
Though his internal force was meager, int a's soul perception was sharper than that of a five-star pointer knight. When he mentioned his mother, he'd sensed a faint rustle in the woods.
"Heh, little a, why are you still up here so late?" After a pause, a man's concerned chuckle came from the forest.
Branches swayed, and a middle-aged man stepped out, smiling as he gazed at his son bathed in moonlight.
Dressed in fine gray robes, the man carried an air of authority, his bold brows adding to his commanding presence. He was the elder of Zhan District Village and int a's father, a five-star structure master, const int* elder!
"Father, aren't you up late too?" Seeing the man, int a's smile warmed. Despite his past-life memories, this father had showered him with love since birth. Even after his fall, that love only grew, earning int a's heartfelt respect.
"Still thinking about the afternoon test?" Striding forward, the elder chuckled.
"Heh, what's there to think about? It was expected." Int a shook his head, mature beyond his years, though his smile was forced.
"Sigh..." Looking at int a's youthful yet weary face, the elder sighed. After a moment's silence, he said, "Little a, you're fifteen, right?"
"Yes, Father."
"One more year, and... it'll be time for the coming-of-age ceremony..." The elder gave a bitter smile.
"Yes, Father, one year left!" Int a's hand tightened, but his voice remained calm. He knew what the ceremony meant. If he passed, he could continue cultivating. If not, he'd lose the chance to access the village's Code Archives and be assigned to manage mundane village tasks. This was the village rule—even his father, the elder, couldn't change it!
After all, if one couldn't become a pointer knight by twenty-five, the village wouldn't recognize them!
"I'm sorry, little a. If your internal force doesn't reach fifty points in a year, I'll have no choice but to assign you to village duties. This isn't just my decision—those old coders are waiting for me to slip up..." Looking at int a's calm face, the elder sighed with guilt.
"Father, I'll try my best. In one year, I'll reach fifty points!" Int a1 smiled, comforting his father.
"One year, forty points? Heh, maybe in the past, but now... there's no chance..." Though he reassured his father, int a's heart held a bitter laugh.
The elder, knowing his son's situation, could only sigh in response. Patting int a's head, he suddenly grinned. "It's late. Head back and rest. Tomorrow, we have an important guest—don't be rude."
"An important guest? Who?" Int a asked curiously.
"You'll see tomorrow." Winking at int a, the elder laughed and walked off, leaving int a shaking his head helplessly.
"Don't worry, Father. I'll do my best!" Stroking the plain ring on his finger, int a murmured to the sky.
As he looked up, the black ring on his finger flickered with a faint, eerie glow, vanishing so quickly no one noticed...
(To be continued)