Fang Yuqing kept her head tilted back, gazing blankly at Yuan Wu by her side. Within her, the spiritual energy was still churning, being consumed at a steady, rhythmic pace. The sensation of being tethered by the soul-contract was so vivid it made her realize, for the first time, what a UR truly represented. It wasn't just "strength"—it was a presence that seemed to weigh down the very fabric of the world.
Has he... already sensed the eyes lurking in the darkness?
The thought barely surfaced before she forced it down. Her heart was still drumming a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Every time she looked at the prismatic "UR" icon flickering above his white hair, a shiver ran down her spine. With Yuan Wu standing there, she felt an inexplicable, grounding sense of security, yet also a terrifying realization: she had just tethered her soul to a nuclear disaster in human form.
"We shouldn't stay here," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the ringing in her ears. She quickly gathered her scattered emotions, pulling her dignity back around her like a cloak. She turned and began to lead Yuan Wu away from the summoning plaza.
The crowd parted instinctively, like the Red Sea before a prophet. There was no need for words or gestures; the sheer pressure radiating from Yuan Wu forced them back. Countless gazes intersected—shock from the teachers, venomous jealousy from the students, and the naked, dark greed of the scouts lurking in the shadows. Yet, despite the hunger in their eyes, not a single person dared to step forward. To stand in his path felt like standing before an approaching storm.
Yuan Wu walked a half-step behind her. His white hair swayed slightly with each movement, looking like shards of moonlight cutting through the fabric of the night. His pace wasn't fast, yet it was exceptionally stable. With every step he took, it felt as though he were silently recalibrating the "center of gravity" of the space around them. It wasn't a deliberate display of pressure; it was simply that his existence itself was warping the environment to accommodate his power.
It wasn't until they reached the academy's elite residential district—stopping before a secluded, luxury villa standing silently in the night—that Fang Yuqing finally let out a true sigh of relief. The villa was a reward for her top-tier entrance results, a fortress of glass and reinforced stone surrounded by high-grade spirit-warding arrays.
"Safe... we're safe for now," she murmured, her shoulders finally slumping as the front gates hummed shut behind them.
Yuan Wu swept his cold, heterochromatic eyes over the villa. He took in the sleek architecture, the manicured gardens, and the expensive spiritual arrays glowing faintly in the dark.
"You're quite wealthy," he remarked, his tone flat and clinical. He paused for a beat, his gaze returning to her. "It seems the person I contracted with is a decent resource provider."
His tone didn't sound like a tease; it sounded like he was stating a cold, logistical fact, as if he were evaluating a battery pack. Fang Yuqing's face flushed a deep crimson instantly.
"What do you mean 'resource provider'?! I'm a Spirit-Master! And I'm your Master!"
But her embarrassment was quickly overtaken by a surge of manic excitement. Now that they were behind closed doors, she couldn't contain herself. She began jogging in little circles around Yuan Wu, her eyes glowing with the intensity of a researcher who had just discovered a new species. She even pulled out her phone, the shutter clicking incessantly as she took photos from every angle.
"It's really a UR... I actually contracted a UR..." she whispered to herself, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and disbelief. "Wait until the clan finds out... no, I can't let them know everything yet. This is too big."
Yuan Wu ignored her frantic energy and stepped into the villa. As the door swung open, the warm, golden indoor lighting spilled over him, highlighting the moon-white of his hair and casting deep, angular shadows over the edges of his ghoul mask.
He didn't sit down. He stood in the center of the vast, open-plan living room, slowly surveying the surroundings. His head moved with a slow, predatory grace. He was "reading" the space—checking the exits, evaluating the thickness of the walls, and sensing the spiritual flow of the room. He wasn't looking for comfort; he was confirming whether this place possessed "survival value."
When he finally chose to sit, the movement was light, yet the heavy leather sofa dipped deeply beneath his frame. It felt less like he was adapting to the furniture and more like the space was being forced to accept his presence.
"I didn't realize you held such high status in this little academy," he remarked, his voice muffled slightly by the mask but still carrying that chilling authority.
Looking at him, Fang Yuqing felt a sudden, jarring sense of unreality. This man... just an hour ago, he was a "trash R-card" that everyone was laughing at. Now, sitting in her living room, he looked like a king who had deigned to visit a peasant's hut.
Yuan Wu's hand moved, his long, slender fingers accidentally brushing against a limited-edition hand-painted figurine on the coffee table. Clack. It wobbled precariously on its base. Fang Yuqing's eye twitched with a mix of fear and maternal protectiveness over her hobby.
"That... that's my favorite one..." she squeaked.
Yuan Wu didn't apologize. He didn't even look at the figurine. "It was placed too low," he said coldly. "In a real fight, it would be the first thing to shatter. It's a tactical obstruction."
He leaned back into the sofa, his posture relaxed, yet entirely devoid of openings. It was an extremely dangerous kind of "stillness"—the kind of quiet that precedes a landslide. Fang Yuqing realized then that even while "relaxing," he was ready to kill.
"What do you like most?" he suddenly asked, the question coming out of nowhere.
Fang Yuqing blinked, startled. "What? You mean... hobbies? Food?"
He stared at the ceiling, his voice devoid of any warmth or nostalgia. "I have no such things. In my world, 'liking' something is a luxury that usually ends in tragedy."
The air in the room seemed to freeze for a second. Fang Yuqing frowned, feeling a pang of pity for the soul behind the mask, but she quickly masked it by muttering under her breath, "This guy... he's really, really difficult to get along with."
Yuan Wu didn't respond to her mumbles. He closed his eyes for a moment, and for the first time, his aura slightly retracted, though the room still felt small with him in it.
"Tell me about this world," he commanded, his eyes snapping open. "Spirit-Masters, Spirits... and where I fit into this hierarchy."
Fang Yuqing took a deep breath, cleared a space on the table, and sat across from him. Her expression turned professional, the "Top Student" of Synergy Kolej finally taking charge.
"This world began to collapse decades ago," she began, her voice steady. "Secret Realms—wedges of other dimensions—descended upon our cities. Monsters, we call them 'Eroshas,' appeared from within. Reality itself was being eaten away. Our conventional weapons, our tanks and jets, were almost useless. They lacked the 'Spiritual Frequency' to deal permanent damage."
She paused, looking directly into his crimson eye. "Until the Spirit-Masters appeared. We discovered we could use Spirit Stones to pull 'Soul Templates' from what we call the 'Pool of All Realms'—a collective graveyard of heroes, villains, and legends from across the multiverse. We forge contracts with you to give you form and fight back. The stronger the Spirit, the lower the pull rate. Even an SSR is considered a national-level asset. A UR..." she trailed off, gesturing to him. "A UR is a myth. You are a being that can change the map of a country."
Yuan Wu nodded slowly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his knee. "A gacha world," he whispered, a dark smirk playing behind his mask. "So I am a 'pull.' A lucky strike."
He raised his hand, watching the faint dark mist of his Kagune energy swirl around his fingers. "I can feel it. My current power is being suppressed by your world's laws. I have, perhaps, one-tenth of my true strength."
Fang Yuqing nodded quickly. "Exactly. That's because you were just summoned. Your initial level is 10. To unlock your full potential and those locked skills like 'Dragon Form,' we need to hunt monsters in the Secret Realms to gain experience. The cap is level 100."
She hesitated, her voice dropping an octave. "And... I'm still a student. I'm strong for my age, but my spiritual pool isn't vast enough yet. My 'mana'—the energy I provide you—will limit how long you can stay in high-output modes. If I run out, you'll vanish back into the card state."
Yuan Wu let out a short, sharp laugh. It wasn't a sound of amusement; it was a sound of challenge.
"I see. Then you'd better get stronger quickly, Master. I don't intend to lose because my 'battery' ran out of juice. Don't hold me back."
Fang Yuqing's face turned beet-red again, this time from indignation. "Don't look down on me! I'm the strongest freshman in this entire intake! I have a double-A grade spiritual root!" She scooped up the white, winged cat from her shoulder and thrust it toward him. "Besides, Little White is an A-rank support spirit! He can buff our stats!"
The white cat shuddered, its wings tucking tightly against its back as it met Yuan Wu's gaze. "Meow..." (It sounded remarkably like a plea for its life).
Yuan Wu reached out a gloved hand as if to pinch the creature. "Oh? A cat with wings? In my world, we'd call this a mutant. Is it edible?"
"HIS NAME IS LITTLE WHITE AND HE IS NOT FOOD!!!" Fang Yuqing screamed, hugging the cat to her chest.
While the two bickered within the safety of the villa, the digital and social fabric of the city was tearing at the seams.
On every screen in the Magic Cube district, breaking news banners flashed in violent red: [EMERGENCY INTEL: DIVINE-TIER UR SPIRIT SIGHTED AT MAGIC CUBE ACADEMY!] [CONFIRMED: R-RANK "TRASH" REVERSES INTO GOD-TIER APPARITION!] [ACADEMY LOCKDOWN: FANG FAMILY DAUGHTER SECURES THE ULTIMATE CONTRACT!]
The "R-to-UR" event had shattered every known law of Spirit-Mastery. Secret societies, rival academies, and corporate syndicates were already mobilizing. Agents were being dispatched, and bounties were being whispered in dark corners.
Back in the villa, the playful bickering died down as Yuan Wu turned his gaze toward the large floor-to-ceiling window. Through the reflection of the glass, his red eye looked like a drop of blood in the moonlight.
"The noise is coming, Master," he said, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly calm register. "I can smell the greed from here. It smells like rotting meat."
He leaned back, the four deep-red Kagune on his back shifting slightly beneath his combat suit, ready to burst forth at a moment's notice.
"But let them come," he mused, a cold, predatory light dancing in his eyes. "This world... might actually be fun enough to keep me awake."
Fang Yuqing looked at him, realizing that her quiet life as a top student was over. She was now the keeper of a god, and the world was coming to take him. She gripped Little White a little tighter and looked at Yuan Wu's back.
"Then we'll show them," she whispered. "We'll show them why you're a UR."