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Under the night sky, a crumbling church stood solitary in the wilderness. Faint candlelight flickered gently, providing illumination for visitors.
The warmth of the fire brushed against Viya’s face as she slowly opened her eyes.
“You’re awake?” An elderly woman with kind eyes sat beside the bed, a thick tome resting on her lap. Judging by her attire, she might have been a clergy member.
Viya’s memory halted at the moment she touched the red orb.
So I must be in the island connected by the red light point… She understood that the “islands” of the Void Domain were isolated spaces, each taking on various forms—homes, plazas, or even churches.
But soon, she stopped thinking altogether.
After all, what was the point of overthinking?
“Perhaps you need some water to calm yourself.” The elderly woman handed her a bottle of water, her voice filled with concern. “Do you know, when I found you, it was in an abandoned wasteland—completely deserted.”
“Did your family abandon you? You look so young.”
Viya took a sip of water, glanced at the health bar above the woman’s head, wiped her mouth with her sleeve, and nodded.
“Thank you.”
The woman smiled, but before she could say “You’re welcome,” a sharp blade pierced through her throat. Blood dripped from the cold tip of the sword onto the floor.
A piercing shriek shattered the candlelight. A foul, decaying stench filled the air as dark smoke billowed from the woman’s corpse. From within, a pair of translucent, shadowy claws emerged.
“How did you see through my disguise?”
The banshee’s voice was hoarse and low, speaking to herself as she suddenly raised her claws and swung fiercely at Viya.
The howling wind overturned books on the table, sending pages flying. Viya sidestepped, avoiding the attack without glancing at the deep gash left on the wall. With a twist of her wrist, she rolled off the bed.
In two quick strides, she retrieved the longsword from the corpse, ducked under a second strike, and using her lowered center of gravity, gripped the sword firmly with both hands and swung with force.
The gleaming blade passed straight through the banshee, leaving no visible impact.
This thing seems… immune to physical attacks?
Viya blinked, meeting the banshee’s mocking gaze. Time seemed to freeze in that instant.
---
Pure moonlight streamed through the windows, casting its glow on the ground. Despite being abandoned for years, the church still carried a faint sense of sanctity. Standing within, one couldn’t help but recall scenes of countless believers singing hymns in unison.
Chairs were neatly arranged, though many bore cracks. Only a few oil lamps lit the vast first floor. Occasional faint noises sounded like wind whistling through broken windows.
Peaceful yet eerie… This had been the church’s tone for decades, never wavering.
BOOM—
A violent noise shattered this tranquility. The ceiling cracked open, and a figure plummeted from the second floor.
With a twist of her waist and a turn of her body, Viya landed gracefully atop the narrow backrest of a pew, balancing perfectly.
A shallow scratch marked her cheek, blood slowly seeping out.
Viya casually wiped the blood away, her gaze never leaving the gap in the ceiling where the banshee’s shadow loomed.
Gravel and stones continued to fall from the breach, the entire church trembling precariously.
Another shrill cry erupted, and the banshee lunged forward at a speed almost impossible to follow. Her elongated, distorted shadow swept across the room, stirring up a fierce gust of wind.
Beneath the flash of steel, Viya leaned backward just in time to evade the attack. The already decrepit wooden floor shattered beneath the blow.
Once, twice, thrice… The banshee grew increasingly frustrated as every single one of her attacks was narrowly dodged. Each attempt seemed mere millimeters away from hitting, yet that tiny gap became an insurmountable chasm.
Until, in one attack, her claw struck an oil lamp by accident. Flames splashed onto her arm.
“AHHH—” The banshee’s agonized scream echoed, and whether it was an illusion or not, her arm seemed to solidify slightly.
Seizing the opportunity, Viya’s blade slashed through the banshee’s arm, severing it cleanly. No blood spilled.
The flames quickly extinguished, and the banshee’s form faded once more into intangibility.
She seemed to realize something, tilting her head back and emitting another ear-piercing shriek. This time, the sound was different—not merely an emotional outburst but sharper, longer, and imbued with magical resonance.
Under the influence of this shriek, Viya felt as though her skull would split open. If not for her inability to control her body, she might have collapsed in agony.
Her breathing grew labored, her limbs feeling weak and powerless.
“So noisy…” A soft murmur sounded in her ear, tinged with faint irritation.
The next moment, all sounds ceased—the crackling of flames, the banshee’s piercing shriek, the faint whistle of wind through broken windows—all fell silent. The stillness was terrifying.
---
In the real world.
“So noisy…”
Lin Qi sat in his chair, his expression twisted in frustration.
When he saw the banshee tilt her head back earlier, he hadn’t thought much of it, assuming it was just the setup for a big move transitioning into phase two.
And indeed, he was right—it was a big move.
But who could have guessed it would be THIS kind of big move?!
Lin Qi couldn’t describe the sound of the banshee’s shriek. It was as if someone had taken a decade-old microphone, belted out non-mainstream rock music, and shouted, “Is my mic blasting loud enough?”
Damn it, whose genius idea was this?!
Shouldn’t skills like this only incapacitate the game character, putting them into an abnormal state?
Why did it directly affect the player instead?!
Glaring at the envelope stuffed with money, Lin Qi let out a huff of frustration, then silently opened the game settings menu.
He turned all volume options down to zero.
---
Viya vaguely remembered reading in a book that when someone reached the pinnacle of mastery in a particular field, they entered a state of complete focus. In that state, all distractions were eliminated, leaving only the goal and oneself.
Perhaps it was divine favor, granting her a brief taste of this realm that even geniuses struggled their entire lives to achieve.
Viya began sprinting around the church, her sword striking each oil lamp with precision. Sparks flew into every corner, igniting in roaring flames.
Burning wood chips floated in the air like rain.
The banshee couldn’t understand why this human was unaffected by her shriek. By the time she regained her senses, the entire first floor of the church was bathed in golden fire, its heat filling her with terror.
A sharp whistling sound exploded behind her. Before the banshee could turn around, a streak of silver descended, leaving a grotesque and horrifying wound across her back.
Without pausing, the sword carved through her again and again, each swing accompanied by a gust of wind that carried flames, leaving deeper wounds with every strike.
The banshee lashed out desperately with her claws, attempting to tear through the walls and escape to the second floor. Once free of this place, control would return to her hands.
But a slender hand seized her first. Though it appeared frail, no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t break free. Her upward momentum was abruptly halted.
Under the banshee’s terrified gaze, Viya slammed her violently to the ground, drew her blade, and spun the hilt like a club, bringing it down with relentless force.
Amidst the continuous pounding, her usually placid expression revealed a rare hint of anger:
“Keep screaming?!”
“Enjoy blasting your mic?”
“If I can’t deal with the developers, can’t I at least deal with you?!”
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