【Special Spectator Reward:
Detected special player Chen Xi awakening the class 【Constable (Gold)】, special player Zheng Wenxuan awakening the class 【Pill Master (Yellow)】, and special player Ashima awakening the class 【Shepherd (Green)】. The Screenwriter randomly obtains three class skills.】
【Drawing...】
【Skill 1 (Shepherd Skill): Felt Tent
Active Skill: Deploy a 4x4 shepherd's felt on the ground. All friendly units within range restore 2% of their maximum health per second, and physical damage taken is reduced by 25%. Lasts for 25 seconds.】
【Skill 2 (Pill Master Skill): Marrow Cleansing and Detoxification
Active Skill: Refine 1 Marrow-Cleansing Pill to clear all negative status effects, poison, and curses from oneself or a designated ally, granting 12 seconds of immunity to all status ailments.】
【Skill 3 (Constable Skill): Heavenly Justice
Passive Effect: All damage dealt to targets with 'Evil', 'Evil Spirit', or 'Ghost' tags is increased by 25%, and control skill durations are extended by 30%
Stacking Effect: Each successful kill of a hostile target permanently increases Attack Power by 1 point.】
【Current Skills: Heavenly Justice, Rooster Crow Phantom, High-Rise from Flat Ground, Felt Tent, Marrow Cleansing and Detoxification...】
...
...
“Wait, wait, let me wrap my head around this.”
Song Mo looked at the three newly acquired skills and suddenly noticed a blind spot:
The skills she drew had no cooldowns.
Song Mo squinted, opened her player panel, and compared them word by word with the class panels of Chen Xi, Ashima, and Zheng Wenxuan.
It was practically the difference between a cracked, in-app purchase version of a game and a pay-to-win, watered-down version.
This couldn't help but raise some questions in her mind.
Previously, Song Mo had always believed that she was drawing skills from players, enjoying the fruits of their talent as they cleared Instances.
But if she broke it down, she would find that the underlying logic didn't make sense at all.
If the Screenwriter could 'draw' player skills, why did the skills she obtained have no cooldowns and could even ignore class restrictions?
If the players were the ones being drawn from, why did the skills they ended up with have so many more restrictions compared to Song Mo's?
“Ashima's Felt Tent is only 2x2 with a twenty-four-hour cooldown. Zheng Wenxuan's Marrow Cleansing and Detoxification can only dispel the 'Poisoned' status effect, lacks the twelve-second immunity, and has a six-hour cooldown.”
Song Mo stroked her chin.
“Chen Xi's kill passive stacking has a cap of three hundred. So... who is actually providing the skills to whom?”
She had always thought that the 'Screenwriter' class was an onlooker and observer holding the script, likely the legendary Dazzling White-tier class.
But looking at it now, the level of existence of this identity far exceeded her imagination.
How was this a random draw of player skills?
It was more like the 【Screenwriter】 naturally possessed a complete set of max-level, zero-cooldown divine skills—
—while the so-called player classes and player skills were more like some form of authority that had been stripped away, infinitely weakened, and scattered as defective fragments.
The 【Screenwriter】 was the source, the main body, the rules themselves.
Song Mo's long-stagnant heart unexpectedly rippled with waves of emotion.
No cooldown meant she could use them continuously.
No upper limit meant the potential of the 【Screenwriter】 was boundless.
Then where exactly lay the limit of her skill activations?
Song Mo gave it some serious thought and realized she had never even considered this question before.
In the past, whenever she cast a skill, she did so casually—after all, unlike players, she didn't have a personal panel, nor did she have a health or mana bar.
Thinking this, Song Mo's gaze suddenly landed on the Mouse Servant who was lounging in the shade of the tree, enjoying the mountain fruits offered by its descendants like a little king.
Song Mo opened her hand and cast the skill 【Marrow Cleansing and Detoxification】.
The first activation.
A large cloud of faint green mist appeared out of thin air, dispersing a fresh, herbal fragrance as green dewdrops slowly condensed on the leaves of the surrounding plants.
The nearby vegetation seemed to be nourished, stretching their branches to their hearts' content.
“Squeak?!”
The Mouse Servant, who had been lounging lazily, initially thought something was wrong and sprang up. But upon realizing it was its great master, it lay back down, exposing its white belly, which jiggled softly.
Around it, hundreds of mice of all sizes raised their heads and sniffed frantically, their fur visibly turning soft and smooth.
Song Mo clenched her fist.
She felt nothing; there wasn't the slightest anomaly in her body.
Her expression unchanged, she continuously repeated the skill activation.
The tenth, fifteenth, nineteenth time...
The entire process was seamless. Like a machine, she repeatedly performed the simplest hand-raising gesture.
Song Mo was calm, her breathing steady and long, showing no signs of fatigue or weakness.
On the other hand, the changes in the mouse pack grew more pronounced with each passing time.
After nineteen uninterrupted cleanses from the max-level Marrow Cleansing and Detoxification skill, the mice of all sizes had grown accustomed to the green mist wash.
Plump, chubby mice lay flat on their backs on the ground, their eyes clear.
After the nineteenth activation, Song Mo still felt nothing physically.
She increased her speed further, starting to activate it non-stop.
The thirtieth time.
The grass and leaves on the ground began to sprout frantically. The vines, as if on drugs, slithered like snakes, climbing up the arbor trees.
Unknown wild flowers bloomed and withered, and plump red fruits hung from the branches, looking exceptionally festive.
This time, a very faint, dull ache arose between Song Mo's brows.
It was extremely weak, almost imperceptible.
It was a long-lost feeling of discomfort—very faint, yet undeniably real.
“I feel something.”
Song Mo felt inexplicably excited and continued to activate the skill.
The thirty-fifth, the fortieth, the forty-fifth.
With the continuous high-frequency activations, Song Mo's temples began to throb with a faint dizziness.
A mild lightheadedness slowly spread, making her head feel fuzzy, as if she were drunk.
It was just like the slight buzz she used to get after drinking a bottle of low-alcohol beverage to find inspiration.
Having lost her sense of pain for so long, Song Mo had thought she was about to forget what this felt like.
The fiftieth, the sixtieth, the seventieth.
The surrounding vegetation became lush, and flowers bloomed in abundance.
The seventy-fifth.
The seventy-eighth.
...
The ninety-fourth.
The old locust tree where the Mouse Servant resided seemed to have received immense nourishment, thickening and growing at a visible rate.
The locust tree's branches and leaves spread out, almost blotting out the sky. Countless dense clusters of white locust blossoms hung down from the branches, emitting a refreshing fragrance.
The patch of ground beneath Song Mo's feet was exceptionally, vibrantly green.
—Even looking from outside the mountains, one could spot this unusual patch of 'vibrant green' at a glance.
Ninety-four consecutive, uninterrupted activations of 【Marrow Cleansing and Detoxification】.
A trace of slightly cold liquid quietly slid down from Song Mo's nose.
“My Lady! You're hurt!”
The fierce ghost A'yan practically threw herself forward, but with great restraint, she took a few steps back, holding a handkerchief in her hands.
“I'm bleeding.”
Song Mo wasn't upset at all. Instead, she stared at the blood that had dripped onto her palm for a long while before letting out a smile:
“A'yan, look, I'm bleeding.”
She was a living dead.
She couldn't taste flavors, had no emotional fluctuations, her heart didn't beat, and her skin wouldn't get goosebumps from the cold.
It seemed everything about once being 'human' was slowly drifting away from her.
Thus, seeing this drop of blood, she felt an uncontrollable surge of joy instead.
It felt like proof that she was still alive.
She was still 'alive.'
And she might very well 'resurrect.'
...
...
“My Lady, is it because of these furry beasts?”
A'yan didn't understand Song Mo's complex thoughts. She only held the handkerchief, blood-tears streaming down her face, her mouth puckering as she was on the verge of crying:
“Just to awaken their intelligence, why must you harm yourself?”
Pitch-black yin energy spread along the shadow into the tree shade, hovering menacingly over the Mouse Servant's fragile neck. It seemed as if in the next second, the fierce ghost would snap this bone without hesitation.
The Mouse Servant lay on the ground, playing dead.
The mice of all sizes beside it didn't even dare to squeak, all shrinking behind the Mouse Servant, not daring to move.
“It has nothing to do with them. I was conducting an experiment.”
Song Mo waved her hand, stopping A'yan from going wild:
“I am too weak. Besides, it's just a little nosebleed. I don't feel any discomfort.”
She didn't plan to continue testing.
Although her body was riddled with mysteries, Song Mo just knew that once the strange acupoint map in her head was repaired, the answers she sought would all come to light.
...
...
Jiangcheng, the General Hospital of the National Special Incident Investigation Department.
After the Jiangcheng University incident broke out, the Investigation Department was established—this department was not open to the public, nor was it registered in public databases. It was solely responsible for handling all investigations, evidence collection, research, and prevention and control work for various supernatural Instance events.
The independent sterile intensive care unit.
At this moment, inside the fully transparent tempered glass isolation area of the ward, a constant-temperature sterile hospital bed stood quietly.
On the bed, a soldier lay quietly, her eyes tightly closed.
Her breathing was even. She looked as if she were in a deep sleep, but in reality, a full nine hours had passed since she fell into a deep, unconscious coma.
Her name was Ashima.
Twenty-six years old, of ethnic minority origin from the Dian region, and an active-duty member of the national special operations forces.
Electrocardiogram monitors, electroencephalogram monitors, mental power fluctuation monitors, full-body muscle scanners, cell activity monitors...
A total of over ten top-tier precision instruments monitored, captured data, and scanned her body twenty-four hours a day without interruption.
Yet, on the screens, all physical data was completely normal.
Her vital signs were stable, meeting all health standards.
“...Comrade Ashima's heart rate is stable, blood pressure is normal, cell activity is at a perfect score, there is no physical damage, no lesions in the cerebral cortex, no neurological disorders, and no abnormalities in her internal organs...”
By all metrics of modern medicine, she is completely healthy.”
Outside the glass ward stood the nation's top authorities.
Academician Li, white-haired and having deeply worked in the field of bioneurology for sixty years, knitted his brows tightly:
“In other words, she isn't sick at all; she is simply asleep.”
Rate on N.U.
