The first time Li Yun saw the panel, he thought it was a fever dream. White text etched itself onto the air above his bed, crisp as if chiseled into glass.

[System: Attribute Aggregator v1.0 Online]

[Host: Li Yun]

[Primary Attributes: Strength 0.9 | Agility 1.0 | Physique 1.0 | Perception 1.2 | Spirit 1.1]

[Techniques: None]

[Currency: Attribute Fragments (0)]

[New Function Unlocked: External Status Access — “Insight Eye”]

He lay still, watching the words hover between him and the ceiling fan. It whirred like a rotor trying to cut the night in half.

“...I don’t remember installing anything,” he whispered.

The panel didn’t answer. The sounds outside—mopeds, arguing neighbors, the muffled bark of a courtyard dog—went on. Yun’s apartment near East Harbor University was a one-room shoebox with a kitchenette and a stubborn smell of instant noodles.

He swung his legs off the bed and nearly tripped over his own backpack. A spare pair of sneakers, a cheap secondhand phone, two textbooks on material sciences, and one guilt-ridden envelope from the landlord stared up at him.

Rent due in three days.

He rubbed his face. “If this is a prank, it’s not funny.”

With nothing else to do, he reached up, and the interface flowed like a flock of starlings, responding to his intent. A new line unfolded.

[Tip: Attribute Fragments are produced when martial techniques are practiced or skills are expressed within range. Fragments are free-floating and can be absorbed by the Host. Fragments can be allocated to improve attributes or converted into Skill Comprehension.]

“Martial techniques? Skills?” Yun’s laugh caught on its own doubt. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”

He opened the window. Night wind slithered in, carrying the metallic tang of the port and the spice of street-side skewers. On the lawn below, two dorm guys—shirtless, drunk on bravado—traded clumsy punches under the yellow wash of a sodium lamp. Their friends shouted tips like they were throwing coins into a well.

Yun blinked. A shower of pinprick lights twinkled around the fighting pair, like dust caught in a sunbeam—except these motes were drifting up toward his window.

[Detected: Crude Boxing Form]

[Attribute Fragments: +0.1 Strength, +0.1 Agility, +0.1 Perception (Unassigned)]

Yun went still. The motes slid toward him, kinder than snow.

He didn’t do anything. He didn’t move. But the fragments seeped through him, and a low, thrumming warmth pulsed in his fingers and toes. His breath deepened, his back straightened by a few millimeters, and the room felt clearer, edges sharper.

“...You’ve got to be kidding.”

He stared down at the two boys and then had a thought—half-mad, half-giddy. He looked at the lanky one. The world clicked.

[External Status Access: Target — Qiao Bin]

[Age: 20 | Affiliation: East Harbor University | Temperament: Brash]

[Primary Attributes: Strength 1.3 | Agility 1.2 | Physique 1.1 | Perception 0.9 | Spirit 0.8]

[Techniques: Street Boxing (Unstructured) F-]

[Talents: Pain Tolerance (Low), Stamina (Average)]

[Weak Points: Telegraphs right hook; stance collapses under lateral feints]

[Hidden: Bruised ribs (2 days old), fear of father’s belt]

Yun’s breath hitched. He tore his gaze to the other boy.

[Target — Wu Cheng]

[Primary Attributes: Strength 1.0 | Agility 1.0 | Physique 1.0 | Perception 1.1 | Spirit 1.0]

[Techniques: None]

[Hidden: Knuckles scraped; lie told to girlfriend (“I’m not fighting tonight.”)]

He closed his eyes. “Okay. Okay.”

He reopened them and focused on himself.

[Host: Li Yun]

[Primary Attributes: Strength 1.0 | Agility 1.1 | Physique 1.0 | Perception 1.3 | Spirit 1.1]

[Unassigned Fragments: Strength +0.1, Agility +0.1, Perception +0.1]

The smallest grin tugged at him. For the first time in months, the gnawing knot behind his ribs—the one made from bills and bad luck—loosened. He had stumbled into a lattice of rules. And if there were rules, there was a way to win.

He whispered, “Allocate Strength +0.1. Agility +0.1. Perception +0.1.”

Warmth slid into his bones like tea on a winter day.

Outside, Qiao Bin swung and missed, face twisting in puzzled rage as Wu Cheng—by accident more than skill—leaned just out of reach.

“Enough,” someone barked.

A new voice cut through the courtyard. Yun leaned on the sill. A tall man strode under the sodium light, his long coat catching the breeze with dramatic disdain. His walk was too balanced, too quiet.

The panel unfolded of its own accord.

[Target — Zhang Wei]

[Age: 29 | Affiliation: None (Unregistered) | Temperament: Cold]

[Primary Attributes: Strength 2.8 | Agility 3.0 | Physique 2.7 | Perception 3.1 | Spirit 2.3]

[Techniques: Flowing Step C+, Bone-Threading Palm C, Silent Breath B-]

[Talents: Spatial Sense (High), Pain Discipline (High)]

[Hidden: Concealed blade at left wrist; bounty notice (Red Lantern Syndicate); wounds masked via breath technique; purpose: scouting recruits]

Yun’s heart thumped once, hard.

The tall man’s gaze flicked around the courtyard and, for a moment, seemed to land on Yun’s window. Not possible, Yun told himself. Not possible—unless—

Zhang Wei said, “If you want to fight, learn to walk without tripping over your own feet. Class starts tomorrow at six. Dockside warehouses. First lesson is free.”

He turned and vanished into the alley, steps evaporating like foam.

The courtyard dissolved into hushed talk. Boys, when handed the shape of a myth, required only a time and an address. Wu Cheng swore. Qiao Bin spat and laughed in a way that promised he would show up.

Yun shut the window and let the panel hover like a second moon in the room.

“System,” he said. “Can I copy techniques?”

[Response: No direct copying. However, exposure generates Attribute Fragments and Comprehension Shards. When shards reach threshold, techniques can be synthesized, improved, or converted.]

“Can I see anyone’s panel?”

[Response: Within line of sight. Higher-level targets may resist detailed reading. Spirit attribute improves insight resolution. Some masks will still break.]

He breathed out a laugh. The knot in him uncoiled further. “Some masks will still break.”