Chapter One: This Is Not a Game

Bang!

A bullet shot at close range from a flintlock wielded by a sailor of the Black Sail Pirates struck Chu Cheng in the chest, bursting forth a torrent of blood. Yet he bared his teeth in a ferocious grimace, and with a swift, backward motion, drew his blade across the pirate’s throat, ending the man’s life.

"This is not a game!"

Clutching his wound, Chu Ze collapsed onto the chaotic pile of three corpses, immediately retrieving a roll of linen bandages from his personal space. He deftly bound his injury, staunching the flow of blood.

"One less chance, only four uses left."

He returned the linen bandage to his personal space with a heavy sigh.

After a moment, feeling the bandage begin to take effect and his wound ease, Chu Cheng murmured softly to himself:

"Query combat information!"

In the next instant, a luminous screen appeared before him, visible only to his eyes. A series of statistics glided downward:

"Based on your perception, you will receive detailed combat data as follows."

"Combat replay begins."

"……"

"Your attack inflicted 28 points of physical damage on the Black Sail Pirate. The target’s defense deducted 7 points of physical damage, resulting in 21 points of actual damage taken."

"You received a flintlock shot from the Black Sail Pirate, causing 30 points of physical damage. Your defense deducted 16 points, with 14 points of damage finally sustained."

"Your next attack dealt 27 points of physical damage; the target’s defense deducted 7 points, resulting in 20 points of actual damage."

"Your damage exceeded the target’s remaining life. Target deceased!"

"You gained 12 points of kill experience."

"Thankfully the level wasn’t high, or I’d be done for," Chu Cheng exhaled, closing the screen. He turned his gaze toward the distant sea, where a colossal three-masted pirate ship loomed, and fell into deep contemplation.

"This is not a game!"

He had heard these words countless times since childhood—from his parents, and later from teachers and classmates. At first, the phrase meant little to him. Not until he succeeded in obtaining the Mark of Chaos, forged a body of digitized law, and officially entered the Realm of Chaos, did he understand its significance.

It all began with the descent of the Realm of Chaos.

More than ten thousand years ago, the Realm of Chaos suddenly arrived—a world utterly beyond human imagination. Within it, all scientific means became useless; even the most powerful firearms were less effective than a simple blade.

Missiles and nuclear weapons could not be used in this world, reduced to mere scrap metal. Machinery and electronic devices likewise failed to operate; science was no longer truth.

Humanity, once at the pinnacle of Earth’s food chain through intelligence and technology, became the weakest species at the bottom in the Realm of Chaos. Any monster could slaughter them with ease.

Countless humans perished at the hands of chaos monsters in those early days.

Yet fate is not without mercy. Soon after entering the Realm of Chaos, some humans discovered they could receive the Mark of Chaos, and were then granted bodies of digitized law by the world’s rules.

Such bodies possessed a lifespan of one hundred fifty years, free from disease or disaster, perpetually at their peak—youthful until the end.

As with all creatures of Chaos, those who had the body of law gained experience by slaying monsters, leveling up, and increasing their attributes to strengthen themselves.

When their power reached a certain threshold, a qualitative change occurred, granting them extraordinary abilities and even longer life.

This discovery stunned all of humanity.

From initial terror to fervent desire, only two years passed.

From then on, more and more humans descended into the Realm of Chaos for the Mark, hunting monsters, leveling up, evolving themselves.

As their exploration deepened, humanity gradually encountered numerous native races in the world’s depths, acquiring cultivation techniques, unique bloodlines, heroic legacies, and more.

With growing familiarity of the world’s rules, humanity’s strongest became ever more powerful, their lives ever longer.

By the fiftieth year in the Realm of Chaos, humanity produced its first legendary figure.

A lifespan of a thousand years drove everyone mad with envy.

By the five hundredth year, the first god-level human arose, revealing that humans could, indeed, ascend to godhood.

Thus, human civilization entered the Chaos Epoch.

Levels, professions, digitized panels, combat, killing, leveling up, loot, death—all like a game.

"But this is not a game!"

This was why, despite Chu Cheng having reached level 9 and despite the world containing many high-level monsters, he chose to grind in the region where only level 5 Black Sail Pirate sailors roamed.

Safety.

Level nine fighting level five, the experience was halved, but it was safer.

In the Realm of Chaos, the monsters were real—both in intelligence and combat prowess.

Alone, yet to choose a profession, with no combat skills learned and poor equipment, fighting monsters of equal level was exceedingly dangerous.

Even one was hard to handle, and most monsters moved in packs. Facing two or more of the same level meant certain defeat.

"Continue."

"Let’s try to reach level ten today, then return for profession advancement."

Chu Cheng drew a deep breath, his gaze fixed on a lone Black Sail Pirate wandering behind a nearby thicket.

He crouched and crept forward, using the shrubs for cover to get closer. After careful observation, he inhaled sharply, drew a throwing knife from his breast, and hurled it at the pirate’s back.

The blade sailed through the greenery, striking the Black Sail Pirate squarely in the back, a spray of blood with a "-17" indicator.

The pirate howled in pain, drew a curved blade, and charged around the thicket toward Chu Cheng.

Chu Cheng met him without hesitation—only one, a guaranteed win.

The pirate rounded the shrubbery, drew a flintlock from his chest, and pulled the trigger:

Bang!

Chu Cheng instinctively dodged aside, but a sharp pain erupted in his chest and blood spurted forth.

His reflexes were quick, but his agility stat wasn’t high enough to avoid a point-blank shot from a flintlock.

Fortunately, he’d anticipated this—ten dodges might yield only one or two successes; missing was the norm.

Tensing his muscles, he pressed forward. His left hand skillfully parried the pirate’s curved blade, while his right plunged his own blade into the pirate’s shoulder, dealing "-21" damage.

Black Sail Pirate Sailor (Wastrel): Level 5, 55 HP.

One throwing knife, two slashes.

Finished.

He dispatched the pirate with ease, losing minimal HP himself, ready for further combat.

Chu Cheng specifically sought out solitary targets; those he couldn’t lure apart, he’d still attack as long as there weren’t more than two.

Three or more was strictly off-limits, not even worth attempting.

If the lure succeeded, fine; but failure meant grave danger.

Just now, he’d had the misfortune to encounter three pirates—nearly lost the fight.