I heard Principal Wang calling me up to the crystal — loud, eager.
Funny thing? He didn't push anyone else like that.
But me? He was practically flying.
Like he'd been waiting for this moment, his whole life.
Guess he really wanted to watch a good joke fail.
Damn old man.
Not only old man but everyone also leaned forward — even the teachers, pretending to act serious while whispering like kids.
I didn't need to listen closely.
I already knew what they were whispering.
You don't need to be a genius for that.
"Look everyone, the trash came back."
"Did he really survive?"
"Maybe he'll cry again."
"This might be funny."
Somewhere in the crowd, I could hear someone bet,
"Ten credits says it won't even glow."
I sighed. "Still betting on me, huh? Nice to know I'm consistent."
As I walked to the stage, all those faces followed me — curious, mocking, waiting for me to fail again.
Part of me wanted to laugh.
Part of me wanted to let them see what real power looked like.
But mostly?
I don't give a damn about their opinions. If they laugh, they will earn a slot on my list — Bai Shou, Chi Yan, whoever else likes to crow. I'll write the names down, one by one. Easy to track. Easier to end then.
I placed my hand on the crystal.
[ FALSE GENESIS — OVERRIDE PANEL ]
[ NAME (Display Only)
- Shen Yan (default)
- Custom: ___________________ ]
[AGE (Display Only)
18 (actual)
20
21
Custom: ______]
[BLOODLINE (Display Only - choose ONE]
[Abyss Seed (True Origin — Hidden by default)]
[ Acquired Signatures Detected:]
Rockhide Ape (Chen Wu)
Scarlet Flame Fox (Liu Fang)
Thorn Serpent (Zhao Min)
Titan Boar (He Jian)
Earthshatter Simian (Lin Qiao)
Steelback Ravager (Wen Zhihao)]
[ RANK (Display Only)]
Actual: E-1
Display As:
[ ] F-1
[ ] F-3
[ ] F-4
[ ] F-5
[ ] E-1 ]
[ PREVIEW → APPLY ]
A menu popped up. Looked like one of those dumb sign-up forms from back then.
I just stared at it.
"…You've gotta be kidding."
Name. Age. Rank. Bloodline.
Blank spaces.
Like I'm supposed to fill myself in.
So that's what this skill is? Make-your-own-fake-identity.exe.
I let out a small snort. I remember how people used to make fake accounts online just to look cool. "Rich." "Handsome." "Model." "CEO."
Meanwhile they were eating instant noodles in a dark room.
Not that I ever made one. Didn't have anyone to pretend for.
But the idea's the same:
Lie until someone believes it.
And now I can lie to a crystal. To the world.
…Yeah. That's kinda funny.
It was strange.
This part — walk up, touch the crystal — should've been nothing.
But my thoughts just kept lining up in my head like students in cafeteria break time.
Shoving. Pushing. Everyone wants to be first. Figures.
What do I show them?
Shen Yan: the trash.
The same joke everyone pointed at.
The one who cried here once.
I could wear that face again.
It's easy to pretend to be something everyone already believes.
No one looks twice at garbage they throw outside their house.
…But then there's the "reborn" version.
You know — the dramatic comeback story.
Trash becomes monster.
Monster becomes legend.
Cue the gasps, the cheering, the emotional soundtrack.
"Ah yes, the prodigy has returned from despair!!!"
Right.
Return of the fallen genius.
Return of the divine chosen child.
Return of the guy-who-was-actually-secretly-trained-by-an-immortal-old-man-who-lives-on-a-mountain-and-eats-clouds-for-breakfast.
I almost rolled my eyes.
Please.
If I walk out acting like some "Heaven-defying protagonist," I'll have every camera, family clan, recruiter, and psychotic fanatic sniffing my ass within five minutes.
No thanks.
Too loud.
Too bright.
Too many eyes.
…Or I stay the quiet one.
The shadow walking behind everyone else.
No attention.
No noise.
Just close enough to reach their throat when I feel like it.
A knife doesn't need to introduce itself.
I breathed out, slow.
"…Man."
I dragged my hand down my face.
I devour things that is impossible.
I break bones with my bare hands.
I silence entire group of othersworldy creature in single breath.
And somehow the hardest part is deciding what face to show.
Ridiculous.
But that's how it is.
I looked at the crystal.
Then at the crowd.
Then back at myself, somewhere inside all that noise.
My lips moved — just a small pull at the corner.
Yeah.
Shadow works.
And you know why? Because it's even not just strategy.
It's avoiding stupidity.
Because if I walk out of here shining like some reborn genius, suddenly everyone wants a piece of me.
Girls I've never spoken to start acting like we had fate written in the stars.
Their boyfriends show up foaming at the mouth, ready to die for honor or whatever trash they call it.
No, thank you.
I don't need girls fainting and tripping in front of me like dominoes.
I don't need guys punching walls for character development.
I don't need some bald sage popping out of a bush to say, "You are chosen."
I choose me.
In the shadows:
No audience.
No drama.
No romance drama that drags forever and still ends with nothing.
Just clean silence, clean movement, clean kills.
And you know the worst part of it? If I take one of them down and then the real circus starts.
First the younger brother swears revenge,
then the older brother wants to prove something,
then the father wants to reclaim family pride,
then the mother screams about her baby and spits curses like fireworks,
then the grandfather limps in talking about how he once punched mountains when he was sixteen,
and then the great-grandfather crawls out of the grave just to show me his final technique.
No.
I am not doing a whole seven-generation revenge arc every time I breathe.
Staying low is quiet.
No eyes.
No screaming.
No fake smiles.
No one thinking they know my story.
No one trying to guess what I'll do next.
Moving in the dark means I choose the fight.
I choose the time.
I choose who lives long enough to regret walking into my path.
And I like the view from down here.
"So here comes my fake identity," I said.
My mouth twitched up a little. Just a bit.
I kept it small. Quiet. Only I needed to know it was there.