Lin Hao woke up, not to the sound of his alarm, but to the sound of shouting.
He opened his eyes. The room was dim, the early morning sun filtering weakly through his grimy window.
The first thing he registered was that the cacophony of car alarms had finally stopped.
The second thing he registered was that it had been replaced by a much more chaotic sound: the sound of people.
It wasn't panicked screaming anymore. It was a confused, excited, and terrified uproar. It sounded like the entire campus was awake and outside on the quad.
He sat up. He didn't feel tired. He didn't feel groggy.
He felt... amazing.
He had fallen asleep after his final upgrade, his body thrumming with the new, warm energy of his [Level 5: Blood Vitality].
He hadn't just slept.
He realized his body had been cultivating all on its own, passively drinking in the new, rich Reiki from the air. The faint, sweet smell was even stronger now.
He looked at his hands. The soft, blue-white glow in his palm was gone, but he knew, with a single thought, he could call it back.
A crusted, greasy film of grime covered his entire body, the impurities he'd expelled during his rapid-fire upgrades. It felt disgusting. He needed a shower.
But first, he needed information.
He grabbed his phone. The screen was a spiderweb of cracks, but the display underneath still lit up. He grimaced, making a mental note to upgrade it later.
The campus Wi-Fi was down, the pulse had fried every router in the building, but his 5G data was, surprisingly, faster than he'd ever seen it.
He opened his social media feed.
It was an explosion.
The first video he saw was from a local gym, posted at 5:30 AM. A college-aged kid, built like a linebacker, was at a leg-press machine. He was screaming, not in pain, but in wild, ecstatic triumph.
The machine, which should have been loaded with a thousand pounds, was completely empty.
The kid wasn't just lifting the sled; he had broken it. He had pushed it so hard that the metal runners had bent, and the sled was jammed at the top. The kid was yelling, "I'M A GOD! I'M A GOD!"
Lin Hao recognized the feeling. That kid had probably awakened with a [Level 1: Iron Skin] or [Level 2: Muscle Weaving] talent.
He scrolled down.
The next post was a news link: "GLOBAL ELECTRONICS FAILURE: Experts blame 'unprecedented solar flare' for mass blackouts and malfunctions."
"A solar flare," Lin Hao snorted. That was the 'rational' explanation. It was wrong, but it was the best they had.
He kept scrolling.
A shaky, tearful video from a hospital ward. An old woman, her back stooped and her hands gnarled with what looked like severe arthritis, was... walking.
She was taking slow, steady steps down a hallway, a nurse beside her, openly weeping. The caption read: "My grandma hasn't walked in twelve years.
She woke up from the 'dizzy spell' and said... the pain was gone. This is a miracle."
"Miraculous healings," Lin Hao murmured. The Reiki pulse hadn't just activated spiritual roots; it had healed.
The "Planar Cleansing," as his System called it, had purged the impurities and weaknesses from everyone, at least a little.
The feed was a blur of chaos and wonder. "I punched my alarm clock... and my fist went through the wall." "DID ANYONE ELSE'S PET GO CRAZY? My cat literally ran up the side of the house." "GLOBAL 'DIZZY SPELL' AT 3:07 AM: Scientists baffled by shared global phenomenon."
The world was scrambling, trying to understand what had happened.
They were all confused, scared, and excited. They were all at the bottom of a new mountain, staring up.
Lin Hao, on the other hand, was already at the first base camp.
This was too much, too scattered. He needed an official source. He clicked on the national news live stream.
The video feed flickered. It was a government press conference, already in session. The room was packed with reporters, their faces grim. The atmosphere was incredibly tense.
At the podium stood a high-ranking military official, a man with graying hair and a chest full of ribbons. He looked like a man who hadn't slept, but his voice was iron.
"...and so, in light of these unprecedented, global-scale events," the General was saying, "the President, in cooperation with global leaders, has authorized the immediate formation of a new federal agency. This agency will be known as the 'Bureau of Supernatural Affairs,' or 'BSA.'"
Lin Hao's eyebrows shot up. "The BSA." They were moving fast.
"The Bureau's sole directive," the General continued, his eyes scanning the crowd, "will be to investigate, manage, and neutralize threats related to this new... paradigm. To register and, if possible, to train individuals who have... awakened."
A reporter shouted, "General! What is this 'paradigm'? What 'awakened'? Is it aliens? A biological weapon?"
The General held up a hand for silence. "We are facing a reality that, until twelve hours ago, was the stuff of myth and legend.
We cannot do this alone. For generations, certain... guardians... have watched over this country, over humanity, from the shadows.
They have kept their knowledge secret, waiting for this very day. This morning, they made contact with us, and we have formed an alliance."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"To explain the nature of this 'awakening,' I would like to introduce the Chief Technical Advisor to the new Bureau of Supernatural AFFAIRS. Please welcome... Elder Chen."
The camera panned to the side.
Lin Hao's heart skipped a beat.
It was him.
It was the old man from the mountain monastery in his vision. The 94-year-old Grandmaster.
But he was no longer the shocked, blood-spitting monk in simple robes. He was transformed. His long gray hair, which had been loose, was now tied back in a severe, neat bun. His wispy beard was trimmed. He was clean-shaven.
And he was wearing a uniform.
It was a stark, high-collared black tunic. It had no rank, no medals, just a single, striking silver emblem on the collar: a dragon coiled around a straight sword. The symbol of the BSA.
Elder Chen walked to the podium. He didn't look like a 94-year-old man. He looked timeless.
His eyes were as sharp and clear as a hawk's, and they held an ancient, unshakable authority.
The chaos of the press room instantly quieted. He commanded respect.
He leaned into the microphone. His voice was not loud, but it was deep and resonant, and it cut through the room with absolute clarity.
"What you experienced this morning," Elder Chen began, "was not a solar flare. It was not a weapon. It was an 'Awakening.'
The ancient texts, which my ancestors have preserved, call the energy you felt... 'Reiki.' Spiritual energy."
He had given the world the word.
"This energy," he continued, "has flooded our world. It has awakened the 'Spiritual Roots' that have been lying dormant in human blood for ten thousand years."
He explained the "Awakened", the people like the gym-goer, the ones who felt new strength or speed. "Most of you," he said, "have awakened a Level 1, 2, or 3 Root.
You are stronger, faster, tougher. This is the 'External Path.' The Bureau will find you, and we will teach you to control it."
A reporter raised his hand, but Elder Chen continued, his gaze sweeping over them.
"But there is a limit. A ceiling. For generations, my colleagues and I, the 'hidden families', have trained.
We have pushed our mortal bodies to the absolute peak of what the old world allowed. We have forged our muscles, our tendons, and our very bones."
He lifted his hand. "We... are 'Grandmasters.' Level 4."
He gestured to an aide, who nervously rolled out a small cart. On it sat a single, solid concrete cinder block.
The reporters rustled, cameras flashing.
Elder Chen placed his hand, his old, wrinkled hand, on top of the gray block. He did not punch it. He did not chop it.
He simply... pushed.
Crrrunch.
The cinder block didn't crack. It didn't split. It disintegrated. It collapsed in on itself, crumbling into a pile of gray dust and small pebbles.
The press room was hit with a wave of shocked, involuntary gasps. The only sound was the rapid click-click-click of dozens of cameras.
Elder Chen calmly brushed the gray dust from his palm.
"We, the Grandmasters," he said, his voice the same, calm, authoritative tone, "will serve as the protectors of this new era.
We will train your strongest, and we will defend humanity from the dangers to come. This is our vow."
The press conference exploded into a thousand shouted questions.
In his dark dorm room, Lin Hao watched the feed on his cracked phone screen. He watched the awe on the reporters' faces.
He watched the world's population, in real-time, latch onto this old man as their savior, their protector, the absolute pinnacle of human power.
Elder Chen was, without a doubt, a force of nature. A true Level 4: Bone Forging Grandmaster.
Lin Hao smiled.
He lifted his own hand, the one that hadn't punched a hole in his desk. He focused his mind, drawing on the new, warm power in his blood.
A soft, faint, but very real blue-white light, the light of internal Qi, gathered in his palm.
That old man was a Grandmaster. He could crush stone. He was the peak of the external path.
Lin Hao just smiled, his room lit by the glow of his own energy.
That man was Level 4.
He was already Level 5.