The world Noan lived in was painfully ordinary.
Concrete buildings stretched endlessly across the horizon.
Traffic noise never stopped. People woke up, worked, complained, slept—and repeated the same cycle every day.
There were no immortals.
No hidden sects.
No spiritual energy.
At least… that's what everyone believed.
Noan was sixteen years old, a second-year high school student.
He wasn't outstanding, nor was he a failure. His grades were average. His presence was quiet. If he didn't come to class one day, most people wouldn't even notice.
But inside, he was different.
While other students spent their time on games or social media, Noan read cultivation novels.
Every night.
Every day.
Stories about mortals rising to immortality. About weak boys becoming gods. About systems, spirit roots, heavenly tribulations, and endless power.
To others, it was entertainment.
To Noan, it was something else.
Possibility.
His Life
Noan lived with his parents and his younger sister in a small apartment.
His father worked long hours at a private company. He rarely spoke and came home exhausted every night.
His mother managed the house and occasionally took part-time work to support the family.
His younger sister, Mira, was twelve. She was cheerful, talkative, and completely opposite to him.
Their family wasn't poor, but they weren't comfortable either. Every expense was calculated. Every decision was practical.
There was nothing special about their life.
And that was exactly what Noan hated.
He didn't hate his family.
He hated the feeling of limitation.
Every day, teachers talked about exams. Relatives talked about careers. Society talked about stability.
Study. Graduate. Get a job. Earn money. Grow old.
That was the path prepared for him.
A path with a clear beginning.
And a very predictable end.
The Difference
At school, Noan rarely spoke.
Not because he was shy.
Because conversations felt meaningless.
While others argued about movies or cricket matches, he wondered about something else.
Why is the world so small?
Sometimes, during class, he would stare out of the window at the sky.
If cultivation existed…
If spiritual energy existed…
If humans could break their limits…
Then life wouldn't feel so suffocating.
That thought stayed with him every day.
Night
Night was the only time he felt alive.
After everyone slept, he would lie on his bed, phone in hand, reading chapter after chapter.
Cold-eyed protagonists. Ruthless growth. Endless struggle.
He didn't like the lucky ones.
He respected the ruthless ones.
Those who climbed step by step.
Those who paid the price.
After finishing a chapter one night, he locked his phone and stared at the ceiling.
The room was dark. Silent.
He whispered softly, as he always did:
"If there is a system… choose me."
He wasn't joking.
He wasn't dreaming.
He meant every word.
Because more than power—
He wanted escape.
The Feeling
That night felt different.
The air was heavier.
The silence was deeper.
Even his breathing sounded loud.
Noan frowned slightly.
Then he shook his head.
"Just imagination."
He closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Outside the window, clouds covered the sky.
For a brief moment—
The streetlights flickered.
And the darkness seemed to grow deeper.