12: Chapter 12, Number One on the Wanted List? I've Become a God!

When Chen Fan was jolted awake by the mechanical voice, the morning light had just climbed onto the window frame.

He scrambled to cover his ears, only to find the sound exploding directly in his mind—

[Server-wide Announcement: Player [Chen Fan] (ID: 007-9527) is suspected of using illegal external forces to interfere with system judgments, triggering [Abnormal Data Fluctuations]. He is now listed on the [High-Risk Player Wanted List].

All New Players can pursue and capture him; the first-kill reward is doubled!]

His temples throbbed as he threw off the thin quilt. The system panel flashed frantically on his retina, with red dot notification sounds like a machine gun: "You have 99+ unread private messages," "System Warning ×7," "Bronze District Forum popularity exceeds one million."

"Fuck," he cursed halfway through, his fingertips trembling as he clicked on the private messages.

The first was an anonymous threat: "You bastard, how dare you steal the system's cake? I'll go claim that first-kill reward tomorrow." The second was an insult: "Illegal players get out of the game." Scrolling to the tenth, the tone suddenly changed: "Was that really you that night?

I heard three explosions at the alley entrance; it sounded like lightning hitting concrete!"; The twenty-third was even more ridiculous: "Brother, taking any apprentices?

Teach me how to land a critical hit!"

"Thud!"

The sound of a tile shattering came from outside the window.

Chen Fan grabbed the iron knife under his pillow and rushed over, only to see Xiao Tao clinging to the windowsill, grass clippings stuck to the ends of her braids, holding a crumpled piece of white paper in her arms: "Brother Fan!

I climbed the wall to copy the rankings!"

She knocked over a bamboo stool as she hopped down, and the white paper slapped onto the Ba Xian Table with a "smack."

Chen Fan leaned in to take a look. The brush calligraphy, with ink still wet, was forceful enough to penetrate the paper: "Top 10 Legends of New Players · Rank 1: Night Alley Tyrant Chen Fan. Record: Three critical hits in one punch, crushed the Bronze Monitor Squad.

Note: The system says he's illegal?

I think the system is just scared!"

"Xiao Tao, your handwriting..." Chen Fan was about to laugh when he looked up and saw Su Shuang leaning against the corridor.

She had changed into a moon-white qipao, a green jade hairpin in her hair, holding a teacup in her hand, but her eyes glinted with a cold light: "The wanted order is the system's fear." The teacup lightly clinked against the table. "What it fears isn't how strong you are, but that you've let those ants kneeling at the system's feet see the possibility of 'winning'."

When the musty smell of the cellar hit him, Chen Fan tightened his grip on the knife handle.

Old Wu was tied to a wooden pillar with thick hemp rope. The greyish-blue scales on the back of his neck were peeling back and oozing blood as he murmured in a daze: "Clearance... is order..."

"What is the child of destiny?

And what is the purge protocol?" Chen Fan knelt down, using the tip of his knife to pull aside Old Wu's blood-stained collar. "Speak clearly, and I'll make sure you suffer less."

Old Wu's cloudy eyes suddenly focused, and he grinned, revealing a blood-stained mouth: "You think the game is an accident?" A metallic grinding sound came from his throat. "Every dungeon, every critical hit... is all within the system's calculations.

It wants souls—clean and pure souls.

But you..." He coughed violently, "you are an 'error' it wants to delete but can't."

Before he could finish, Old Wu's head slumped heavily, and he moved no more.

Chen Fan stood up, gripping his knife. Cold sweat seeped from the stone walls of the cellar—it turned out that from the day he activated the critical hit system, he had become a thorn in the system's program.

"Brother Fan!" Xiao Tao's shout pierced through the cellar's wooden door. "There are so many people gathered at the alley entrance!"

When Chen Fan rushed to the surface, the morning light was piercing through the broken signboard of the Teahouse.

Over a dozen New Players were crowded at the alley entrance. There was the tall, thin guy he knew who had been beaten by Brother Dao, the girl in a school uniform he had saved when a mission failed, and an old man with a bandaged arm, holding a broken bowl and shouting: "Brother Chen, take us in!

Following you, at least we can survive the Bronze Tier!"

"I can't carry you all." Chen Fan frowned. "The system is trying to catch me. Following me is a dead end."

"So what?" The tall, thin guy wiped the dust off his face. "Following the system means death too!

Yesterday my brother was torn apart by wild monsters, and the system didn't even grant him a hot meal!"

The girl in the school uniform gripped the corner of his clothes: "That night I was hiding in the attic and saw you charge up with your knife... What you hit wasn't the Monitor, it was the system's face."

Chen Fan's throat tightened.

Su Shuang stood behind him at some point, with seven celadon cups steaming on a tea tray: "Give them the Demon Fox Tea." Her fingertips brushed the rim of a cup. "Only those who survive can be considered true followers."

The seven people's hands were shaking as they picked up the cups.

Chen Fan watched their faces—the tall, thin guy tilted his head back and drank it all, his Adam's apple bobbing; the schoolgirl took a sip, her eyelashes trembling; the old man licked the teacup and swallowed with a frown.

Three breaths later, the girl in the school uniform suddenly clutched her heart and collapsed, the old man slumped to the ground with his eyes rolling back, and a red-haired youth foamed at the mouth and convulsed.

Chen Fan was about to rush over when Su Shuang pressed his shoulder: "Their constitutions rejected the demonic power; they can't be saved."

The remaining four stood ramrod straight.

The tall, thin guy wiped the tea stains from the corner of his mouth, his eyes shining brilliantly: "This tea... it warms you to the bone."

Chen Fan looked at the three corpses on the ground, then at the four standing.

The system panel suddenly popped up a prompt: [Non-system judgment screening mechanism detected, data anomaly +10%]—it turned out that even the system couldn't decipher Su Shuang's demonic power.

The late-night wind carried the scent of tea onto the roof.

Chen Fan sat on the roof ridge, the bronze bell shard pressed against his chest, feeling hot.

The red light from the forum below reflected on his face. Someone had changed the name: "Tyrant Pavilion · Today's Check-in: 43 people."

"I'm no child of destiny," he whispered to the blood-red system interface. "But since you want to delete me..." He squeezed the bronze bell, the shard burning his palm red. "Then let's see whether you destroy me first, or I flip this chessboard first."

An aurora suddenly cracked across the distant sky, the bluish-purple light band looking like a curtain torn open by a giant hand.

Something moved behind the clouds—it wasn't the system's mechanical optical brain, but something older, more massive, slowly opening its eyes.

The heat from the bronze bell shard seeped through his coarse work clothes into his skin.

Chen Fan gazed at the aurora and heard the light sound of gravel behind him.

He didn't look back, but he knew who it was—it was the faint scent of plum blossoms on Su Shuang, the wind stirred by her fox tail as it swept through the air.

Dawn was coming.