18: Chapter 18 The nod of the mute uncle was more important than anything else.

A corner of Chen Fan's work trousers pocket was flipped up by the wind, causing half a sheet of paper with 'Su Shuang' written on it to flutter loudly.

He dragged his lead-weighted legs out of the construction site, sweat stains on the back of his neck blooming dark marks on his collar—that devastating critical punch that pierced the ground had nearly drained all his strength.

As he passed a pile of cement, several New Players huddled in the corner suddenly took half a step back in unison.

The girl with the ponytail among them swallowed hard, lowering her voice: "That's the one who hit Infinity..."

Another boy wearing glasses pushed up his slipping frame, his fingertips trembling: "I heard the System flagged him as an S-rank threat..."

Chen Fan paused slightly.

He could hear his heart pounding like a drum, not from fear, but from the faint, lingering sting in his chest—when he activated the class token just now, it felt like a nail had been scraped deep into his soul.

He clenched the last class token in his palm; the metal edge dug painfully into his lifeline.

This thing radiated a cold, hard golden light. How could it be a reward?

It was more like a red-hot charcoal piece, drilling into his bones through his flesh.

"Creak—"

The construction site's iron gate suddenly swayed, struck by the wind.

Chen Fan looked up and saw Uncle Ya curled up in a wicker chair inside the gate.

The old man's gray-white hair was blown into a messy tangle, and his usually squinted, cloudy eyes were slightly wide open, moisture seeping into the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

"Uncle," Chen Fan stopped three steps away from him.

He knew Uncle Ya couldn't hear, but he still softened his voice, "I'm back."

Uncle Ya didn't move.

Just as Chen Fan was about to turn away, he saw the old man slowly raise his withered, branch-like hand.

The back of that hand, which had held keys for years, was covered in age spots. It hung in the air now, as if measuring something.

Then, he nodded heavily.

The nod was slow, so slow that Chen Fan could count the movement of the old man's Adam's apple.

The wind at the construction site whipped gravel against his face, and suddenly, his nose burned.

Uncle Ya was the only person at the site not bound by the System. Three years ago, when Chen Fan first started hauling bricks, the old man always scooped an extra half-spoon of braised pork into his lunchbox; last month, during a rainy night when he had a fever, it was Uncle Ya who ran two miles wrapped in plastic sheeting to buy fever medicine.

This silent nod now was heavier than the "∞" that exploded in the server-wide announcement, making his eye sockets burn.

"I have to go now," Chen Fan wiped his face and curved his lips toward Uncle Ya.

The old man's gaze followed his retreating figure until he rounded the street corner. Only then did he shrink back into the wicker chair, his thin fingers lightly tapping his chest—a faded work ID was pinned there, and the young worker in the photo resembled Chen Fan by seventy percent.

The lantern of the Frost Moon Teahouse swayed into a patch of warm yellow in the twilight.

The moment Chen Fan pushed the door open, the steaming aroma of tea mixed with the smell of medicine rushed out to greet him.

"Chen Fan!" Xiao Tao rushed out from the back hall carrying a bowl of medicine, the bottom of the celadon bowl hitting the doorframe with a loud "thud."

The girl's already round eyes were swollen into two red cherries. "Y-you, why are you only back now? Sister Su said your soul..."

"Xiao Tao," a crisp female voice came from the inner room.

Su Shuang leaned against the back of the sandalwood counter. Her plain white qipao outlined her slender waist, but the silver hairpin in her hair radiated a cold light.

The fox tattoo at the corner of her eye was so faint it was almost invisible, but Chen Fan knew that faint pink would turn scorching if she became angry.

As he approached, Su Shuang suddenly reached out and gripped his wrist.

The moment her fingertips touched his skin, she frowned: "The crack is deeper."

Chen Fan looked down at the back of his hand.

The faint blue lines, originally only the size of a fingernail, now crawled along his veins toward his elbow, like a sinister little snake.

He managed a wry smile: "Ten times critical hit, right? There has to be a price. Last time, Bronze Novice quest gave double damage, and it only caused a hairline fracture; this time, hitting Infinity..."

"Sit down," Su Shuang tugged him toward the seating area. The silver hairpin in her hair sliced through the air, bringing with it a faint scent of fox musk.

She took out a piece of translucent bone shard from a hidden compartment in the counter. Fine runes were carved onto its surface. "I ground this from the last piece of frost soul Bone in my clan."

The instant the bone shard touched Chen Fan's chest, he shivered.

A chill drilled from his skin down to his marrow. The soul crack actually narrowed with a faint "hiss," as if glued back together.

Su Shuang's fingertips pressed against his collarbone, and the fox tattoo glowed faintly with her movement: "Critical hits don't come without a cost. Every time it doubles, the System hammers another nail into your soul. If this continues..." She suddenly stopped, and the light on the bone shard dimmed. "You'll become the next Master Shi."

Xiao Tao's hand, holding the ointment, trembled, and the ceramic spoon "clattered" as it fell into the bowl.

Chen Fan remembered Master Shi. He had seen the old Player in the Newbie Village last month; the man looked like a dried-out shadow puppet, his joints clicking "Kaka" when he walked. Later, he heard Master Shi triggered a twenty-times critical hit while trying to reach Silver rank—the grass on his grave was already half as tall as a person.

"Brother, stop risking your life..." Xiao Tao sniffled and pushed the ointment over. The ointment was mixed with mint, cool and refreshing. "We were afraid you wouldn't come back."

The hand Chen Fan used to take the ointment paused.

He looked at the teardrops clinging to Xiao Tao's eyelashes and suddenly remembered the year he first started at the construction site, crying in a corner after the foreman withheld his wages, and Uncle Ya slipped him a piece of hard candy.

The feeling of being cared for was sweet.

"Ding—"

The System notification sound exploded above his head.

Chen Fan's Player Bracelet lit up with blue light, and the projection of the server-wide announcement cast pale green text onto the rafters of the Teahouse:

[New Player Rankings Updated]

[Chen Fan, Current Rank: 487th, Class: Warrior Class (Server Unique)]

"Holy crap!" Xiao Tao rushed to the window to check the announcement, "Brother, you're on the forums!" She shook her phone, displaying scorching red headlines—"Warrior class token Only Appears Once, He's Now a Collector's Item!" "Brick Hauling God, Truly Deserved."

The video playback count of the streamer Little Honey was jumping wildly. The moment he punched through the ground was shown in slow motion, the bullet comments scrolling by denser than a heavy rainstorm.

But Chen Fan's palm suddenly burned.

He reached into his pocket; the class token was scorching his skin through the fabric.

He pulled it out. Faint red script had appeared on the metal surface, as if written in blood: [Soul Binding in Progress... Countdown: 72:00:00]

"Damn it!" Chen Fan jumped up abruptly, knocking over a teacup with a "clatter." "This isn't a reward... it's a shackle!"

Su Shuang's fingertips pressed down on the class token.

Her fox tattoo suddenly glowed brightly, reflecting a faint blue onto the bone shard: "The System is using the class token to screen for 'High-Value Batteries.' The stronger you are, the harder it sucks." She looked up at him, the fox tattoo at the corner of her eye surging to a deep pink with her emotion. "But you have our clan's Resonance Mark." She drew a line across his arm—a faint pink pattern had appeared there at some point, identical to her fox tattoo. "It can delay the consumption. From now on, whenever you trigger a critical hit, you must come for tea."

Chen Fan stared at the pattern on his arm.

When he activated the class token just now, the lingering bell vibrated three times in his chest. It turned out Su Shuang's bloodline had quietly seeped into his skin then.

He clenched the class token, the metal edge pressing red marks into his palm: "I can risk my life, but I can't do it for nothing."

The roof tiles of the Teahouse were cool late at night.

Chen Fan squatted on the blue tiles, the lingering bell swaying lightly in his palm, emitting a faint "ding-dong."

The lights of the distant Newbie Village looked like scattered stars, but he knew that in the darkness, something far more dangerous was approaching.

The server-wide announcement sounded again, this time the mechanical voice colder than usual: [New Players Please Note: The Warrior class token has been recalled. Subsequent dungeons will open the [Mage Class]...]

Chen Fan sneered.

He touched the class token in his embrace—after suppressing it with Su Shuang's bone shard, the countdown had stopped at 71:59:30.

The System wanted to recall it?

Too late.

"Buzz—"

The fox tattoo on his chest suddenly grew hot.

Chen Fan snapped his head up, his gaze piercing the night, locking onto a derelict utility pole three hundred meters away.

A faint blue light was slowly moving there, like a dormant eye.

He pulled out the iron piece from his embrace—it was pried from the Zombie King's mechanical core and still carried a scorched, rusty smell.

The wind lifted the corner of his clothes, and the frequency of the lingering bell's vibration grew faster.

"Come on," he murmured, his voice mixing with the wind and scattering into the night. "My critical hits are in need of a whetstone."

Inside the house, Uncle Ya's old radio suddenly crackled to life.

Amidst the static, a broken nursery rhyme drifted out: "Red light shines, the soul departs, big brother come hold my hand..."

Chen Fan looked down at the lingering bell in his palm.

It had started to heat up at some unknown time, branding a shallow mark onto his lifeline.

The fox tattoo on his chest flickered with the bell's vibration, like a fire that wouldn't blaze strongly, or a bomb ready to explode.

He looked at the distant blue light and smiled.