I arrived in Winteredge City early that morning. Despite the chaos—shopping, riding shady cabs, fighting Rui Feng, and my cover being blown—only a few hours had passed. Now, it was lunchtime.
I slipped back into my hooded windbreaker and headed to eat. Lunch was at the Winteredge Inn. Its restaurant was so lavish it bordered on gaudy, but I’d grown numb to it. To my surprise, Sinan Ying didn’t pester me to join her. Instead, she sat with a stern old man. He glared, beard bristling, as he scolded her in hushed tones. Sinan Ying just sat beside him, looking utterly dejected and silent. That must be Elder Hong. To reprimand the second young mistress like this—he clearly held immense status in the Sinan Family.
I’d expected a fusion of Chinese and Western dishes, but it was authentic Chinese cuisine—fresh, fragrant, and reminiscent of Min flavors. Since I wasn’t paying, I ate heartily until stuffed. These past days taught me that absorbing spiritual energy restored vitality and strengthened my body, yet it did nothing to quell hunger—not even a hint. It seemed impossible to hole up in seclusion without food or water like those cultivation novel protagonists. I wondered if this world had the concept of bigu. In most stories, cultivators at high realms survived solely on spiritual energy. Could that work here? Then again, I didn’t even know what cultivation system existed in this world…
---
“I’m sorry! My reaction was terribly rude!”
I’d planned to apologize properly to Sinan Ying later, but she found me first—with a deep bow. For a noble-born girl to humble herself like this, I couldn’t help but admire the Sinan Family a little more.
“It’s all my fault for barging in without knock—j—”
Ah, I bit my tongue.
Watching her clutch her mouth with a pouty, tearful face melted my heart. All earlier awkwardness vanished. I crossed my arms, feigning anger. “Do you truly realize your mistake?” She nodded frantically. I flashed an evil grin. “Then… how will you prove your sincerity?”
“Prove… sincerity?”
She froze for a moment, then suddenly shielded her chest like she’d spotted a pervert.
“E-even for an apology, I won’t sell my body!”
“Who wants that! I need directions to the library!”
---
“This is it—the biggest library in Winteredge City. Well, ‘biggest’ is relative; it’s just the largest in this industrial town. If you truly love books, visit the Grand Library in the Imperial Capital. That’s where the real collection lies!”
I scanned the rows of bookshelves. This library was small—less than half my university’s—but enough to learn about this world.
“I’m off! Unlike my sister, I can’t stand quiet places stuffed with books. Bye~”
I watched the slender purple-haired figure vanish in the distance. Sinan Ying, this pure-hearted and earnest girl, had helped me so much. Someday, I, Liu, would repay her… if I got the chance.
Alright, time for business.
---
This world, like my old one, understood planets and the cosmos. Its people called their planet “Spirit Star.” Like Earth, it orbited within a vast star system, but details remained hazy—likely due to limited astronomy here.
Spirit Star had three moons—the same trio I’d seen upon waking. Named by color: Golden Moon, Silver Moon, and Orange Moon. Golden Moon was largest, Silver Moon second, Orange Moon smallest. Rough calculations showed Spirit Star’s surface area was four times Earth’s, with oceans covering sixty percent. Incomplete records estimated eighty billion inhabitants—a far lower density than Earth.
Documented ocean coverage and population figures proved Spirit Star’s people had thoroughly mapped their world and managed demographics. Impressive.
Human settlements split into five regions: Eastern Emperor Continent, Western Saint Continent, Southern Spirit Continent, Northern Boundary Continent, and the Central Sea Archipelago—positioned east, west, south, north, and center. Countless smaller enclaves dotted the gaps. Each region brimmed with powerful nations. I was in the Heavens Origin Kingdom on the Eastern Emperor Continent. Heavens Origin dominated the continent—a vast, populous superpower.
Heavens Origin had a tangled history. A millennium ago, it was two warring nations. Centuries of conflict ended in a miraculous merger. A thousand years back, they unified officially, birthing Heavens Origin.
Today, two super clans held its military and political reins: the Sinan Family and Cleone Clan. Descendants of the ancient royal lines, they now supplied the Emperor and Prime Minister. The throne wasn’t hereditary; the most reputable from each clan filled these roles—the Prime Minister both aiding and restraining the Emperor. Yet for a thousand years, the Cleone Clan lagged behind the Sinans. Most Emperors hailed from the Sinan Family, thanks to their detection Anomaly Power.
The deadliest weapon wasn’t nukes or AK-47s—it was information. Knowledge meant death. The Sinans’ detection prowess made them Eastern Emperor Continent’s top intelligence network. By manipulating intel, they mobilized resources instantly and foresaw enemy moves. Legends claimed their strongest patriarch once covered all Heavens Origin with his detection field. So Sinan Ying, the family’s second daughter, lacking any detection Anomaly Power, was a true oddity.
After skimming Heavens Origin’s basics, I turned to my real interest: Anomaly Powers.
Spirit Star teemed with Anomaly Power users—from imperial courts to street corners. Spiritual energy permeated nature; users absorbed it and manifested it uniquely. That “unique form” defined their Anomaly Power. Like trees bearing different fruits from the same soil, users channeled the same spiritual energy into wildly different abilities. No perfect classification existed—types were too numerous, with hybrids muddying the waters.
Shockingly, Spirit Star lacked a formal cultivation system. No realm barriers like “Supreme Realm” or “Battle Saint.” No meridian unblocking. Anomaly Powers strengthened naturally through use. Absorbing spiritual energy required no secret manuals—just relentless practice.
Three factors shaped an Anomaly Power user’s strength. First: the power itself. No ability was absolutely strong, but controlling storms beat managing nose hair length.
Second: training. Hard, smart practice was the simplest path to growth—whether honing the body or the power.
Third: talent. Early strength came from power and training, but talent dictated one’s peak. Some summoned thunderbolts at birth yet never improved. Others started lifting boulders and later moved mountains. Talent was heaven-given, unchangeable. Nearly all users hit a hard limit—progress froze past it. That was the cruel truth.
Anomaly Powers usually appeared randomly, but bloodlines sometimes passed them down. The Sinan Family was one such case—every patriarch wielded detection Anomaly Power. Once awakened, a power lasted a lifetime. A strong one was a blessing; a useless one—like leg hair growing a meter daily—was a curse you couldn’t shake.
Though no cultivation realms existed, a universal ranking system simplified things—like job titles. The “General Test” (GenTest) assessed every Anomaly Power user’s strength. Just like web novels described, academies for users dotted Spirit Star. Most had deep pockets, resources, and connections. The most renowned was the Central Union Academy (CU Academy) in the Central Sea Archipelago. A coalition of archipelago nations founded it, boasting the largest student body and strongest faculty.
