Rustle—

A warm summer breeze swept through, rustling leaves and startling tiny creatures in the grass.

When Mujin opened her eyes, the world had utterly transformed.

She found herself in a forest where no plant was green. Leaves in shadow glowed deep rose, while sunlit ones blazed vibrant purple.

A sea of purplish-red filled her vision.

Her round eyes scanned the scene, shock flooding her heart.

Where am I?!

[Punishment complete. Congratulations on successful transformation.]

The inner prompt jolted her memory.

Right!

She’d failed her mission and faced punishment.

And that punishment was…

Turning into a Sparrow!?

Mujin snapped fully awake.

She lifted her hand—only to find a feathered wing instead.

Holy crap, I’m actually a sparrow now!?

System, what the hell? When do I change back!?

Past punishments had time limits; this should too.

[Apologies, Host. This is Level 5—the highest penalty. Indefinite duration. Revert via ‘Transformation Pill’ in the Points Store.]

Yes, this System offered more than wishes—it had a Points Store. Daily check-ins and tasks earned points.

But she’d browsed it endlessly and never spotted a Transformation Pill.

Mujin opened the search bar, struggling to tap letters with her wingtip.

Typing had been smooth with fingers; now, it felt like elementary school drills.

OK, finally done!

She clicked search, eyes lighting up.

Product: Transformation Pill

Effect: Become any imaginable species, customizable details. (One-time use. Vanishes after activation. Do not use unprepared.)

Great—it really exists!

Mujin sighed in relief.

Good thing she’d chosen option B over fencing with Zhou Ruiyang.

This was practically no punishment at all.

The little Sparrow held her head high, eyes crinkling with joy.

But the moment she clicked redeem, her eyes widened. Beads of sweat seemed to form on her tiny head.

Th… thirty thousand points!?

One pill costs thirty thousand points!?

After endless tasks, she’d saved barely a few hundred. Even [Michelin-Level Cooking Mastery] cost just five hundred.

Thirty thousand was astronomical.

System, are you jacking up prices to screw with me!?

[No. This pill transforms users into higher life forms—aliens, mythical beings. Thirty thousand points: no scams, no regrets.]

Mujin closed the store page, helpless.

She seethed at the System but dared not rage.

It could summon four-dimensional space or turn her into prey. Anger it, and she might die.

Since she couldn’t revert yet, Mujin needed a plan.

First: Where was she? Q City or some unknown realm?

She tried walking, but her tiny claws only hopped.

Light and agile, yes—but she stood shorter than the grass. At this pace, escape would take ages.

Being a bird was such a hassle.

Hmm? Wait.

The Sparrow tilted her head.

Right! Birds fly!

Mujin flapped her wings. Her body lifted easily, gliding smoothly after a few tries.

Instinct took over—like human walking, no teaching needed.

Her view rose to a meter high, matching her human height.

Higher up, fear crept in.

Humans rarely feared their own height, but a half-meter ledge could terrify some.

Flying this high—if she slipped, she’d splatter.

Maybe birds shouldn’t be this smart. This Sparrow worried about things no bird ever considered.

Tension broke her rhythm. She plummeted, flapping wildly to cushion the landing.

The clumsy Sparrow crashed down, eyes squeezed shut.

Flying was terrifying. She’d rather be a ground chicken.

She opened her eyes—locking gazes with another pair.

A flat head. Round, slit-pupiled eyes. A forked tongue flicking out.

Holy crap—a snake!?

The serpent’s head loomed massive, its gaze hungry.

Mujin had feared snakes as a human; now, as a Sparrow, terror doubled.

She scrambled up, hopping frantically to flee.

But the green snake lunged, refusing to lose its meal.

Panic made her legs buckle. She tumbled—accidentally dodging the strike.

The serpent soared overhead, making her feathers stand on end.

No hesitation. Mujin flapped hard, soaring skyward.

Scenery blurred below. She glanced back and gasped.

She hovered twenty to thirty meters high. Below lay a scenic mountain area in Q City—somewhere she’d visited with roommates.

Her avian vision painted everything in soft pink hues, transforming the familiar landscape.

Mujin breathed relief.

At least the System hadn’t dumped her in Madagascar.

But as she relaxed, gazing down, a new dread struck.

How… how would she land?