5:40 PM the next day.
It was Wednesday. With a 4-to-6 PM class tonight, Zhou Ruiyang hadn’t shown up yet.
But even without him, Mujin’s life stayed packed.
She’d been busy since dawn, clearing multiple tasks already.
To regain her human form sooner, she pushed hard. In just half a month, she’d racked up 16% progress.
Don’t be fooled by her current speed though. This System’s trick was splitting tasks into five tiers. Every 20% jump meant tougher missions—and stingier rewards.
Still, the System had one perk: clearing each tier granted generous bonuses.
Her last task hit 62% completion, netting three rewards: [Academic Mastery], [Artistic Mastery], and [Voice Mimicry].
[Voice Mimicry] was the most useless. She’d hoped to imitate any voice, only to find it locked to preset female tones. Since she already sounded like a girl? Totally pointless.
[Artistic Mastery] unlocked Mujin’s full creative potential. Dancing, singing, painting—she grasped them all with uncanny talent. That’s why her dance moves stunned everyone.
But [Academic Mastery] was insane. How insane?
Even after missing a whole semester’s classes, she could cram everything on the final day—and still ace every exam.
Mujin couldn’t wait to see what Tier 1’s reward would be.
【New task acquired! Dance on a park bench for at least two minutes within thirty minutes. Success: 0.1% progress, 5 points. Failure: Level 1 punishment.】
*Damn it!*
Such a tiny progress boost? So you’ve decided I’m totally cool with dancing in public now?
Mujin almost refused.
Level 1 punishment barely scared her anyway—about as painful as a flick on the forehead.
But she had to do it.
She’d only taken one semester off. To turn human again, she *had* to make it within these hundred-odd days!
She zipped from her nest to a park bench and started swaying her head smoothly.
“Look! That dancing sparrow’s back!”
“Quick, hold my stuff—I’m recording!”
Tourists buzzed with excitement.
Ever since Zhou Ruiyang started bringing her meals, she rarely performed here.
Oddly, becoming a bird shrank her body but thickened her skin.
Before, she’d never dare dance so freely in public—even though she knew how.
Wearing the mask of a sparrow had, ironically, liberated her human nature.
After two minutes of swaying, the System chimed.
【Ding! Task complete. Accept next task? Reply “Accept” or “Reject” mentally.】
*Accept!*
【Task acquired: Park Battle Royale!】
Mujin froze.
*Park Battle Royale? What the—*
【A mysterious bird-catcher is hunting in the park. Evade capture. Success: 5% progress, 100 points. Failure: …】 The System dragged out the pause.
*Failure what?* Mujin pressed.
【You’ll be caught by the bird-catcher.】
*Well, duh…*
【Don’t underestimate this. My punishments never kill you. But a bird-catcher? That could end you for real.】
*Yeah, yeah. Not underestimating.*
Mujin scoffed inwardly.
Ordinary sparrows might fall for their traps.
But she was a *human* sparrow—a smart sparrow!
Their silly tricks? Child’s play.
She spread her wings, gliding slowly toward home.
Flying over the woods, she spotted a bamboo basket trap on the ground.
Classic sparrow-catching move: scatter millet, prop the basket with a stick, yank the string when birds land to eat.
*Seriously? Do dumb sparrows actually fall for this?*
As if on cue, a tiny sparrow fluttered down to peck at the millet.
*Snap!* The string pulled. The basket slammed shut, trapping the bird inside.
“Gotcha!”
A man in ragged camouflage burst from the trees.
Mid-forties, crew cut—utterly ordinary.
He pried the basket open just enough to snatch the sparrow, shoving it roughly into a black backpack.
Then he looked up.
Straight into Mujin’s eyes.
A slow, sinister grin spread across his face.
*Holy crap. This guy’s terrifying.*
Mujin shuddered mid-air.
A flicker of real fear crept in.
*Nope. Time to bolt home. Now.*
Nothing felt safer than her own nest.
She sped toward it—then skidded to a halt, eyes wide.
Her nest entrance was webbed with nearly invisible threads.
So fine even bird eyes missed them from afar.
Thank goodness she flew slower than most sparrows. A faster bird would’ve crashed right in.
She pushed the net with her wing. It didn’t budge.
Like trying to shove a human-sized security gate.
*That bastard set traps at my HOME?!*
*May spiders weave webs on your doorstep!*
Seething, she carefully pecked at the threads.
Her beak was sharp. The net was tough—but not unbreakable.
After frantic effort, she gnawed a small hole.
Inside the nest, she saw the net was anchored with industrial-strength duct tape.
No wonder it held firm. Even as a human, tearing that tape off was a pain.
*Wait.*
*Sparrow?*
Mujin froze.
Why would a bird-catcher use *duct tape* for sparrows?
And pros set traps in open woods—not single nests. What if it was abandoned? Catching one bird wasn’t worth the effort.
Unless…
*They’re hunting ME.*
A chill shot down her spine.
“Huh. The net’s torn. How ’bout that.”
A stranger’s voice rasped behind her.
She whirled around.
A bloodshot eye glared through the hole—locked onto hers.
“Chirp!!”
