[Pioneer's Vision (The Only)]
Attributes: All title effects can stack."Remember the one who dared to step into the unknown."
"Pioneer's Vision" was more than just a title—it was a miracle, and a curse.
It granted no direct bonus. No strength, no agility. Nothing flashy. But unlike every other title, which could only be equipped one at a time, this one let the wearer stack all title effects.
In a world where even a minor title could change life and death, this ability made Wang Xian uniquely dangerous.
And it made him a target.
He recalled one of the most absurd—but sought-after—titles of the past:[Flat Fall]. Earned by a thirteen-year-old girl simply because she had a habit of tripping and falling… a lot.
The title's effect?
Cannot be knocked down or launched into the air in combat.
In PvP, that was gold. Players risked everything for the slightest advantage. Some warriors trained for years to achieve that level of balance—and this girl had gained it by falling on her face.
The revelation sparked a bizarre craze. Warriors, elites, streamers—even guild leaders—threw themselves to the ground over and over again in hopes of earning the title. City streets turned into slapstick war zones of people face-planting at random.
But it never worked.
In the end, it seemed only certain people—maybe only certain personalities—could unlock that kind of title. And [Flat Fall] became infamous as the "Exclusive Loli Title."
BOOM.BOOM.BOOM.
The iron gate of the farm shook with urgent pounding.
Wang Xian turned, pulse tightening.
No enemies… not yet.
He opened the door and saw his parents—breathless, wide-eyed, panic written all over their faces.
"Son," his father said, voice trembling. "What's going on? There are… words appearing on everything. And my body—" he flexed his arms—"it feels… different. Lighter. Stronger."
His mother's voice was softer, worried: "Xiao Xian… this isn't normal, is it?"
Wang Xian's expression hardened.
"Come in. Quickly."
He pulled them into the safety of the farm and shut the gate with a heavy clang.
"Follow me."
He led them to the breeding room. A metallic stink hung in the air—something between old soil and something burning. The earthworms inside had changed. Their bodies twitched unnaturally, swollen and pulsing under glistening skin. They weren't animals anymore.
They were monsters.
He handed the iron shovel to his father.
"Don't ask questions. Just start swinging. Hit the worms until the noise stops."
His father looked from the tool to the pit, stunned. "What—"
"Trust me."
Still unsure, his father raised the shovel. The moment the blade slammed into the first worm, a wet crack echoed in the room. The earthworm let out a shrill, squelching screech before it burst into flickering fragments of light.
"Ding! Killed Level 0 wild monster: Earthworm. Gained 1 EXP."
His father froze mid-swing.
"Keep going," Wang Xian ordered, voice sharp. "Ignore the sounds. Just swing until it stops."
With a grunt, his father pressed on, driving the iron shovel into the soil again and again. Each hit squashed another writhing creature into squelching pulp and glowing particle dust. The room filled with crunches, splats, and the soft pings of system notifications.
Wang Xian watched silently as his father transformed—not just through levels, but in spirit. His strikes became faster, more precise. Cold.
A few minutes later, the notifications stopped.
Level 3.
His father turned, panting, arms slick with sweat, bits of worm entrails spattered on his sleeves.
Wang Xian took the shovel and offered it to his mother.
She hesitated, horror in her eyes. "You want me to…?"
"You have to. We need strength to survive now. This world doesn't care if you're scared. Only if you're weak."
Under the weight of his gaze, she took the shovel with trembling hands.
At first, her swings were timid. Hesitant. But as the worms squirmed and twitched beneath her blows, something shifted. Her expression hardened. Her strikes grew faster. Louder.
A feral rhythm filled the room.
After several minutes, she stepped back, breathing hard, arms shaking—not from fear, but exertion.
Both parents: Level 3.
Their eyes shone with something Wang Xian hadn't seen in years—vitality. They looked younger, stronger.
"Feel different?" he asked.
His father nodded. "Like I've dropped twenty years."
"I feel like I could run a marathon," his mother said, stunned. "What the hell is going on, son?"
"It's real. The world's been digitized. Stats, levels, monsters—it's not a game. It's our new reality."
He walked them through the system:
"Say 'Open Status Panel' in your mind. It'll ask for a nickname. Doesn't have to be real. Then go into settings—top right—and change the visibility option so others can't see your info."
Ten minutes later, light-blue status screens hovered before both of them. Free attribute points were distributed. Understanding began to dawn on their faces.
Then, suddenly—his dad flipped backward into the air and landed perfectly on both feet.
Wang Xian and his mom stared at him.
"…What?" his dad said innocently.
"You've been hiding ninja skills all these years?" Wang Xian asked, stunned.
His dad laughed, clearly enjoying his newfound vitality.
His mom still looked worried.
"Xiao Xian… this isn't something natural. Are you sure it's not aliens?"
Wang Xian raised an eyebrow. "Aliens? Really?"
She smacked him lightly on the head. "Don't treat your mother like some tech-illiterate old woman. I've watched sci-fi movies too. This feels like one of those online games you always used to play."
He blinked. "You know about online games?"
She folded her arms. "Your mom knows more than you think."
He grinned. "Clearly."
"Dad, Mom… things are going to get worse from here. Those worms won't give any more experience now. We need stronger monsters."
He gestured toward another door. "The southeast room. I used to raise mice there. They're different now."
"Got it," his dad said immediately, grabbing the iron shovel and heading off without hesitation.
"Mice?" his mom asked, flinching.
"They're stronger," Wang Xian said. "But we can form a party. Dad and I will fight, and you'll still gain EXP just by being nearby."
"You can do that?" she asked, surprised.
"I didn't want to overload you at first."
In the dim room beyond, the air was thick and stale. The mutated mice—oversized, with red eyes and patchy fur—scrambled through the hay, hissing like demons.
They struck fast and hard.
Wang Xian and his father fought side by side, iron shovels crashing down on twisted spines and shattered skulls. The monsters screeched in pain as they burst into digital shards. Blood soaked the straw.
His mother stood behind them, watching, leveling.
By the time the last mouse fell, all three of them were Level 5. The room was a graveyard of corpses.
"Son," his dad said, gripping the blood-slick shovel with a strange gleam in his eye, "got anything else I can kill?"
Wang Xian looked at him.
"…Have you unlocked some kind of battle freak trait or something?"