Jason Carter hit the ground hard.
His breath exploded from his lungs as his ribs flared in agony. Panic clawed at his chest, but he swallowed it, eyes stinging from sweat and the taste of blood at the back of his throat. Shame surged first—why hadn't he seen it coming? Then fear, cold and razor-sharp. He'd been here before. And it always hurt.
But this time, beneath the fear, something older stirred.
Something angry.
Pain shot through his ribs like broken glass grinding into bone. His cheek slammed against the cold tile floor of the boys' locker room, the sour stench of sweat, blood, and mold clogging his nose.
Footsteps closed in—heavy, echoing, deliberate.
"You thought you could get away with that, huh?" sneered a voice behind him, thick with hatred. "Little scholarship bitch."
Laughter. Mocking, cruel, like wolves circling a dying deer.
Jason didn't look up. He already knew who they were. Trevor—the rich kid with a God complex. Malik—the muscle. Brandon—the one who always filmed.
The usual audience. The usual show.
This was the third time this month.
But this time, something felt... different.
A sharp pulse behind his eyes. A strange rhythm in his chest. Like a countdown.
Two Months Earlier – Shennongjia, Hubei Province, China
Jason hadn't wanted to go to China. He signed up only because Mr. Abrams said it might help with college applications. "Global perspective," they said. "Cultural exchange."
He had expected temples, overpriced noodles, and group selfies. He hadn't expected Shennongjia.
The forest was ancient—mist-draped, silent, unnervingly still. The guide told stories of mythical beasts, people who vanished, places never mapped.
Most students laughed it off. Jason didn't.
Maybe it was the air. Maybe it was something older.
He wandered. Not far. Just enough.
Then he saw it—
A break in the trees. A place the mist recoiled from.
Curious, Jason pushed through. The forest swallowed him whole.
The ground gave way.
He didn't fall. He was taken.
Branches whipped past. Roots clawed at him. He tumbled into darkness until he slammed into the earth.
When he opened his eyes, he was somewhere else.
The cavern was enormous. The ceiling disappeared into shadow. Crystalline vines clung to the walls, glowing faintly.
At the center stood a stone platform, etched with ancient lines and curves—an enormous circular diagram surrounded by 64 shifting hexagrams, faintly illuminated like circuits under skin.
He approached.
The closer he got, the warmer the air became. Not heat—resonance.
He felt it in his blood.
Jason reached out—but his palm was cut by a sharp edge on the platform. Blood welled up.
It dripped—
—onto the center of the array.
The world stopped breathing.
The air thickened. The diagram lit up like a star map coming online.
"主凶卦:兑为泽.敌性浮动,气机将动,先破气,再破形."
Jason blinked. "Wait—was that Chinese? I don't even speak Mandarin."
"Translating ancient protocol to host language... Output: Predominant hostile force identified. Energetic disruption imminent. Break momentum, then strike form."
"伏羲观象,八卦归元——宿主绑定中."
Jason winced. "Seriously? Still Chinese?"
"系统代号 HEX64——伏羲八卦智能矩阵系统,以六十四卦演演千机."
"System designation: HEX64 — Fuxi Hexagram Intelligence Matrix. Strategic logic derived from 64 primordial patterns of change."
Jason's eyes widened. "What...?"
The voice glitched. Shifted.
"Host linguistic baseline detected: English. Adapting output protocol... transition complete."
"Binding protocol: initiated. Designated system: HEX64. Core logic aligned with Xiantian Eight Trigrams. Host compatibility: 87%. Binding in progress."
Jason staggered backward as symbols swarmed his vision. Numbers, lines, rotating trigrams overlaid with fluid logic diagrams. He clutched his head as a flood of data surged into him.
Pain, then clarity.
Then—
Darkness.
He woke up three days later in a Wuhan hospital. The staff said he'd been dehydrated. The trip leaders said he got lost.
Jason said nothing.
Because the symbols hadn't left. He still saw them—every time he blinked.
And sometimes, when he wasn't thinking, a voice whispered:
"Observe. Calculate. Survive."
Present Day – Locker Room, Chicago
Brandon loomed above him, grinning. "Last chance, Carter. Say sorry. Or I rearrange your face."
Jason's fingers flexed.
He was tired. Not from pain—from pretending he didn't feel it.
He met Brandon's eyes.
Then—
[风卦动,兑泽凶.局势混乱,气场破裂.敌方情绪极度激动,群体围攻概率:83%.]
Jason winced. "Damn it—not again with the Chinese. What does that even mean?"
"Translating tactical trigram output to host language... Output: Wind hexagram active. Dangerous fluctuation in field energy. Opponent emotions unstable. Group assault probability: 83%."
[本地局势全景分析中...]
"Commencing full-field situational scan..."
[五人围成半弧,主攻为布兰登.摄像者:布兰登.配合者:特雷弗（指令者）,马利克（施压者）,其他围观者:两人,未表态.]
"Five hostiles in semicircle formation. Primary aggressor: Brandon. Camera holder: Brandon. Coordinators: Trevor (instigator), Malik (enforcer). Two observers: neutral."
[变量追踪中...录像扩散风险:中.校方干预概率:低.女生关注度波动:小幅上升.]
"Risk projection: Moderate probability of video leak. School interference: Low. Peer interest (female): Minor positive fluctuation."
[建议路径:制造"反击合理性",避免施暴者转为受害者形象.目标:精准压制+语言克制,掌控心理优势.]
"Suggested strategy: Create justification for counterstrike. Avoid role inversion. Objective: Precise dominance with verbal restraint. Secure psychological advantage."
[主击节点:布兰登右腹,马利克左膝,特雷弗心理动摇点.]
"Priority strike points: Brandon—right abdomen. Malik—left knee. Trevor—mental instability marker."
Jason's body moved before he could think.
Brandon swung.
Jason shifted. Elbow snapped forward—sharp, clean, brutal.
Impact.
Brandon folded with a grunt, collapsing to the floor.
[敌首倒地.阵型混乱中,临场判断建议:起身,注视,封口.]
Jason blinked. "You're seriously still doing this in Chinese?"
"Translating... Enemy leader down. Formation disrupted. Recommended action: rise slowly, maintain eye contact, speak no words."
Jason rose, slow and steady, eyes like glass.
The others froze.
[奖励结算中——首次策略反击成功.]
"Reward calculation in progress — First strategic counterstrike: success."
[解锁词条:"势道".宿主权限:LV.0.智慧成长模块预备中.]
"Trait unlocked: 'Shi Dao' — Way of Momentum. Host privilege: Level 0. Cognitive enhancement module pending."
Jason didn't smile.
He calculated.
And for the first time—he wasn't the victim.
He was the variable.
He was the strategist.
Aftermath – Minutes Later
Outside the locker room, the hallway buzzed with whispers. Brandon was still groaning on the floor, but no one dared to help him.
Jason walked past the small crowd, calm, unreadable.
One of the onlookers—Emily Lin, the quiet girl from chemistry—watched him go with widened eyes. Behind her, someone muttered, "Did you see that elbow? He dropped Brandon like a sack of bricks."
Someone else: "Brandon records everyone. Think he caught his own ass-whooping on video?"
Jason caught that. The corner of his mouth almost twitched.
In his mind, HEX64's interface pulsed again.
"Social momentum shift detected. New tag acquired: 'Unpredictable.'"
"Minor charisma stat increase. Opponent intimidation metric rising."
Jason exhaled.
Then smirked.