Data-Driven Daoist

"Jie Tong, that snake,” Li Yao said, “He escaped.”

“You know him?” Yu Han asked. Both boys were in gangs, so that wasn’t strange. Still, small world.

“There’s no kid in the Riversong underworld that doesn’t know about the Jie twins. They’ve been lying low for a while. It wasn’t until you blabbered about your “good brother Jie Tong” that I realised what he was up to.” Li Yao waved a piece of paper in front of Yu Han.

It was the rock-tied letter someone from the crowd had thrown at Li Yao.

“You’re one vindictive son of a bow. What did he do to you?” Li Yao asked. “You ruined him.”

“He did this to my nose,” Yu Han said. If Elder Brother was alive, would Jie Tong try the same thing? He’d always looked up to him. Or pretended to.

No changing a snake. Yu Han was one, though he bit people more through numbers and fine print than physical daggers.

“No wonder,” Li Yao said, shaking his head. He tapped the fencing on the bulwark in a peculiar rhythm. “They got his sister first.”

“So she’s dead?” Yu Han asked. He felt a slight pang. Jie Hua didn’t try to kill him—she was always kind.

“Don’t feel bad, tubs. She’s a vicious bitch,” Li Yao said. “Works with poison. And, well, they got her another way. Probably still alive, knowing those two. They’re like cockroaches.”

“You mean…” Yu Han paled and gripped the railing hard. What was done was done.

“The moment the Bloody Grass execs heard of your little tantrum, they knew the Jie siblings would be hot potatoes. So one exec knocked her out while she was in the middle of a job. He and his goons had their way with her, if you know what I mean.”

“Better if she died.”

“I disagree, tubs. If you’re alive, you can always get back at them. See the shock on their face as you pull out the dagger.” Li Yao patted Yu Han’s back like they had known each other for years. “That’s what Jie Hua did while the guy was pulling his tiny dagger out, get me? This guy had been courting Jie Hua for years, but I guess love turned to hate in front of coin. They were taking turns and thought she was out cold, but the bitch had a trump card. And when it was the exec’s turn again, she used it. She was too weak after that, though, and the rest gave her a vicious beatdown. Didn’t kill her, though. She was worth a lot. Jie Tong killed them somehow, then escaped with a horse.”

“How do you know all this?” Yu Han asked. It hadn’t been many hours since Yu Han set Jie Tong up and the letter was delivered to Li Yao.

The other boy grinned, his scar stretching, though it made him look oddly friendly. “We’re rats. We hide and peek. Don’t worry about them for now. We’ll be dragons henceforth. Cultivators! Don’t you feel the power after that, what was it, Heavenly Allocation thing? What can two vengeful mortals do, throw sand at us?”

“Don’t underestimate sand, Li Yao. It’s effective.”

The living quarters were one floor down, same floor as the mess hall and kitchen. It occupied the area right below the captain’s quarters in the aft of the ship.

“This ship is bigger than a luxury liner,” Yu Han gasped. Li Yao had decided that they’d share the same cabin. It was part of a bigger wardroom, with nine other cabins in this one, and over ten wardrooms in total. Only the shabbiest wardrooms had recruits living in them, the best still empty.

“A what now?” Li Yao asked. He marvelled at a candle that had lit by itself.

“Nothing, just talking to myself.” That was a slip of the tongue. Yu Han did not trust Li Yao. Better be careful about stuff from the real world. Or at least mumble in English.

Li Yao jumped onto the bed. “Damn fine feather. Cultivators are rich. You think Qiao Jinhai owns all of this, or his sect does?”

“Maybe both. He said we were sect property. Might mean he’s sect property too. And anything he owns,” Yu Han said. He sat down on his bed slowly. His back cracked, and there was a strange pull on the left side of his neck. ℟Á₦ỒＢÊ𐌔

It. Fucking. Hurt.

“You need to lose that?” Li Yao said with a grin.

“Lose what?” Yu Han said.

Li Yao gestured at all of him.

Yu Han clenched his fist. If he could, he would punch that grin in. Johan didn’t care about feelings, but Yu Han had been mocked all his life for his body.

It didn’t feel good.

But Li Yao was right. Swimming had increased his endurance substat. That meant that in this world, at least for cultivators, one could see improvements in bodily parameters as numerical representations.

And Johan was great with parameters that had numerical representations. He could put it on a spreadsheet.

“Gonna get some food.” Li Yao jumped up. “Keep that dagger close, tubs.” With that, he was off.

Yu Han blew out the candle. Only the moon and starlight leaked in through the circular window, alongside the sound of water splashing against the ship’s hull.

There was a quiet murmur from somewhere. Dinner was served all night long. Luxurious.

Yu Han heaved his weight up the bed. Even such a minor task seemed herculean now. Then how the hell was he going like a machine the whole day? Cultivator bullshit?

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“I’m really… here now.” He stared at the ceiling. A tear welled up, but he hurriedly wiped it away.

His new life had begun. His old had ended with the snap of a finger, no explanations given. What was that green meteor? Why did that hooded man kill Yu Han’s family without provocation?

Whether it was Yu Han or Johan, neither had any answers. They would live as one. As a cultivator.

Maybe if they became strong enough one day, they could rip the fabric of reality off like the protagonists did in the stories, and see if this world really was a virtual reality experiment.

Until then, he needed sleep. It had been a long day.

***

Yu Han found himself standing in a white space. Above, there was a ceiling that looked like the inside of a clam’s shell. It had some darker greys lining the ridges. Under his feet, the ground was soft and pillowy in some places, and hard-like asphalt in others.

“Is this the waiting screen?” Yu Han said out loud. “Logout! Help! Report error!”

Nothing.

Maybe it was the hub area or lobby, the designated “safe zone” between missions? Where were the NPCs? He wouldn’t mind some kind of immortal master in his dreams or… anything, really.

“Hello?”

Not even crickets.

“Did I transmigrate again? Are you guys gonna put me in another VR game? Status!”

Name: Yu Han (Johan)

Level: 0

True Qi: 0/110

Pure Qi: 50/110

[Body Origin: 5.00]

[Spirit Origin: 7.80]

[Mind Origin: 10.80]

Yu Han sat down. It was the same game.

He pinched his cheeks. It hurt—so it wasn’t adream.

“Think,” he told himself. “What happened? Analyse the series of events.”

He was in pain. He’d blown out the candle. He cried, just a bit. Then he’d fallen asleep.

“Gather the key words. Try to find a match.”

The cultivator from Stormy Reef Sect, Qiao Jinhai. He sounded like an arrogant prick, but not a prankster. He wouldn’t gain anything by doing this.

Think back further!

Yu Han “awakened” his spirit root and memories as Johan in the middle of dying. The hooded man had stolen his clam necklace. Was that some kind of mystical treasure that caused his spirit root to activate? The other candidates like Li Yao only saw the floating characters after touching the orb.

I have to ask him if we see the same things, and if he can bring it up on command.

Speaking of clams, though…

Yu Han brought up his traits.

Traits:

[Existential Anchor]

Mortal Level 1

[Deep Writhing Clam Bloodline]

Mortal Level 10

[Qi Affinity]

Mortal Level 7

Deep Writhing Clam Bloodline. That clam necklace definitely had something to do with his awakening. And Qiao Jinhai had mentioned something else. Bloodline art.

Arts:

[Deep Sleep]

Type: Bloodline

Mortal Level 1

Initial Step Level 1

Deep Sleep. Was this what it meant?

“I’m lucid when asleep?” Was this his special ability? Being trapped alone in a white void while his mind should be resting?

Losing sleep was no joke! Johan was the type who couldn’t give a shit about sleep if it meant working more hours, first during his PhD, then in the company. That had lasted until he started losing his gains. Several podcast episodes on sleep later, it was his new favourite hobby!

And now his special bloodline superpower was losing sleep.

“Don’t panic. Don’t jump to conclusions.” Yu Han slapped his cheek. Yup, still hurt.

There were positives too. He would effectively have twice the time of most people. Well, in the stories, cultivators didn’t need food or sleep when they were strong enough.

Maybe in the long run, that would negate any advantage his Deep Sleep Art would provide—if this really was caused by Deep Sleep.

He concentrated on the words.

[Deep Sleep]

Type: Bloodline

Grade: Mortal Level 1

Mastery: Initial Step Level 1

True Qi: 0/200

Nothing changed. It had Deep in the name, so it wasn’t a bad guess that it was related to Deep Writhing Clam Bloodline.

“But Writhing Clams… what even are they? Qiao Jinhai was not impressed. Are they some kind of monsters, like that dog-thing?”

A clam is a clam. In Yellow Tongue, a writher is anything that has tentacles, like squids, octopuses, nautiluses. Basically cephalopods. Combine them… and what?

Their family had two heirlooms. The clam necklace and the booklet. If the clam was special, maybe the booklet was too?

Yu Han had it in his pocket before falling asleep. He reached inside.

It was empty. He didn’t bring it inside his dream. For a second, his enthusiasm waned.

“Wait a minute. If I didn’t have the booklet, why do I have my clothes on?”

As he said that, something felt heavy in his pocket. He reached inside again, and there it was, the booklet! It was fuzzy and blurry, as if glitching. He traced the edges and felt the pressure of his fingers against the paper. The texture, the scent—without a doubt, it was his family heirloom.

“This… could be useful.”

Suddenly, more text appeared in front of his eyes.

Requirements Met!

Auxiliary Art Learned!

Echoing Dreamscape (-> Existential Anchor, Deep Sleep)

“Oh my god. Game-master, I’ll give you a million dollars. Just let me out of this hellhole!” Yu Han yelled into the white space. “Ten million? I’ll even throw in the Nexus Assurance name for the trials!”

Still no reply.

“Fine, have it your way, jerks.”

Unlike other VRMMO games, the Arts and Traits here—were they skills?—didn’t have any descriptions. A lot could be gleaned from names.

“Dreamscape.” The system message had the line:

Echoing Dreamscape (-> Existential Anchor, Deep Sleep)

So this new Auxiliary Art had something to do with Deep Sleep, the Bloodline art, and Existential Anchor, a Trait which was bugged out in the screen with a “Requirements not satisfied” message.

“If this landscape is a dream, what can it echo?” What was an echo? It was a reverberation of a sound. A reflection of reality. A parallel, a fake.

Yu Han imagined Jie Tong standing four feet away. A mirage of a boy appeared, holding a blurry stick that vaguely resembled a dagger.

“A dead man shouldn’t speak!” a distant voice called. The mirage faded a second later, passing through Yu Han as if charging.

He felt a slight prick on his nose where the dagger had stabbed in real life, but no sensation elsewhere on his body.

Yu Han tried again. With the Guard Commander, Bushy Beard, Head Chef, Sima Yan, Li Yao, Qiao Jinhai. With each iteration, the reflections got clearer, though they still only lasted seconds.

“I can echo what I’ve seen in reality,” Yu Han murmured. “And echo only the sensations that occurred in real life. If Jie Tong’s dagger stabs my chest, I feel nothing. But on my nose, it hurts—though the pain is muted, as if felt through an illusion.”

Was it eidetic, the details true to nanoscale? Or was it like actual dreams, Yu Han’s brain interpolating the gaps in memory, just like how missing values were filled in using mean imputation?

Yu Han concentrated on his hands. A piece of yellow paper and a brush dipped in ink appeared. They glitched. He quickly sketched Asuka from Evangelion. Then his dad. Father, mom, elder brother, each of Johan’s six siblings.

Objects lasted longer. But after about ten minutes, they vanished.

Could this dream only reflect what Yu Han saw?

Yu Han looked up at the sky of the white space. It shimmered. All around, there was a blurry forest. To the left, a shrine. Above, a meteor. Rotten wood. Obsidian skull. Green fire.

Skin burnt, flesh peeled off his skeleton.

It crashed into the earth. The white space shattered, and Yu Han lost consciousness.

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