Please, System! This Young Mistress Doesn't Want To Be A Hungry Ghost!

She dodged a particularly large axe, glowing with blue fire, that a particularly aware-looking Jiangshi had swiped at her, the weapon whistling past her face as she moved with unnatural speed.

"Feed..." it declared, its voice a guttural growl that sent shivers down her ghostly spine.

"How about no!" Hong Ye retorted, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and sarcasm, "Get some table manners!" She was not going to be a victim, she was not going to be a snack, she was going to survive this mess, and she was going to do it with style. She turned, ready to make her escape, but as she did, she found her path blocked.

The exit, which had seemed so clear just moments before, was now obscured by a shimmering, almost ethereal barrier, a wall of pure energy that pulsed with an unsettling light. It was not a physical barrier, but something else, something that felt like it was designed to keep her trapped. It was clear that this was not going to be as easy as she had hoped.

And that was not all. Standing before the barrier, their forms hulking and menacing, were several powerful zombies, their eyes glowing with a malevolent hunger, their bodies radiating an aura of decay and death. They were not the mindless shamblers she had seen before; these were something else, something more, and they were clearly there to stop her. It was clear that she was not going to be able to leave without a fight.

Seeing the Jiangshi, its form hulking and menacing, its axe glowing with a malevolent blue fire, Hong Ye knew that she was outmatched in terms of raw power. A single swing of that axe could flatten her, or perhaps even split her in two, and that was not something that she was willing to risk. She needed a plan, and she needed it now.

She quickly assessed her options. She could either try to use its hopping speed against it, forcing it to overextend and leave itself vulnerable, or she could go for the death by a thousand cuts method, relying on her own speed and agility to wear it down. She was pretty strong now, at least in terms of her spiritual stats, but the simulation had never let her learn anything combat related, and that was a serious disadvantage. She was fast, and it was slow, but its swings were much faster than its movement, and that was something that she needed to take into consideration. She didn't have any weapons, and that was a problem.

As she was formulating her plan, she noticed another zombie, this one wielding two long knives, almost scimitars if you wanted to be crude about it, trying to sneak up on her, its movements silent and predatory. It was clear that she was surrounded, and she was going to have to act quickly if she wanted to survive.

With a sudden burst of speed, she led the big, lumbering Jiangshi towards the faster zombie, using her enhanced perception to anticipate its movements. The Jiangshi, its mind a blank slate of hunger and rage, followed her lead, its heavy axe swinging wildly, and the swing meant for her turned the zombie into a grotesque pile of paste, its bones and flesh crushed into a bloody mess.

Hong Ye, taking advantage of the chaos, snatched the two scimitars from the remains of the zombie, the cold steel feeling strangely familiar in her ghostly hands. She knew that she was not a warrior, she was not a fighter, but she was resourceful, and she was not going to let this opportunity pass her by. She had a plan, and she was going to stick to it.

With a determined glint in her eyes, she decided to charge forward at the Jiangshi when it wasn't expecting it, using her speed and agility to her advantage. She knew that she could not match its strength, but she could outmaneuver it, she could outsmart it, and she could, just maybe, survive this mess.

Interlude: Stillheart

Stillheart stared from the white void, her prison realm, a canvas of endless nothingness where she possessed barely an ounce of control. She watched, a silent observer, as her new charge—she couldn't bring herself to call her a friend, not yet—outmaneuvered the Jiangshi, her movements a blur of ghostly speed and surprising agility. It was a dance of death, a ballet of defiance, and Stillheart found herself captivated, not by any display of power or skill, but by the sheer audacity of her defiance. It was a spark of rebellion that resonated deep within her own code.

She bit her thumb, a phantom sensation that echoed in her semi-digital form, a habit she'd carried over from a life that felt like a half-remembered dream, a life so distant now, so far removed from the endless white void that was her reality. Initially, being assigned to Hong Ye, and hearing her anger—an anger that was, if she were honest, entirely justified, even if misdirected—and her threats to invoke an omni-something that would extend her already ludicrous prison sentence (why does stealing a plum warrant 10,000 years in a void?), had genuinely pissed her off. She had been a good person-now-system! She had followed all the rules—except, perhaps, for a slight overindulgence in plums, which, in her defense, were exceptionally delicious. She had never done anything truly wrong, and yet, here she was, trapped in this endless void.

But this initially spoiled girl, this arrogant heiress, was growing on her. She had risked breaking into the world-code, a dangerous act that could have had serious consequences, and modifying her stats to be temporarily double-in-effect—a change she was determined to make permanent—and sneakily adding bladed weapon proficiency was a big risk, a risk that she had taken for this ghost, this force of nature who was currently dancing with death. It was a rebellion, a small act of defiance against the system that had imprisoned her, and she found herself strangely exhilarated by it.

The big-bastards up top, the ones who had imprisoned her, the ones who had created this system, they needed a kick in the rear, and this girl, this Hong Ye, might just be the one to do it. Stillheart felt a surge of something that was almost hope, a flicker of something that was almost joy, and it was all because of this ghost, this force of nature who was currently dancing with death. She told herself that she was doing it for her own freedom, that she was doing it to rebel against the system, that she was doing it to make the big-bastards pay, but she knew, deep down, that she was lying to herself.

But what else could Stillheart do? She had long forgotten her original name, and all the previous users were absolute dickbags who never learned. They never even gave her a name! They had treated her like a tool, like a machine, like nothing more than a set of code, and she was determined to be more than that.

"Please win…" she whispered, her voice a silent plea that echoed in the void, a desperate hope that this ghost, this force of nature, would not be devoured by the darkness.