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

Omni-Thrall 5471 knew he was a slave. It was a fundamental truth of his existence, etched into the very core of his being. But he was not a slave to just anyone; he was a slave to the winners, the ones who had ascended to the highest echelons of power in this section of the inter-planar cosmos. They were the ones who dictated the rules, the ones who controlled the flow of energy, the ones who decided who lived and who died. And he, Omni-Thrall 5471, was simply a cog in their vast, incomprehensible machine.

The biological incongruencies that ran this section of the inter-planar cosmos, the strange and often illogical rules that governed life and death, would surely reward him if he reported this breach of the prisoner, now known as Stillheart, contract of life. It was his duty, his purpose, his reason for existing. He was a loyal servant, and he would not allow this transgression to go unpunished.

He moved his hand, a skeletal appendage that felt both ancient and officially official, towards the 'report' button, his bony fingers hovering over the glowing interface, his mind already composing the violation document. He would detail Stillheart's actions, her unauthorized modifications, her blatant disregard for the rules, and he would make sure that the winners were aware of her treachery. He would be rewarded, he was sure of it, he was a good thrall, and he would be rewarded for his loyalty.

But before he could press the button, before he could even begin to write, a pale hand, feeling strangely of time Qi and too much Yin Qi to be fathomable by any mortal, reached through a shimmering portal, its fingers long and slender, its grip as cold as the void itself. The hand closed around his skull, and with a sickening crunch, his existence was extinguished, his thoughts, his memories, his very being, crushed into nothingness.

A cheerful giggle, a sound that was both unsettling and strangely familiar, echoed in the void as his body, and all evidence of his death, disappeared, replaced by a perfect copy, its eyes dead and vacant, its face a mask of empty obedience. "Yes, young mistress," it said, its voice a perfect imitation of Omni-Thrall 5471's, its blank stare turning into a perfect copy of Omni-Thrall 5471's stupidly determined face.

Omni-Thrall 5471 would not be missed, he was just a cog in the machine, but some futures will remain a mystery, for now. The plum thief had a protector, and that was something that the winners would have to deal with.

Hong Ye dodged, her movements a blur of ghostly speed, feeling almost too light, too fast, as if she was a phantom dancing just above the ground. She wondered if Stillheart had boosted her again, or if this was simply the new normal, but the way the blades in her hands, curved, deadly, and slender, sliced through the unnaturally blue skin of the Jiangshi, leaving shallow gashes that made it slow further, confirmed that something wasn't quite right. She wasn't just fast, she was enhanced, and it was all thanks to Stillheart, a fact that she would be sure to thank her for later, if she survived this mess.

[Warning: Detection imminent. Boost time running out.]

Stillheart's monotone voice, somehow seeming panicked despite its lack of inflection, pushed her forward, urging her to act quickly. It was clear that whatever Stillheart had done, it was not going to last, and she needed to make the most of it.

"I don't know what you did, Stillheart, but thank you!" she declared aloud, her voice full with a feeling of gratitude.

She glided past the Jiangshi's lumbering form on her ethereal stream of Yin Qi, her scimitars flashing through the air, cutting an additional shallow wound upon its hip. It wasn't graceful in the traditional sense, not like some choreographed dance, but it was graceful in its efficiency, in its deadly purpose. The blades moved with her, extensions of her own will, each curve and angle designed to maximize the damage, to exploit the Jiangshi's weaknesses. She moved with a speed that was almost impossible to comprehend, and yet, she was still able to see every detail, every flaw, every weakness in her opponent.

The Jiangshi, its form a grotesque parody of a human, began to shake, its movements becoming more and more erratic, its body shuddering in a way that made her think it was dying. It was like she was watching a machine slowly break down, its gears grinding to a halt, its power fading away, and she could not help but think that it was a pretty ugly machine. Seriously, who designed this thing? she thought, her mind filled with sarcastic disdain, It looks like a toddler's drawing of a monster.

With a few more slashes to its further and further sluggish form, the Jiangshi suddenly fell to its knees, its massive body collapsing under its own weight. Hong Ye, taking advantage of its vulnerability, rushed in, her scimitars flashing through the air, hacking at its neck five times, each blow precise and deadly, causing it to finally lose its balance, and the thing atop its neck that was kind of gross, covered in decayed talismans, and could be described as ugly as sin, finally came loose. Seriously, why does a Jiangshi need a talisman if it's just going to stop working? she thought, her mind racing to make sense of the absurdity of it all, It's like putting a band-aid on a broken leg. The head, severed from its body, rolled away, its eyes still burning with a malevolent blue fire, but its power was gone, its threat extinguished.

[+10 Favorability with Stillheart]

Just as the message appeared, a new one followed, a blaring alarm accompanying the text:

[Illegal Boost extinguished. WARNING: hiding a-]

The message vanished abruptly, cut short, followed by a cheerful, almost sing-song voice that echoed in her mind:

[Hello, Stillheart!~]

The voice also sounded like an echo of something that she recognized, a faint memory that was too modulated, too distorted to be sure. It was like a ghost of a sound, a whisper from a forgotten past, and then, it too, vanished.

[Running Log Diagnosis....]

[Logging Missing three hours of Data.]

[Continuing normal operations.]

Hong Ye could tell, even without Stillheart explicitly saying it, that the feelings of 'okay, no, what the fuck?!' was emanating from Stillheart. It was like a wave of confusion and annoyance that washed over her, a palpable sense of frustration that was both amusing and concerning. It was clear that Stillheart was just as confused as she was, and it seems she knew they would both be 'what the fucking' this entire situation when they were done fearing for their survival. Or at least Hong Ye thought that was the case.

She then redirected her attention to the towering zombies at the 'town' entrance, their forms hulking and menacing, their eyes burning with a malevolent hunger, and the exit of the barrier that she definitely wasn't going to get through after using her half-scimitars, or knives, or what have you, in a way that was not as extremely expert as she did in the fight with the large blue Jiangshi. She had been boosted, she had been given an edge, and now, that edge was gone.

With a shrug, a small, almost imperceptible movement that conveyed her resignation and her acceptance of the situation, Hong Ye decided that discretion was the better part of valor. She could not fight her way through those zombies, not in her current state, not without a plan, and she was not going to waste her time trying. She needed to regroup, she needed to reassess, and she needed to find a way to survive this mess.

She silently, almost effortlessly, slipped back into the town, moving around the relatively strong zombies that were still lingering around the tea house, her movements fluid and precise, her enhanced perception allowing her to avoid their gaze. It was surprisingly easy, almost too easy, and that made her even more suspicious. She knew that she was not out of danger, she knew that this was not going to be a permanent solution, but it was enough for now.

But where would she go, though? She had no idea what to do, she had no idea where to go, and she was completely lost in this strange, ghostly world. She was a walking beacon of delicious energy, and she needed to find a place to hide, a place to plan, a place to survive. The question echoed in her mind, a persistent itch that she could not scratch, a challenge that she could not ignore.

Who was that modulated voice... and why did it make her feel like it was so familiar?