自創小說的集合地

"Understood. Then, Teacher, I'll make a rough draft first." I didn't expect my casual excuse to hit the mark, but... I never said I was only making one weapon. "Brother, what's going on? Take a look for me, what's my situation?" As I was carving the shape of the weapon I needed with a small knife, Di Pi ran up to me, his face full of despair. "What situation?" "I don't feel anything with any weapon I hold, but when I moved a wooden board just now, I felt so close to it, like we were connected by blood. Brother, should I privately ask my parents if someone had an affair with a wooden board?" Pfft! What the heck! With a wooden board? Are you sure your parents won't come to the academy and ask you to delete your account if you ask them that? "Why don't you try adding a handle to the back of the wooden board?" I suddenly thought of a possibility. This item wasn't among the weapon samples, and strictly speaking, a shield isn't a conventional weapon. Following my suggestion, Di Pi went to bother Wen Yue and was then sent back to me to do it himself, feast or famine. "Brother, you've made quite a few!" I glanced at Di Pi, who was holding a hammer and nailing it to fix the handle onto the wooden board. "Many? It's alright." I lied, looking at the dozens of knives, big and small, in my hands. "Don't just talk about me. Your wooden board is almost a flattened mace. Can you tell me what's different about it, other than its shape, from a mace?"

Anyway, with this style, Hou Taotao is determined to go all the way down the path of being a 'man-killer', isn't she? "As long as you like it. However, I suggest that since the long whip has too much attack range, you could pair it with a dagger or short sword. After all, a long whip can be wielded with one hand, so complementing it with a short weapon in your off-hand would also be good for self-preservation." Just kidding, how could I possibly reveal the scene in my mind? Once I say it out loud, I'll be the one being stepped on by her. I casually tried a few weapons, then turned to find Wen Yue. "Teacher Wen." I tried my best to ignore the sycophantic behavior in front of me, seeing how Wen Yue was so attentive that he could probably function as a fan if he had a tail. I struggled to keep my voice even. "Ahem, what is it? Have you decided which direction you want to cultivate in the future?" "No, I wanted to ask Teacher Wen if it's possible to customize weapons. I feel like an image is appearing in my mind, constantly calling out to me." Of course, that's a lie. It would be too attention-grabbing if I directly said I chose a weapon that doesn't exist here. "Don't worry, it's possible. There are raw wood materials and tools over there. You can start by making a rough prototype yourself, and then we'll have the craft class make a finely-crafted practice weapon. In the second year, you'll be issued corresponding real weapons, as team training is essentially combat." "Teacher, are there people like me every year? I mean..." "Yes, there are. You don't need to feel strange about it. There are cases far more exaggerated than yours. You just have an image appearing in your mind, while some people have weapons grow directly from their bodies. When such a situation occurs, it indicates that this weapon is naturally suited to your constitution, with extremely high compatibility. Practicing with it will yield twice the results with half the effort."

Chen Cheng bought an oil painting from a flea market. The painting depicted the back of a woman standing by a window, with long hair cascading down her shoulders and wearing a white dress. The brushstrokes were incredibly fine, making it look as real as a photograph. He found it beautiful and hung it on the living room wall. The next morning, he noticed the woman in the painting had turned slightly. What was initially just the back of her head now revealed half of her profile. Chen Cheng thought he might have misremembered and didn't think much of it. On the second day, the woman turned a little more. This time, he was sure it wasn't his imagination; the contours of her face were becoming clearer. On the third day, the woman had turned completely around. It was the face of his ex-girlfriend, who had died in a car accident three years ago. Terrified, Chen Cheng took the painting down, shoved it into the deepest corner of the storage room, and covered it with old blankets. That night, he heard faint footsteps coming from the storage room. He didn't dare open the door and locked himself in his bedroom. The next morning, the storage room door was ajar. The painting was gone. He breathed a sigh of relief and walked back into the living room— The painting was hanging on the wall again. But this time, there was an extra person in the painting. A man, standing next to the woman, with his back to the viewer. He was wearing the same gray t-shirt that Chen Cheng was wearing today. He looked down at his own clothes. Gray. The man in the painting was slowly turning his head. Chen Cheng's friends hadn't been able to reach him for three days and reported him missing to the police. When the police entered Chen Cheng's house, all they found was the painting on the wall. The woman was smiling sinisterly.

"I don't know, I want to try it first." Hou Taotao also had a helpless look. With so many options, anyone would get a headache. "Then why think so much? Why not just try each one?" Di Bi, with a large bump on his head, popped out from behind. "Don't pop out from behind me anymore. It makes me uncomfortable," I said jokingly. "Okay, okay. Come on, let's try them quickly. There's too much stuff, I'm afraid we won't have enough time." Seeing Di Bi's eager expression, I found it a bit amusing and stepped forward with him, casually picking up an item and starting to swing it around. Although I was also trying, I actually had a pre-selection in mind, but it might require customization. "I feel like this one I'm holding is quite handy," Hou Taotao came to find me. But when I clearly saw the weapon in her hand, I was a bit speechless. The reason for my speechlessness was that she was holding a long whip, not the kind made of leather, but a thorny whip. Of course, it was soft, and hitting someone would at most leave a red mark, not a wound. However, considering her talent and the abilities of her awakened beast, an image involuntarily popped into my mind: a person in a full black leather outfit, leather pants, high-heeled leather boots, wearing a black half-mask, wielding a long whip, with one foot stepping on the butt of a fallen man. No, no, I can't think about it. I'm afraid of being banned.

"Hello everyone, I am your exclusive combat skills instructor --- Wen Yue. You can call me Teacher Wen, or my nickname, but you'll have to find that out yourself." A male teacher with gold-rimmed glasses, who looked gentle and refined, chose the three of us. Judging by his appearance, I don't know about the others, but I just want to describe him as --- a 'sweet scoundrel.' This demeanor perfectly fits that description. "Now you can go to the side, where there are various training equipment. You can try them out slowly. If you find something you like, or have any questions, feel free to come to me." After saying that, he actually went to another group and fanned the female instructor of that group! "Holy crap! What is that... a simp?" Di Pi exclaimed upon seeing this, but soon a stone flew straight towards his forehead. I quickly pulled Hou Taotao and ran towards the equipment rack to avoid collateral damage. "Taotao, what are your thoughts?" Looking at the numerous types and quantities of racks before me, my head felt a bit dizzy. To put it nicely, there are only eleven categories of weapons: swords, spears, staffs, axes, sabers, daggers, bows, whips, thrown, melee, and tech. But just with swords, there are classifications like heavy-backed swords, long swords, short swords, scimitars, and a bunch more, not to mention their special transformations. After all, to survive better in this chaotic world, weapon development is constantly evolving, and the variety is almost endless. Besides the types you can recognize at a glance, like 'thrown' which was called 'hidden weapons' in my past life, 'melee' which is called 'fist and foot techniques,' and 'tech' which is the so-called 'firearms,' this world doesn't use gunpowder but energy ores, similar to the optical weapons imagined in my past life.

As soon as Shen Li moved into her new apartment, she heard regular footsteps from upstairs. Thump, thump, thump. From one end of the room to the other, and back again. It started precisely at 5 AM every morning and ended at 11 PM every night. She went upstairs to complain, only to find that the unit was completely unoccupied. The landlord said it had been empty since the previous tenant moved out. Shen Li didn't believe it and used her own key to open the door and look inside. It was empty, with only circles of scuff marks worn white on the floor. That night, the footsteps returned. Unable to stand it any longer, she banged on the ceiling with her broom. The footsteps stopped. Three seconds later, a loud thud came from directly above her, like someone stomping down heavily from a height. Then a second, a third, getting closer and closer. She suddenly realized – the footsteps weren't coming from upstairs. They were coming from inside the ceiling. She looked up and saw a ceiling tile slowly being pushed aside. A pair of pale feet dangled from the gap above her head, swaying gently. The owner of the feet didn't come down, but merely tapped her shoulder with their toes. "You knocked on me," a muffled voice came from inside the ceiling. "Now it's your turn to come up." Shen Li wanted to run, but her legs wouldn't obey. Step by step, she walked towards the ladder by the wall. She climbed up, lifted the tile, and crawled into the ceiling. The next morning, a new tenant moved in and heard the regular footsteps coming from the ceiling. Thump, thump, thump. The landlord said, "That's from upstairs. You'll get used to it." The new tenant nodded and began unpacking. Above the ceiling, Shen Li knelt in the darkness, patting the tiles with her palms, her mouth

Chapter 1 Chu Anran received the call while in a quarterly summary meeting at work. He only noticed the incoming call from his younger brother Gu Qingci's university counselor after his phone vibrated three times. Without much thought, he pressed the answer button. The voice on the other end was urgent, speaking a long string of words, but Chu Anran only caught a few: "Hospital," "Poisoned," "Come quickly." Everyone in the conference room was looking at him. As Chu Anran stood up, his chair let out a piercing screech. He said, "Sorry," and walked out. By the time he reached the elevator lobby, his steps suddenly slowed, as if his legs had lost all strength. He reached out to brace himself against the wall, stood for two seconds, then continued forward. He was alone in the elevator. He lowered his head, looking at the tips of his shoes, his hand gripping his phone, knuckles white. The taxi ride from his company to the hospital took forty minutes. He sat in the back, staring out the window the entire time, his expression blank. The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror, thinking the young man was eerily silent. But as they neared the emergency room entrance, the driver saw him suddenly cover his face with his hand, his shoulders trembling slightly. Just once, and then he quickly regained his composure. In the emergency room corridor stood a few people—the counselor and two of Gu Qingci's classmates. They made way for Chu Anran as he approached. He didn't look at them, walking straight towards the door to go in, but was stopped by a nurse. "The patient is still undergoing resuscitation. Family members, please wait here." Chu Anran stood outside the emergency room door, hands hanging loosely at his sides, his entire body rigid like a nailed-down tree.

In middle school, there are only two classes a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Sometimes multiple classes attend together, and sometimes the entire grade attends together. In any case, a single class never attends alone. "Secondly, once you've chosen a direction, based on the teachers' advice, it's not recommended to change it midway because you won't have enough time. As the saying goes, 'a month for a staff, a year for a saber, a lifetime for a spear,' all sorts of weapons require time to practice and become familiar with. If you change midway, you'll lose out on that session, and you know how much difference one point can make in the joint entrance exam three years later." "Thirdly, ask your heart what weapon suits you best. Don't choose carelessly, and don't pick one that doesn't suit you just because it looks cool. If you're suited for a powerful weapon but choose one that requires high agility just because it looks cool, that's not cool, that's stupid. Now, I'd like to ask all teachers to pick 2-3 students each. For the next three years, the teacher who selects you will be your dedicated combat technique instructor. If you have any questions regarding combat techniques, consult your dedicated instructor." "Of course, this instructor won't only teach a few of you; there will be students from other classes as well. When team training starts, you'll be grouped under your respective instructors. Oh, right. Team training begins in the second year, and it won't just be about breaking a sweat; people might actually die, so keep at it, youngsters!" Perhaps it was because Di Pi, Hou Tao Tao, and I were standing together, but we were chosen by the same teacher and didn't get separated.

On the outdoor training grounds, our three classes were attending a joint combat skills class. However, there were as many as fifty instructors for this combat skills lesson. Have you ever had fifty teachers give you a single class? If you average it out among the three classes, that's one teacher for every 2-3 students. This isn't a large class; it's personalized instruction! The leading instructor, with a full beard and a shiny bald head, spoke with a Sichuan accent, "You brats, is it that surprising?" "Teacher, fifty teachers, how could we not be surprised?" a student boldly retorted. "Fifty? Is that a lot? You should know that all combat skills courses in the entire academy are taught by these fifty of us together. You are a special class, with only three classes. Think about it, excluding the life skills classes where you don't have combat training, we have the largest number of students in the combat classes. This year, the academy recruited fifteen thousand students for the combat classes, which means 150 classes on average. We need to handle 30 classes simultaneously. Do you still think we have too many people?" Thinking about it that way, I couldn't refute him, and the entire place fell silent. "Since there are no more questions, I'll speak, and you'll listen. First, for today's first lesson, don't worry, we won't start training yet. What you need to do is choose the direction for your future combat skills. You have the entire afternoon to consider slowly. There are training wooden weapons nearby that you can play with, but if anyone gets hurt, don't blame me for being harsh."

Shen Jing was at the night market, fishing for goldfish, and caught one that was completely black. The vendor's expression changed, and he quickly reached out to take the fish back. "This one isn't for sale." Shen Jing found it strange and asked a few questions, but the vendor refused to explain. The more he looked, the more bizarre the fish seemed. In the end, he paid for it and insisted on taking the fish with him. After returning home, he put the black fish into a fish tank. Strangely, the fish didn't swim. It just hovered in the middle of the water, completely still. Its two pitch-black eyes stared fixedly at Shen Jing. That night, Shen Jing had a dream. He was standing at the bottom of a dark body of water, so quiet he couldn't hear anything. Suddenly, the black fish swam towards him from afar. It stopped in front of Shen Jing and opened its mouth. "You brought me home, so you have to stay here for me." Shen Jing jolted awake. He found himself lying on the floor next to the fish tank, completely drenched. Breathing heavily, he turned to look at the fish tank. It was empty. The black fish was gone. Shen Jing let out a sigh of relief, pushed himself up from the floor, and prepared to take a shower. As he passed the mirror, he suddenly stopped. In the mirror—he wasn't there. Shen Jing blankly raised his hand. On his arm, fine black scales had appeared at some point. One by one. Cold and smooth, they were slowly spreading across his skin. He opened his mouth in terror, wanting to shout, but no sound came from his throat. Only a stream of bubbles slowly floated out of his mouth. Shen Jing looked down at his body. At some point, he was already submerged in water.