"Who the hell is so inconsiderate, throwing things from high up!"
Chen Luo angrily rubbed his throbbing forehead and picked up the pen that had hit him.
Chen Luo was so frustrated he could almost spit blood. Today was just a string of bad luck: first, he lost his wallet, then he got laid off at work, and now this misfortune literally fell from the sky as he left the company.
He picked up the "weapon" and tried to find the culprit, but quickly realized something was off. This was a main road with no tall buildings nearby, so there was no way something could have been thrown from above.
"Could someone have intentionally hit me with this pen?"
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Chen Luo suspiciously looked around, but the bustling crowd seemed to exist in a different world, with no one paying him any attention.
Speechless, Chen Luo was about to accept his bad luck and leave when he suddenly noticed that the pen, stained with his blood, had mysteriously vanished.
He rubbed his eyes, sure that the pen had hit his head and had blood on it. How could it just disappear?
In disbelief, Chen Luo picked up the pen for a closer look, and indeed, it was clean, without a trace of blood.
As Chen Luo stood there in shock, a booming voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
[Blood analysis successful, identifying Divine Descendant Gene...]
[Detection successful, Divine Descendant Gene confirmed, Divine Soul confirmed, binding with Primordial Brush successful...]
"Who!?"
Chen Luo looked around in alarm, only to find people staring at him as if he were crazy, quickly distancing themselves from him.
Feeling awkward, Chen Luo quickened his pace and hurried back home.
Chen Luo was a local of Jiang City. His parents had passed away early, leaving him this apartment as his only asset.
When his parents died, several relatives tried to gain custody of Chen Luo to claim this 60-square-meter apartment and his parents' inheritance.
After years of disputes, Chen Luo turned eighteen, and no one gained anything, which allowed him to see his relatives' true colors and gradually cut ties with them.
Back home, Chen Luo cleaned the wound on his forehead and collapsed onto the sofa, feeling lost and without a purpose in life.
Thinking back, his life seemed quite dull. At 25, he hadn't done anything extraordinary or good, just living a mediocre existence.
Apart from losing his parents young, he felt like a puppet, manipulated by people, society, and the inertia of fate.
He followed the usual path of studying, going to university, dating, breaking up, finding a job, and then getting laid off due to the company's poor management.
As Chen Luo pondered his next steps in a daze, a strange light suddenly appeared before him. Startled, he saw the pen on the table transform into a white light and enter his forehead.
Boom!
In an instant, Chen Luo's mind was filled with a roaring sound. He felt an overwhelming amount of information pouring into his brain, but due to its limited capacity, most of it slipped away, leaving only a crucial fragment imprinted deep in his mind.
When Chen Luo regained consciousness, it was already dark.
He was surprisingly calm because he now understood what had entered his body.
The pen that had entered Chen Luo's mind was called the Primordial Brush, its origins unknown. It had hit him because it was sent by his future self to his present self.
It seemed absurd, but Chen Luo had no doubts.
The pen contained the soul imprint of "future Chen Luo," now fully integrated with him.
However, the memory was too vast for an ordinary brain to store, so "future Chen Luo" had sealed the rest, waiting for him to grow stronger to unlock it.
The crucial information he now knew was that a great terror awaited in the future, and he must unlock the Third-Order Gene Lock within three years, or face certain death.
Chen Luo's heart sank. The voice from his soul and a mysterious intuition left him with no doubt about this message.
Chen Luo immediately got up, quickly found a notebook, and with a gesture, the pen appeared in his hand.
Besides the impending threat, his mind also conveyed how to use the Primordial Brush.
Chen Luo began writing in the notebook, and as soon as he put pen to paper...
His vision blurred, and he found himself standing in a void of chaotic darkness, holding the Primordial Brush.
[Light.]
As if anticipating this, Chen Luo calmly wrote the first word.
In the chaotic darkness, a brilliant white light blossomed, and a sun appeared, illuminating the entire world.
[Water], [Land], [Air], [Stars].
As Chen Luo wrote these words with the Primordial Brush, a vast ocean appeared out of nowhere, followed by towering waves and howling winds.
At the ocean's edge, countless towering peaks stretched endlessly forward, disappearing into the horizon.
[Time.]
With these words, the sun began to move, following a celestial pattern, casting light upon the land until night fell and a new moon rose, creating the cycle of day and night.
[Life.]
Suddenly, the ocean teemed with bacteria and blue algae, quickly filling the sea, bringing a spark of life to this desolate time.
At this moment, Chen Luo's body weakened, and he vanished from this world, reappearing in his room, collapsing straight to the floor.
***
It wasn't until the next morning that Chen Luo woke up.
He felt utterly exhausted, with no strength left, and suffered from dizziness and chest tightness, feeling extremely uncomfortable.
His stomach burned with hunger, driving him nearly insane.
Chen Luo struggled to his feet and rushed to the fridge, grabbing everything edible and devouring it as if he hadn't eaten in centuries.
After finally satisfying his hunger, Chen Luo felt slightly better, but his body was still weak, and he was out of breath after just a few steps.
Chen Luo couldn't help but chuckle bitterly, "I didn't expect creating a world to be so exhausting..."
The Primordial Brush was an Innate Spiritual Treasure, capable of creating a world. Whatever was written would manifest in the corresponding world, turning the user into a Creator.
But such a miraculous feat came at a cost, consuming the user's essence, energy, and spirit—in simpler terms, their lifespan.
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