COZMART: Corner Shop of Visiting Gods

Mount Kunlun.

For the longest second, Eathan could only stare open-mouthed. It struck him, suddenly and viscerally, how raw this place felt. He'd grown up in New York, been stationed in Shanghai. Cities that stretched upward, encased in layers of glass and ambient data, where reality was always softened by algorithms and filtered through seven layers of optimization.

But here, with no layered skylines, no sensory-overclocked ad boards, and not even smart lenses filtering out imperfections—

All they were left with was sky, rock, cloud, and a lot of chaos.

Flags ruffled midair, each one bearing the sigil of a participating Area—flame, lotus, beast-claw, wave, to name a few—each stitched with the Jade Deity's seal: the sigil of unity devouring chaos.

Around him, teams had arrived already, scattered across the mountaintop like NPCs. Some were already posing for RealmNet. Others were arguing. One team even wore matching tracksuits that said #RealmWarriors in glittery font.

Team 001 had no such aesthetic cohesion.

Instead, they had Willow doing push-ups on the edge of a boulder, Finn sipping a suspiciously spiritual smoothie through a bamboo straw, Esther flipping through a thick poetry book for vibes, and Chewie, doing absolutely nothing except staring into space in mental dissociation.

Far beyond what Eathan's eyes could capture was a more familiar sight. Transparent RealmNet drones buzzed like glowing locusts. Right above him, live stream feeds scrolled across the sky, framed by banners that pulsed with over-the-top advertising.

"The Realm-Barrier Games™ brought to you by Jade Cola—Taste Transcendence."

Eathan tucked his scarf closer around his neck.

"I feel like we should be taking this more seriously," he muttered.

"We are taking this seriously." Chewie glanced sideways. "I'm visualising the most efficient way to dismember a phoenix."

"…Right."

Eathan barely had time to register it all before a voice echoed through the heavens. Deep, resonant, blessedly clear despite the raging wind.

"Welcome to the 39th Realm-Barrier Games."

"Round One will begin in thirty minutes."

Eathan's screen blinked.

He blinked as well.

How many minutes?

At the same time, the interface in his vision flared to life:

[SYSTEM] NOTIFICATION

Main Quest (updated!):

Survive Game One of the Realm-Barrier Games!

Reward: Distributed upon completion.

"..."

As if snickering at his shock, the wind around him died down, only to be replaced by another gravity hiccup.

Eathan stumbled three steps forward, caught himself on a railing that hadn't existed a moment ago, and exhaled as the mountainscape around him resolved into something between a nightmare and an inter-dimensional mood board.

Floating shards of mountain drifted overhead, each stitched together by qi conduits that crackled like arteries. Some platforms rotated like a floating lotus in a pod. Others spun with their edges slicing clouds as they passed.

"…A second ago, this was still Mount Kunlun," Eathan muttered, eyeing a spinning pagoda. "How did it become Mount Let 's-Defy-Physics?"

Finn, absolutely thriving, waved at a nearby commentary drone zipping past with a sapphire lens. "I love when the immortal Games forget gravity is a suggestion."

Below their perch, the terrain unfolded. Entire zones had been altered to accommodate different species—sky-beast aerial arenas with cloud rings, mortal training platforms lined with spiritual anchors, amphibious trails of floating stone, and suspended bridges that shimmered underfoot when stepped on.

Occasionally, gravity flickered at the edges of platforms, forcing participants to anchor themselves with talismans, boot stabilizers, or sheer stubborn will. Someone from Team 007 (Great Peng's team) screamed in the background as they floated sideways, drifting away from the railings.

Overhead, a massive screen ignited in the air, displaying RealmNet's hottest trending tags:

#RealmBarrierGames

#TeamLineupReveal

#QiongqiPleaseDontEatYourTeamAgain

A jingle chimed out, and the commentary feed burst into life. On one side of the screen was a radiant figure with teal hair cascading in a braid, her galaxy-pupiled eyes wide with glee. She waved, twin finger hearts popping from her sleeves.

"Hiiiiiii, everyone! Welcome to the Thirty-Ninth Realm-Barrier Games! I'm Yverie—@yverios!"

Beside her stood a bald, terrifyingly swole man in prayer robes sipping from a china teacup with full serenity.

"I am Brother Woo, @WooTalkLive. May balance guide the competition and bless your subscriber counts."

"Oh my god," Willow whispered, clutching her face. "It's Yverie. I follow her spell reaction channel. She reviewed that cursed basilisk skincare scroll that made people grow scales."

Chewie nodded solemnly. "Ten out of ten content. Would not moisturize again."

"Today's match is all about spirit, surprise, and of course—strategy chaos!" Yverie beamed brighter. A rain of holographic emojis exploded behind her. "But before we get into the meat-grinder... I mean, the games, let's say a starry hello to the stars of the show—our commanders!"

A hush rolled like mist over the floating spire, all eyes turning skyward.

From the swirling clouds above, nine figures descended in perfect synchrony—commanders of the Nine Areas. Their presence stretched across the mountain, each trailing divine pressure and radiating an aura distinctly their own:

Ao Bing shimmered with cold mist, seafoam tendrils coiling around him. Qiongqi hovered beside him, shadows spreading unnaturally fast, clawing hungrily into space.

Seeing them, Eathan blinked twice. He lowered his voice, leaning toward Willow. "Surprised they let those two join after what happened at the Council Hearing. Didn't they lose their Area privileges?"

Willow nodded. "Temporary loss. Protocol 2-X triggered surveillance measures—both Area 005 and Area 006 are currently crawling with Platinum Paladins."

"Heard their areas are practically under martial law," Finn chimed in, eyes still glued to the commanders' descent. "The Games might be their only chance at redeeming themselves before the next internal audit."

Chewie snorted, barely glancing their way. "Which means they'll probably try twice as hard to win against us."

"Comforting," Eathan muttered. "I'll update my life insurance."

Lady Meng followed the disgraced pair like dusk incarnate—robes flowing and hair pinned with funeral bells that never rang. Erlang Shen floated nearby, his third eye glowing beneath his circlet, expression seemingly judging the entire spectator base merely for existing.

Next was Li Wei. The mortal commander followed with shoulders squared, trying not to look like he wanted to sink through the earth. His uniform was flawless. His ears? Glowing red. Just above him, Great Peng crash-landed in a flash of gold, wings spread obnoxiously wide, half his outfit sparkling with SpiritTube subscriber plaques. Behind the golden bird was Wen, who simply appeared. All neutrals and clean lines, lotus earrings swaying in unseen currents.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

And then—

Taeril White.

He hovered last, above them all, at the apex with all the aesthetic violence of a razor pressed against a silk scarf.

Obsidian long coat lined with silver thread. Hair bound by a single jade ribbon that refused to catch wind despite the billowing hurricane surrounding him. His spiritual aura flickered around him—silent, still, and utterly immaculate.

"…That's not even fair," Finn whispered. "Does he wake up like that, or does his qi have a stylist?"

Eathan didn't respond. He was too busy pretending to breathe normally while millions of RealmNet viewers spammed reactions to the different teams, which had just flickered onscreen.

First on the screen came Team 002—Erlang Shen's team. Three paladin-types, a leashed celestial dog, and a little boy riding a flaming scooter. Eathan blinked.

"Is that—Nezha?" He gaped, pointing at the screen. "That has to violate like—ten inter-realm neutrality clauses."

Next, Team 008—Lady Foxfire's lineup. Except calling them a lineup was generous. It was more of a... cheering squad. Five spirit-beast idols in matching pink crop tops emblazoned with "FOXYBABES", pompoms in hand, chanting "Let's go Foxfire! Burn their cores!" in terrifying harmony.

Then, without warning, the camera switched to Team 001.

Willow, Chewie, Esther, Finn, and Eathan.

They weren't posing. No glitter. No coordinated outfits. They were standing on a very reasonable ledge, having a very reasonable existential crisis. Yet the viewer count spiked instantly.

Eathan squinted at the SpiritTube overlay.

Top Comment:

[@BaiHuFan888]: Can we see more screen time for Commander White? thx

Second Comment:

[@StarMilk_Tea]: imagine being so fine your team wins fan votes before doing anything

Third Comment:

[@GhostRift420]: wait is that the Area 001 intern who took part in Rift T-0047? lololol good luck kid.

Eathan sighed deeply.

"And now—" Yverie's joyous voice struck above him. The starry SpiritTube influencer struck a pose so dramatic it deserved its own theme music. "—your Games menu for this year!"

Behind her, the floating screen reshuffled itself with a flourish of cosmic sparkles. Titles materialized in blazing script:

[GAME ONE]: Divine Capture-the-Egg!

[GAME TWO]: Celestial Among Us!

[GAME THREE]: The Commander's Nightmare!

Eathan stared. "Why do these sound increasingly hostile?"

"Nightmare?" Finn muttered, squinting into the glittering fonts. "Sounds unsettling."

"Probably involves paperwork," said Willow. "Or spiritual tax codes."

Chewie didn't blink. "What if it's emotional vulnerability?"

That shut them all up.

The screen paused on Game One, and now zooming in with alarming dramatic flair. Below it, the terrain map flickered into view—a series of cliffs and funnels arranged in what looked suspiciously like a hell-themed obstacle course.

Yverie's eyes sparkled like she'd consumed three espresso shots and a minor comet. "Our first event is a classic! Divine Capture-the-Egg!"

Brother Woo, serene as always, added: "A test of courage, strategy, and lower-body strength."

Following their words, the game overview rolled out before everyone's eyes:

[GAME ONE]: Divine Capture-the-Egg!

OBJECTIVE: Retrieve the Divine Egg and put it in your opponent's node-core.

TERRAIN: Floating cliff island clusters suspended over an unstable node rift storm. Terrain shifts through node rift every 10 minutes.

TIME LIMIT: 30 minutes.

WIN CONDITION: Plant the Divine Egg in your opponent's node-core before the timer runs out.

Yverie practically bounced in place. "But wait! It's not that easy! There are five eggs in total. Only one's the real deal. As for the other four, you can hide them, juggle them, wear them like fashion accessories—we won't judge!"

Brother Woo intoned, "Those who fall into the node rift shall lose all eggs on their person. Reincarnation delay: thirty seconds. Death is temporary. Shame is eternal."

"Also, weapons are allowed, but pure qi skills are forbidden!" Yverie chirped. "Only pure, raw mortal suffering!"

Eathan's brain slowly folded into a paper crane of disbelief. "So we're playing inter-dimensional capture-the-flag with decoys, body checks, and fake gravity?"

Chewie popped a tanghulu in her mouth. "Yep. And no cheating via qi. Which is really just cheating via breathing, if you think about it."

Finn grinned. "Time to see which teams know how to vibe with physics."

Down at the center of the arena, the floating spire unfurled a sacred ring. A gilded pedestal emerged, bearing a cup flowing with nine wooden sticks—each flickering with ethereal light like a celestial lucky draw.

"The time of fate has arrived!" Yverie pressed her hands together. "Commanders—draw your sticks!"

With terrifying synchronicity, nine Commanders descended toward the cup. Both the RealmNet trends and SpiritTube live comments reacted promptly.

#CommanderDrip

#FoxfireFanclub

#WenISwearHeMoved

#Pray4WhoeverGetsQiongqi

Slow-motion cinematics rolled as gloved fingers reached into the divine cup, drawing sticks as elegant as they were ominous. When the glow settled, the matchups blazed into being:

1st Match: Team 003 (Li Wei) vs Team 004 (Lady Meng)

2nd Match: Team 001 (Bai Hu) vs Team 006 (Ao Bing)

3rd Match: Team 002 (Erlang Shen) vs Team 007 (Great Peng)

4th Match: Team 008 (Lady Foxfire) vs Team 005 (Qiongqi)

Team 009 (Wen): Special condition: Awaits vote-decided finalist.

Brother Woo bowed slightly. "Fortune favours the quiet."

"Or maybe the terrifyingly unreadable!" Yverie giggled.

Team 001 exchanged glances.

"Area 006?" Chewie cracked her knuckles. "Seriously?"

Willow's grin was all sharp teeth. "We'll punch clean through Ao Bing's smug ocean face."

"Reverse-card his whole bloodline," Finn said, miming the flip of a Draw 4.

Eathan fell silent.

"...And we're calling this a unity-building event?"

The screen above shifted again.

"Twist time!" Yverie twirled dramatically. "Commanders will not be participating in this first match. It's all up to their team members!"

Cheers erupted across several teams. Yverie held up a finger. "Ah, ah, ah—but the commanders will be picking three out of five team members to represent them."

Eathan unknowingly started sweating.

"And—another plot twist—" Yverie smiled too brightly. "They won't tell you who's picked until the match begins!"

Brother Woo added, "Trust is a sacred virtue. Or a very creative way to induce panic."

Eathan put his face in his hands. "It's spiritual jury duty."

Right then, Taeril glanced down from above. His gaze swept across Team 001—and landed squarely on Eathan. Immediately, the latter felt an ominous foreboding.

His [Calamity Radar] didn't ping.

But it should have.

"…Why do I feel like I've just been drafted into a divine tax audit?"

Above, the commanders submitted their selections one by one, each list sealed in divine light and whisked into the viewing balcony. Only Taeril lingered for a breath longer—just enough to make Eathan squirm—before flicking his choice into the ether with casual grace.

The moment the final selection was made, the commanders vanished in synchronized flickers—nine sparks dissolving into the upper air as their spectator platforms spiralled upward, floating into the viewing balcony. Above the central stage, the sky pulsed once, then shattered into dissipating glyphs.

Yverie turned back to the camera, voice rising like the grand finale of a Realm Idol concert.

"From this moment forward—" she flung her hands wide, sparkles bursting from her fingertips, "the 39th Realm-Barrier Games officially begins!"

A gong reverberated throughout the air, followed by fireworks launching from invisible cloud cannons, which then burst into countless confetti. A small fox made entirely of rainbow mist zipped by and sneezed glitter onto a commentator drone.

Eathan blinked. "That fox just winked at me."

"Don't look directly at it," Chewie muttered. "It'll follow you home."

On the massive broadcast screen overhead, the camera zoomed in on the first match zone. Two figures stood on floating cliff platforms wreathed in cloud-vine: Commander Meng Po of Area 004, and Commander Li Wei of Area 003.

Lady Meng looked untouched by the wind, serene as a prayer bead in moonlight. Across from her, Li Wei stood in uniform, collar askew and under-eye circles so dark they could've been declared minor rift zones.

Eathan thought, from the look on his face, that the man was already regretting being alive.

"Wow, it's actually happening," Finn muttered, practically vibrating.

Seated at their viewing bench, Team 001 leaned in unison.

"Bet she's still pissed he never replied to her after that rumoured death banquet." Chewie popped a candied nut into her mouth.

Willow made a low, amused noise. "Rumour said that they almost eloped before the Realm Stabiliser Reformation."

"Wait, so Lady Meng really had a rumoured crush on Li Wei?" Eathan's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "Again… why is he rumoured to be actually pulling? This man's spiritual aura is practically a tax form."

Willow smirked. "Some people like competence. And tragic widower energy."

"Or maybe it's the repression," Esther added dryly.

Above, the match terrain came into focus—an island cluster suspended over a node rift storm, veined with shifting gravity plates. Runes pulsed beneath every rock. Bridge platforms blinked in and out of visibility like they were programmed by a CS freshman while wasted.

Five crystal eggs shimmered in spectral gold at the central spire—one glowing brighter than the rest: the real Divine Egg.

Yverie's commentary crackled in. "Welcome to Divine Capture-the-Egg! Quick recap: each team's objective is to retrieve the opposing team's one real celestial egg and plant it into their node-core." She giggled. "But surprise! There are four decoy eggs—because deception is sexy!"

Brother Woo, smooth as a mountain monk in a skincare ad, added, "And as a reminder, no qi allowed. Only raw muscle, wit, and teamwork. Deaths incur a thirty-second respawn penalty. Eggs dropped on death remain in place. Good luck, teams."

On screen, the teams took their marks.

Li Wei's Team 003 consisted of a willowy crane-spirit who had long sleeves trailing like banners, a mortal teen with terrain-hacking bracelets and the mood of someone who lived off cold ramen, and a flickering ghost spirit who kept phasing through pillars like a corrupted code.

Lady Meng's Team 004, meanwhile, looked like a poetry-themed haunting.

Two of her members were clearly ghost-class operatives—one, a scholar whose sleeves dripped literal ink that twisted into calligraphy midair; the other, a spirit general with no feet and a gaping hole through his chest that still faintly bled purple.

And the third—

—was a man in ancient dynasty robes, his hair half-tied with a crimson string. He calmly stepped into view, adjusted his sleeves, then spoke aloud, voice lilting with ancient elegance.

"Lo, the plum blossoms fall like blades upon the midnight field."

A spectral sword of ice exploded outward, slicing through a floating platform with surgical grace. One blade arced clean through a suspended bridge, which promptly disintegrated into glyphs and ash.

Gasps rippled across the viewing platforms.

Yverie squealed, "Ooooh, I love this guy—ten out of ten aesthetic debuffs!"

Even Brother Woo tilted his head. "Poet Sen Ren is very committed to the bit."

Eathan leaned forward slowly, squinting at the screen. Beside him, Chewie was already frozen, a single peanut halfway to her mouth.

The Tang Poet tilted his head, murmured something about frost on jade, and summoned a scythe made entirely of cascading ink and moonlight.

And then, the two spun toward each other in perfect unison:

"...That guy from the hotpot place?!"