COZMART: Corner Shop of Visiting Gods

Morning broke into Team 001's excessively ornate quarters, sunlight threading through lush curtains. Floating shelves hovered around them, bobbing in place as they dutifully offered jaded bowls filled with snacks no sane person needed before noon—unless, perhaps, that person was Chewie.

Eathan stumbled from his room, eyes still dry from bulging too much at yesterday's psychological warfare. He paused, staring at the breakfast buffet arranged in the lounge—pancakes stacked precariously high, bacon sizzling, and eggs neatly cooked in five different ways. For a second, Eathan considered weeping openly at the sheer normalcy.

He leaned down, whispering to a pancake, "Never thought I'd be so glad to see you."

Grabbing his plate and filling it with mortal dishes, he trudged toward Team 001's table. Willow was already there, tearing through toast with alarming intensity, crumbs flying around her.

Eathan eyed her cautiously, setting his plate down. "What's the rush?"

Willow's gaze didn't lift. "My last meal, probably. Making it count."

"Technically—" Finn was stuffing scrambled eggs into his mouth with equally alarming speed beside her, "—we still have dinner."

Eathan shivered. "Finn, please don't jinx it—"

Chewie, utterly detached from mortal concerns, took a sip out of her hawthorn smoothie. She scrolled endlessly through RealmNet, occasionally smirking at certain memes, particularly those featuring Qiongqi's infamously enraged expression. Eathan briefly wondered just how many memes his own face, eternally trapped in existential dread, had managed to spawn.

"You made Trending again," she informed him mildly, without looking up. "Hashtag #InternPanicFace is top ten."

Eathan groaned. "Thanks for the update, Chewie."

"Anytime."

Just then, Finn jolted, almost choking on his food as Esther appeared soundlessly at his side. "Esther! Make noise! It's a legal requirement, surely!"

Esther gazed at him, a glint in her eyes. "Seems your reaction time could use improvement."

Finn clutched at his heart, shaking his head. "Between you and Commander White, I'm gonna need therapy."

Eathan couldn't help but notice Esther's dry wit surfacing more and more. He felt oddly comforted by it.

Maybe she's finally getting comfortable around us. Took long enough.

After breakfast, he retreated to a quiet corner, cross-legged and finally pulling up his [SYSTEM] panel. For the first time in what felt like weeks, he had a sliver of peace, and he intended to spend it auditing the loot from the Taowu fiasco leading up to now.

The illuminated interface cast soft shadows on his focused expression.

"[Agility] saved my life once… okay, maybe four times," he muttered, flicking through the stat tabs. "[Strength] helps if [Agility] fails, and [Intelligence] lets me appreciate just how doomed I really am…"

A rueful sigh escaped as he stared at his permanently erroneous [Luck], then at the vast, nonexistent wasteland labelled [Defense]. "Why does the universe mock me like this?"

Still, he redistributed tokens with clinical care:

500 Qi Tokens have been subtracted from your [PROFILE!] (799 → 299)

[Primary Stats] have been updated!

[Strength]: Lv. 27 → Lv. 38

[Agility]: Lv. 50 → Lv. 70

[Intelligence]: Lv. 49 → Lv. 55

Host [Level]: Lv. 39 → Lv. 48

As the numbers settled, a surge of unprecedented energy coursed through him, almost like an icy current. Eathan stilled as goosebumps crawled up his arms. This had never happened before.

"...What was that?"

He patted himself down, brows unfurrowing only when he ensured that he felt nothing uncomfortable internally.

Staring at the new Qi Token count on his interface, Eathan made a mental note of the leftovers. He needed to save at least half, since chances were he'll need them for potential skill activation during the looming Game Three. Still, he cast one last longing glance at the two missing stats. Someday, perhaps, the universe would finally stop laughing at him.

Satisfied, he started to close the panel—then noticed a pulsing new-skill icon at the edge of his display.

"Oh right… the Taowu drop," he breathed, thumb hovering. A tap opened a stark, gold-rimmed window:

[SKILL]: Auspice Ignition (Lv. 1)

▸ EFFECTS: All base stats x5; 50% damage taken is redirected as negative karma debt to the attacker; 'Cleansing Pulse" every 3 seconds: purges malicious arrays, snaps bindings, nullifies low-grade curses.

▸ COST: 700 Karma, 70 Qi Tokens, 7% Humanity

▸ DURATION: 360s

▸ COOLDOWN: 72 hours (real-time)

▸ SIDE-FX: [Calamity Radar] offline and [Auspicious Luck] inverted for 24 hours

Eathan's stomach dropped. Seven percent of Humanity? At his current 73%, he could fire this off nine, maybe ten times before turning into whatever counted as "indiscriminate." And 700 Karma—almost one-fifth of his ledger in one go. But even that was only assuming he'd regained all of his Qi Tokens by then.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Last-resort button," he whispered, fingertips tingling. A mental picture surfaced: the White Tiger finding out his mortal intern had burned away chunks of his soul. The scolding alone might be fatal.

He exhaled, sliding the window away.

Only if it's save-the-planet-or-die, he promised himself. Preferably save-the-planet.

Unfortunately, Eathan's rare solitude ended when Willow grabbed him by the collar. "Training hall, intern. Let's move."

"I didn't sign up—"

"Exactly. You were voluntold."

Dragged along helplessly by Willow—with Finn tagging alongside and Chewie still fixated on her tablet—Eathan entered the communal training hall, a space absurdly adapted for immortals. Gigantic dumbbells hovered beside treadmills explicitly designed for ghosts, and illusionary sparring rings shimmered purple. Eathan scanned around, suddenly envious of Esther's suspiciously convenient absence.

A familiar figure approached—Violet, from Team 006, expression vaguely amused but respectful. She crossed her arms, studying Eathan intently.

"I was told that you're only a mortal intern. Impressive speed in the egg game. Secret agility training?"

Eathan rubbed the nape of his neck. "Er, anxiety and late homework deadlines?"

Violet nodded solemnly. "Mortals truly know suffering."

Behind her, a massive shadow loomed as Cragtooth joined, chuckling deeply enough to rumble the floor. "Suffering? Anxiety? Try babysitting fourteen younger siblings at once. Makes battling gods feel like a weekend spa vacation."

Eathan found himself unexpectedly comforted by the ice demon's weary resignation. Maybe demons had it tough too. "Sounds like a full-time job."

Cragtooth sighed. "And here I thought immortality meant fewer responsibilities."

Just then, one of Lady Foxfire's cheer squad members leaned towards him, eyes sparkling with mischief. "RealmNet adores you, you know. Ever thought about guest-starring in a cheer routine? You have a face meant for pom-poms."

Eathan nearly choked. Is this seriously how inter-realm friendships start?

Before he could react, Willow appeared again, flexing at him with oversized dumbbells. "Less chatting, more existential terror reps. Let's go."

Eathan groaned. "But I've already mastered existential terror."

"Then congrats, you're ahead of the curve. Now lift."

He sighed deeply, watching the cheerful cheerleader wave goodbye before they joined Finn on spectral cardio machines. As for Eathan, he wandered toward the closest piece of equipment, glancing at a monstrous contraption composed of jade bars, levitating weights, and floating handles. He eyed the machine as though it were some eldritch abomination he'd accidentally summoned.

"How exactly does this even… work?" Eathan murmured, trying to measure it from various dubious angles.

Cragtooth lumbered over, his massive shadow swallowing Eathan whole. With a chuckle that rumbled like distant thunder, the ice demon patted the machine fondly. "Upper-body strength trainer. Watch closely, mortal intern."

Eathan stepped back respectfully as Cragtooth adjusted the weights. With practiced ease, the demon grasped the handles, lifting smoothly. Jade weights rose silently, as though respectful of the demon's demonstration.

"See? Easy," Cragtooth said, stepping aside. "Your turn."

Eathan hesitated, then awkwardly positioned himself beneath the bars. He inhaled sharply, braced himself, and heaved upwards with all the determination he could muster—

The bars barely moved.

"Little more effort, kid!"

Eyeing the ice demon, who gave him another reinforcing nod, Eathan took a cautious grip and heaved upwards with a tighter grip. The weights had far more resistance than they appeared. With an exaggerated grunt, he heaved again, veins popping—and felt the bars suddenly give way.

He yelped, stumbling backwards, only narrowly dodging the bar that grazed his chin. His shirt hiked up slightly from the sudden motion.

Finn, passing by at the perfect unfortunate moment, nearly dropped his water, mouth hanging open. "Since when do you have abs? What secret training regime have you been hiding?"

Eathan froze, glancing down, eyes widening. Sure enough, clearly defined muscles met his bewildered gaze, something he'd never consciously built. His mind raced—when exactly did this happen?

It was then the stat increases he'd inputted earlier on his [Primary Stats] popped back into his mind. He had raised each stat by more than ten levels, more than any previous increments before, and perhaps the boost had yielded immediate physical implications this time. Eathan blinked, growing pensive. Still, amidst everyone here—cultivators, divine commanders, and literal demons—he'd never actually noticed the changes. He'd been a pebble among mountains.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I… didn't realize."

Chewie calmly snapped a photo with her holopad, expression blank. "Future blackmail material secured."

Eathan gave her an incredulous look. "Seriously?"

She shrugged, tucking the holopad away. "Insurance policy."

Before he could retort, excited shouts drew everyone's attention. A large circular obstacle track hummed to life nearby him, spectral markers glowing. Bouncing onto the start line was none other than Nezha.

"Printer-boy! Care to race?" He grinned, rolling on his heels. Red silks flowed behind him, twin buns tied neatly atop his head. Beside him stood another Paladin from Team 002—silver-haired, smiley eyes.

"You realize Nezha holds the current record, right?" The Paladin's smile held a quiet challenge.

"I'm not really a runner—"

Eathan swallowed, but before he could decline, Chewie smoothly appeared next to him, nudging him forward.

"No backing out now," the eleven-year-old whispered. "Team pride at stake."

Resigned, Eathan took his position beside Nezha. He flexed his legs, preparing to lose with dignity. "I just raised [Agility] a bit… I don't think—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a sharp chime echoed, signaling the start of the race.

Instinct surged ahead of thought. Eathan blinked—and shot forward like a runaway lightning bolt.

"Wait—"

Colors blurred at the edges of his vision as he rocketed forward, the arena dissolving from his periphery. His legs moved faster than his mind could keep up, heart pounding, a rush of exhilaration mixing with pure panic. To his surprise, Nezha matched him step-for-step, expression shifting from surprise to genuine delight.

"You're fast, receipt-boy!" Nezha called over the wind. "Been secretly training?"

"I…have…no idea!" Eathan gasped, tearing across the course.

His mind scrambled, bypassing spectral obstacles faster than he could even process them. One of the obstacles—a giant translucent jelly—loomed ahead. Instead of weaving around it, he crashed straight through, mouth filling instantly with slime.

He sputtered, coughing up the tasteless ectoplasmic substance, panic rising as his momentum accelerated. He shot past the finish line—and kept going.

"Wait! How do I stop—?!"

Nezha laughed, hopping to a smooth halt as Eathan continued in frantic circles. "Use your brakes!"

"What brakes?!" Eathan shouted, limbs blurring. His bones clattered, the ground beneath threatening to ignite from sheer friction.

Just as he contemplated his fiery demise, a small, strong hand yanked sharply at his collar, bringing his flight to an abrupt halt.

Eathan coughed violently from the abrupt halt, stumbling as he regained footing. He bent forward, hands on knees. After coughing for a good half a minute, he lifted his head to see Chewie holding him steady, rolling her eyes.

"Thank—"

"Don't thank me," she deadpanned. "Thank the universe for not making recklessness lethal."

"..."

Nezha rolled over on his wheels, giving Eathan an approving nod. "Not bad, printer-boy. Might be competition someday."

"Competition?" Violet approached, elegant eyebrows raised. "At that rate, he'll outpace us all soon. What have you been eating, mortal intern? It's only been a day."

Finn grinned. "Panic and deadlines, obviously."

Amidst the cheerful banter echoing behind him, Eathan caught sight of himself in a training mirror. For the first time in weeks, he'd deliberately stopped to get a good look at himself. Ever since obtaining the [SYSTEM], he hadn't consciously tracked his growth. He wasn't given quite a chance to, after all. Life played at double speed, shuttling him from crisis to crisis, rifts to inter-realm competitions, so fast that mortal boundaries blurred completely.

Now, as he stood still in front of the mirror, the reflection staring back was at once familiar but unsettling. Toned muscles, unfamiliar strength, a body sculpted in a matter of weeks. Weeks that felt as brief as a heartbeat yet stretched across a lifetime.

Was this really still within the scope of mortal capability? A quiet unease crept in; just how human was he at this point?

Eathan shook his head vigorously. Nope. Too much existential dread before lunch was unhealthy. What's important was that he'd gotten stronger. Gained the strength that he needed to survive whatever might await him. He shook himself free of the existential spiral.

Besides, he reminded himself, he was given the chance to back out, to return to being a mortal college student. He'd chosen this absurd path himself, hadn't he?

"You're zoning out again," Chewie's voice jolted him back. "Not the ideal place for silent meditation."

"Coming, coming."

Eathan followed her toward the rest, then glanced at the mirror once more.

Sneaking a quick photo of his newfound abs, he hurried after the others, silently promising to never let Finn see the evidence.