Chapter 17: The First Advancement of Power

“What the hell, I only had six cocktails in total. Why are you charging me over three hundred? Did you make a mistake with the bill? I may be drunk, but I’m not out of my mind. Don’t try to fool me.” Supported by Chen Fan, Li Peijun muttered as he steadied himself.

“Sir, there’s no mistake. This is your tab, and all the details are right here. The most expensive drink, Blue Lover, is our signature cocktail.”

“Blue Lover? I don’t remember drinking that.” Li Peijun’s face was flushed, his memory fuzzy. Chen Fan pointed at himself, giving Li Peijun a hint.

“Hey, you brat, ordering such a pricey drink! Even I’m too stingy to try that high-end cocktail. Just wait until I’m sober tomorrow—I’ll deal with you then.” Li Peijun grumbled as he pulled out his wallet, flipped through it, and found he didn’t have enough cash. He took out his phone to scan the payment code.

“Stop shaking, hold it steady. I can’t line it up.” Li Peijun swayed on his feet, his eyes unfocused.

“Let me scan it for you.” Seeing his state, Chen Fan figured they’d be here till morning if he waited, so he took care of the payment himself.

Li Peijun’s home was quite a distance away. Though the lanky man was light, carrying him all the way would be tough. Chen Fan had a thought, used Li Peijun’s phone to call a car, and sent the drunken fellow home, neatly bundled up.

Back home, Chen Fan didn’t idle. He continued his experiments with plain boiled water.

Some of the originally clear water changed slightly at his touch, while others remained unchanged.

“Before, it was all about taste. Now, is it visual? And these visual changes are visible to others, too.” Chen Fan eyed the glasses of water, tasting them one by one.

The results matched his expectations, but with subtle differences. The water that didn’t change in appearance also didn’t change in taste.

“Does this count as real cola?” Chen Fan looked at the glass that had turned into a fizzy drink, uncertainty flickering in his heart.

His doubts soon faded. After drinking all the cola he’d conjured, he didn’t feel any urge to burp. Apparently, his ability only worked on sight and taste, and the changes could now be perceived by others.

“Is this the first evolution of my power? Just like the Elder said—the more I use it, the deeper the integration becomes.” Chen Fan had a sudden realization. Compared to the Seer or Werewolf cards, the Witch’s effects were more direct and frequent.

“Elder, are you there? I need to talk to you.” Chen Fan yanked open a drawer and took out the Elder card.

Thinking it over, Chen Fan still didn’t know why the system had attached itself to this particular card. In terms of function, it wasn’t all that special; like the rest, it would eventually fuse into his body someday.

The thought of sharing his body with an old man made Chen Fan feel itchy inside.

The Elder, leaning on his cane with one hand and stroking his beard with the other, wore a fashionable eyepatch and a headband to keep his hair in place—a classic meditative pose from the world of cultivators.

Seeing no response, Chen Fan blew warm air toward him a few times, unsure if the Elder could sense it.

“Young man, it’s not polite to disturb an old man’s rest,” the Elder said with gentle annoyance.

Chen Fan grinned, unafraid. “Does your system care about seniority? Tell me, have I improved my control over the Witch card? I can now alter water visually.”

Words were pointless, so Chen Fan filled a few disposable cups with water and demonstrated in front of the Elder. Although his success rate was low, one cup did transform—into a passion fruit tea.

“Well, congratulations. You can open a drink shop now if you wish.” The Elder yawned, clearly unimpressed by such tricks.

Chen Fan pressed on, “But why do I sometimes succeed and sometimes not? And the water that doesn’t change looks and tastes just like regular water, unlike before when the flavor changed without the appearance.”

The Elder pulled out a pair of sunglasses and carefully put them on, then drew out a cigar and began to smoke. “It’s still a matter of insufficient integration. When you master the Witch’s highest ability, whatever you hold in your mind as you grasp a glass of water, it will become reality.”

“One day, even your Elder card will fuse into my body, won’t it?” Chen Fan eyed the stylish old man—he was somehow different from the other cards.

The Elder exhaled a puff of white smoke. “You ought to feel honored. I am, after all, the very last identity card to be integrated. After that, the New Moon Event arc will begin, and your control over the Werewolf card deck will make a qualitative leap.”

Chen Fan stacked the cards in his hand. Today was only the third card; he had no idea how long it would take to try them all.

“What is the New Moon Event? I never heard of it when I played Werewolf.” Chen Fan only vaguely remembered it; the New Moon Event was like a coffin—rumored to exist, but never seen before death.

The Elder snapped his fingers, and a card elegantly appeared before him. “The New Moon Event was designed to make the game harder, but it’s so difficult to balance that you never see it during play. The identity cards inside are the same—many are locked away and have never seen the light of day since they were created.”

“Don’t make it sound so tragic. Life is short. While my powers last, let me drink my fill.” Chen Fan listened with only half an ear, his mind already wandering.

“Arrogant, ignorant youngster, stop disturbing your grandfather’s nap. I get weekends and annual leave too, you know—eight-hour workdays. Goodbye, young man.” The Elder tapped his cane on the ground, and curtains rose on either side of the card, enveloping him completely.

“Amazing…” Chen Fan ran his hand across the face of the card, but the curtains didn’t budge. Now it was just a giant black screen, though unlike an ink stain, it had noticeable folds and ripples.

“Enough of that. Drinking comes first.” Chen Fan tidied up the cards and glued himself to the water dispenser at home.

After a fierce battle, by nightfall Chen Fan hadn’t bothered to pull up his pants. Every three minutes, he dashed to the bathroom, four times in quick succession, each time a total victory.

“Too much of a good thing really is bad,” he muttered, regretting ever clinging to the water dispenser. He’d managed to lower the water level by half, and after all the fuss, it was already midnight.

“Give me the Seer, just once more,” Chen Fan prayed in the bathroom.

Two beams of light intertwined, quickly completing the identity exchange. This time, Chen Fan was truly startled—even his hands trembled.