Proficiency Soars

My Golden Finger has arrived.

Zhou An set down the cleaver, washed his hands, and calmly rubbed his eyes.

Knife Skills lv.1: 1/10000

He was certain this was no hallucination. Everything before his eyes was real.

It was just that this thing gave him an inexplicable sense of déjà vu.

After thinking for a while, Zhou An picked up the cleaver again and sliced horizontally through the pork with its edge.

Knife Skills +1

Knife Skills lv.1: 2/10000

Smack!

He tossed the cleaver aside.

Zhou An was sure now. This was the little game he had made in his previous life, called the Life System.

As the name suggested, it was meant for grinding life skills.

In his previous life, an indie game developer had made a game centered around grinding life skills, and it had sold hugely online.

Zhou An had copied the tiger by drawing the cat, ridden that wave, and made a modest profit himself.

As for why he was certain this was the little game from his previous life, it was because of the "lv.1" at the end.

Even copying had to leave some room for originality, so he had added levels afterward.

Other people put lv.1 at the front. He put lv.1 at the back.

And he had added a few more things, too.

Every transformation would grant a special ability. As for what that ability would be, even he, the creator, had no idea.

That was because he had set up a whole heap of flashy, bizarre abilities, then assigned them at random.

With every increase in level, the upper limit of proficiency would rise as well.

Zhou An was now utterly certain that his Golden Finger had come from himself.

Had I known this would happen, I would've designed a game where I was invincible from the start.

Who could have imagined he would transmigrate? And who could have imagined that after transmigrating, he would bring along a game from his previous life?

Zhou An looked at the proficiency requirement behind it, and his liver began to ache.

The entire purpose behind the game's design had been to make players grind, letting them find pleasure in the process of grinding.

But now that it was his turn, Zhou An could only describe it with one sentence.

Every cause must bear its fruit; your retribution is me.

Grind it, then. At least it's a Golden Finger.

Thinking of how this world was fraught with danger and crawling with strange horrors, Zhou An felt that the abilities gained with every level-up of this Golden Finger could let him live quite comfortably.

But the prerequisite was that he had to grind.

Zhou An silently picked up the cleaver from the table and took a deep breath.

"In my previous life, people said there was a man living inside my liver."

Thud!

The cleaver fell onto the chopping board. Zhou An arranged the meat, raised the cleaver again, and began slicing it bit by bit.

Knife Skills +1

A line of text floated before his eyes.

Zhou An felt that this time, he truly had to learn from Lu Zhishen and mince it finely into stuffing.

In the dead of night, with no one around, the moon shone bright and the stars were sparse.

From a secluded alley came a steady chorus of chopping sounds.

The next day.

The fiery sun rose in the east, painting a touch of heat across the desolate streets.

The clamor of the bustling market soon followed.

Zhou An set down the cleaver, sat in his chair, and tipped back his head.

His arm was numb and sore beyond measure. He had chopped things for an entire night, without stopping.

Vegetables, meat, and rice on the chopping board had all been minced into a fine paste. Even half the chopping board itself had been chopped away.

The cleaver's edge had curled, and it lay discarded casually to one side.

New text appeared before his eyes.

Knife Skills (Speed +1) lv.2: 1/20000

After an entire night, even he did not know how many times he had brought the blade down.

At first, every chop had added one point of proficiency, but the further he went, the slower his proficiency increased.

This was him digging a pit for himself. Back then, to stop certain grinding maniacs who played day and night from graduating too soon, he had slapped this setting onto the game.

Just what kind of thing did I design?

Life was not easy. Zhou An sighed.

An inexplicable current of air appeared within his body.

It circled and flowed through him, making his numb, aching right arm feel slightly better.

"It's almost time to clock in."

Only after his right arm felt a little better did Zhou An stand up.

Clocking in was similar to checking in for work.

He had not slept all night, nor had he eaten. His stomach growled loudly.

There was no time to cook now, so Zhou An got dressed, headed out, and grabbed a quick bite from a breakfast stall.

Before leaving, he instinctively picked up the cleaver from the table and gave it a casual swing.

A blurred afterimage swept through the air. By the time the cleaver landed back on the chopping board, he had not even seen how he had swung it.

Once Knife Skills reached lv.2, the extra Speed +1 applied only to Knife Skills. It gave no bonus in other areas.

"Just one point gives me this kind of speed. If I keep grinding, I'll strike it rich."

With a Golden Finger in hand, he was in high spirits. After breakfast, Zhou An went to the yamen to clock in.

Today's Patrol Constable duty had not yet come around to him.

After clocking in, it was the same old routine. Returning to that room, Zhou An found a seat, poured himself a cup of tea, and sipped it slowly.

It was a thoroughly lazy life. If not for the strange horrors, Zhou An felt this life was far better than his previous one.

After all, the end of the universe was a secure government post.

Though a constable's post was the lowest rank, he was still eating from the public coffers.

Two words—utterly comfortable.

He drained his cup of tea.

One after another, his colleagues arrived in the room. Everyone chatted while drinking tea.

Yu Hang was the last to arrive. After entering, he dropped heavily into the seat beside Zhou An and sighed repeatedly.

"The work Drunken Spring Pavilion in An Ding County knows should not be much. I'll teach you a little—this, that, and the other..."

Zhou An had been chatting with the constable beside him, discussing topics that men understood without explanation.

Only after hearing Yu Hang sigh did Zhou An glance at him curiously.

"Did you go late yesterday and get chewed out by the Private Tutor?"

Though Yu Hang paid for the lessons himself, ever since the Xingwu Emperor reformed the Imperial Examination, literary culture had flourished, and Private Tutors had risen with the tide. Going late meant a thorough verbal lashing was unavoidable.

Yu Hang shook his head. "It wasn't that I got scolded. The tutor just said I should go earlier from now on. If I go late, he won't teach me."

Zhou An was even more puzzled. "In the past, as long as it wasn't the middle of the night, didn't he always teach?"

Before, even if Yu Hang went after dinner, the Private Tutor would still teach him. But today's situation seemed rather off.

Yu Hang sighed again. "Recently, strange things have been happening at night on the street where the tutor lives. He's worried I'll be heading home too late."

"What strange things?" Zhou An asked.

"They say that when someone passed by, he encountered a Gray Rat. The rat acted like a person, actually pressing its paws together and bowing to him. After he went home, he fell seriously ill." Yu Hang's tone was gloomy.

For people in their line of work, to put it bluntly, you could slack off, but you could not fail to show up.

When you slacked off, people could keep one eye open and one eye shut. But if you truly did not show up, then there was nothing to discuss.

"I can only skip dinner and go straight there." Yu Hang wailed.

Zhou An patted Yu Hang on the shoulder in consolation.

Just then, a set of footsteps sounded.

Master Zhang, thin and bearded, a man past fifty, walked in.

"Everyone, bring your gear. We're heading out on patrol."