Chapter Two: The Sole Host

Just as Fan Bei was delving deeper into the Illusory White Tome, a sudden, urgent alarm sounded in the study.

“Warning, warning, signs of evil spirit infiltration detected in the agricultural zone. Relevant personnel, please proceed for immediate inspection.”

The alarm repeated itself three times in a row.

Fan Bei understood at once—this was the shelter’s management system triggering an automatic alert.

He rose swiftly from his desk at the sound, pushed open the study door, and stepped into the living room.

In one corner of the living room lay a large white Labrador, its coat snowy and unmarred, not a stray hair out of place. The dog was beautiful, though a bit on the lean side. It was busy rolling a metal ball across the floor, occasionally trying to bite it.

As soon as the dog saw Fan Bei, it dashed over excitedly, barking and nudging him with its head.

“Da Bai, something urgent came up. I’ll play with you later.” Fan Bei tossed out the words, and the white dog obediently withdrew, returning to its ball.

Fan Bei hurried to a pale gold room opposite the study, marked “Armory.” Upon entering, he saw a suit of golden armor hanging on the wall to the left of the door, faintly glowing with a golden sheen. The plates covered the torso, limbs, and head, all partially open, resembling a crab with its shell lifted.

With practiced ease, he leaned back, causing all the plates to close around him, finishing with the face guard.

In less than a minute, Fan Bei was encased in a fully sealed suit of golden armor, standing at one meter eighty, imposing and formidable—though he knew well enough it was all for show.

Fully armored, he dashed out of the armory, opened the living room door, and hurried outside.

A spacious, silvery-white hall stretched before him, brightly lit and the size of two football fields. Rows upon rows of glass racks stood neatly in formation. In one corner, a glass rack was flashing red.

When Fan Bei emerged, the white dog in the living room abandoned its ball and followed him out, but instead of clinging to Fan Bei, it raced ahead toward the flashing rack.

A surge of warmth filled Fan Bei’s heart as he too sped toward the spot.

The golden armor looked heavy but was actually light, the gold merely a surface plating.

After sprinting several dozen meters, he reached the flashing glass rack. Nearby, in a cluster of cultivation tanks, green cucumbers were growing.

Inside one tank, two cucumber vines were marked by gray-white patches—the telltale beginning of corruption.

A red button was set on the tank; pressing it would unleash a jet of high-temperature flames inside the sealed chamber, incinerating everything. Of course, the tank would then be ruined, requiring new resources to make it usable again.

Fan Bei often weighed the severity of the situation: if mild, he’d remove the affected plants for burning rather than simply press the button and destroy the tank and nutrient solution.

But today, neither method appealed. The situation wasn’t dire—perfect for testing the new crossing-over gift he’d just obtained.

He focused his mind, summoning the Illusory White Tome before him.

He’d already discovered only he could see the book; otherwise, Da Bai would have tried to snatch it to play with the moment they entered the living room.

Earlier, when he was tired, the Illusory White Tome had actively released mental energy to restore his strength.

This time, dealing with the creeping corruption in the plants, he needed to purify them.

[Purify!]

He stared at the two gray-white cucumber vines, the command flashing through his mind.

At once, two streams of white light appeared before him, passing effortlessly through the sealed silvery tank and enveloping the vines.

In the next instant, to his utter elation, the gray-white marks vanished without a trace.

At the same time, the red warning on the glass rack went out, replaced by the normal white glow.

This meant the shelter’s management system had detected the absence of any evil spirit incursion.

Da Bai barked excitedly, as if he too understood.

Success!

Fan Bei clenched his fist—he finally had a way to resolve corruption entirely on his own, even if communications were severed.

The previous two methods, though simple, were far too limited. They sufficed for plants, but if a person was infected, all they could do was endure.

Da Bai himself had once shown similar gray-white marks; many wanted him put down immediately, but Fan Bei had argued for observation.

It wasn’t sentimentality—he wanted to see if humans and dogs responded differently, and his suggestion won more support.

In the end, the big dog survived the corruption unscathed and grew much smarter—at times, his behavior was not unlike a human child from Fan Bei’s previous life.

Now, Fan Bei finally possessed a means to cure corruption completely, without resorting to destruction.

With Da Bai his only animal companion, he no longer had to fear the dog might not survive another wave of evil.

After handling the emergency, Fan Bei made a thorough inspection of the agricultural zone.

The walls encasing the area were solid copper. It had long been discovered that gold, silver, and copper all helped resist evil spirit intrusion, with effectiveness decreasing in that order. The shelter’s gates and walls were gold-plated at minimum, silver in some places, but copper was cheapest and most commonly used.

Inside the agricultural zone, more than a hundred glass racks stood in neat rows.

Each rack was divided into three tiers, half a meter apart, each holding silver-white, fully sealed cultivation tanks.

Currently, only a tenth of the tanks thrived with vegetables, fruits, or grains.

Modern indoor agriculture, with sunlamps, nutrient solutions, temperature regulation, and more, could produce a harvest in as little as two weeks, or as long as two months, depending on the crop.

This was the foundation of the shelter’s continued existence, also providing a measure of oxygen and air purification.

Food was paramount. To ensure prompt handling of any problems, Fan Bei had moved his residence to the agricultural zone.

His current home, Room 304, was once a staff duty room.

After his inspection revealed nothing else amiss, he called Da Bai and returned to his room.

Back in the living room, Da Bai, feeling quite proud of himself, clung to Fan Bei, refusing to let him go, pointing at the metal ball with a look of disdain.

“Haven’t I told you? When you finally break that metal ball, I’ll make you a new toy.” Fan Bei spread his hands.

He really didn’t have the time to entertain a dog. Ever since Da Bai had repeatedly destroyed every collected toy, Fan Bei had come up with this solution—a trick he’d remembered from his previous life.

Of course, this only worked with clever, obedient dogs like Da Bai. It was no use for more aggressive creatures.

Hearing this, Da Bai stared at the ball, crestfallen. The dark iron egg was covered in shallow tooth and tongue marks, but remained stubbornly intact.

He bared his fangs at the ball, but after a moment, closed his mouth and behaved himself.

One day, he vowed, I’ll break you. Then my master will make me a new toy.

He glared at the iron ball, full of determination.

Fan Bei paid the sulking Da Bai no mind—he was relaxed now, and returned to his desk to attend to truly pressing matters.

The Illusory White Tome’s greatest use had already become clear: a formidable, mysterious power—“wish fulfillment.”

The only prerequisite was sufficient mental energy; other limitations would have to be discovered in time.

For now, though, the abilities to restore stamina and purify corruption were more than enough.

His next task was to increase the number of active hosts, accumulating more mental energy.

He opened the cover with his mind and checked the current reserve.

“Mental Energy: 10,009 points.”

One point less than before.

He’d once thought that after creating the system, he could assign it to a suitable host. Now, however, he realized that was easier said than done.

There was no one left in the shelter but himself and Da Bai.

And the “Father of Systems” manual made it clear: one cannot equip a system of one’s own making.

Which left just one potential host—the silly Da Bai, still struggling with his iron ball…