Chapter 1: Descent
Earth, Huaxia.
Summer nights in the Magic City were always wrapped in a lingering, stifling heat. Even in the dead of night, the air blowing from the old air conditioner in the rental room carried a hint of damp stickiness. In this cramped space of less than ten square meters, clothes were draped haphazardly over the back of a chair, and greasy takeout boxes were piled in the corner of the desk. The only light came from the computer screen in front of him. On the screen, the intense sound effects of the game "Delta" continuously played—gunshots and explosions interlaced, forming a strange contrast with the occasional chirping of cicadas outside the window.
A shirtless youth sat slumped in an e-sports chair. Fine beads of sweat clung to his bronze skin, outlining slightly thin but firm muscular lines. He wore only a pair of loose black shorts and flip-flops on his feet. His eyes were fixed on the screen, his bloodshot eyeballs filled with exhaustion; he clearly hadn't rested properly for days. Having attacked relentlessly for four consecutive nights, the dark circles under his eyes were as heavy as makeup, and the blue stubble on his chin gave him a disheveled, almost haggard look. His fingers danced mechanically over the keyboard and mouse, yet he still maintained a frighteningly precise reaction speed, like a machine running on its last reserve of power.
"Just a little bit more, I have to get it!" the youth muttered to himself, his voice as raspy as sandpaper scraping against stone. His throat was so parched that he couldn't help but swallow repeatedly. The computer screen displayed the classic prison map from the game "Delta." The character he controlled carefully avoided patrolling enemies, approaching the massive safe hidden deep within the map step by step. This was his fourth consecutive day attempting to crack this safe, all for the legendary rare item rumored to change one's fate overnight—the Tear of the Ocean.
With precise clicks of the mouse, the tools in the character's hands began to pick the lock of the safe. An "Unlocking" progress bar popped up on the screen, every passing second tormenting the youth's already fragile nerves. He gripped the mouse tightly, his knuckles turning pale from the force, and his breathing grew rapid, his chest rising and falling violently. The moment the progress bar hit one hundred percent, the safe door opened with a low metallic "creak," and a dazzling blue light burst forth, flooding the entire screen with a radiant glow that resembled a condensed drop of boundless sea energy.
"Holy crap! Tear of the Ocean!" The youth suddenly sprang up from his chair, his eyes wide as he stared at the gemstone item emitting a brilliant azure brilliance, his entire body trembling with excitement. The exhaustion of four sleepless days seemed to vanish in that instant, replaced by a surge of adrenaline. However, the backlash of overexertion came just as quickly. His vision began to blur, the game's sound effects faded into distant echoes, and a powerful dizziness surged like a collapsing tide. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as the world spun violently. In the next second, he lost consciousness, his body collapsing heavily onto the cold floor, while the computer screen remained frozen on the interface displaying that radiant Tear of the Ocean.
An unknown amount of time passed. When he opened his eyes again, the world had completely changed. Before him stood a middle-aged man who appeared to be in his forties, with long flowing golden hair and a pair of calm yet imposing eyes that carried an indescribable sacred authority. His original body had already transformed into that of a small infant, cradled securely within the man's arms.
"What the hell! Who is this?" he tried to shout in shock.
However, to his horror, what came out was only a weak "waa-waa" cry—the helpless wailing of a newborn. He instinctively raised his hand to express his confusion, only to see a soft, chubby, fair little hand waving in front of him. That was unmistakably the hand of a baby!
In the next moment, a gentle smile appeared on the middle-aged man's face. He reached out and lightly rubbed the infant's small hand; his palm was warm, yet it carried a steady and vast aura, like a calm sea hiding unfathomable depth. His voice was deep and resonant, filled with authority that seemed to echo with spiritual power: "From today onward, you are my grandson—Qian Yang, of the Qian family of Spirit Hall."
"Holy crap! Douluo Continent? Am I actually transmigrated?" Qian Yang's consciousness trembled violently, as if struck by a bolt of heavenly lightning. His chaotic thoughts instantly cleared, and memories surged like a flood—the cultivation system of Spirit Masters, Spirit Rings obtained from soul beasts, Martial Souls awakening at the age of six, and the supreme existence known as Spirit Hall. And standing before him now was none other than the legendary High Priest of Spirit Hall, the Level 99 Ultimate Douluo, the guardian of the Angel God inheritance—Qian Daoliu! His pupils shrank in shock. "You've got to be kidding me… grabbing a game item actually sent me into this world? What kind of ridiculous transmigration logic is this!"
His cries still sounded like meaningless infant babbling, but within his mind, his thoughts roared like a storm. Just then, a loud and hearty laugh sounded from behind Qian Daoliu.
"Hahaha, Big Brother, it seems this little fellow quite likes the name!"
Qian Yang turned toward the voice and saw a tall middle-aged man clad in dazzling golden battle armor stepping forward. The armor was exquisitely crafted, covered in intricate angelic patterns that faintly emitted a sacred glow, clearly a top-tier spirit tool. Under the illumination of light, it shone brilliantly, as if reflecting the divine radiance of the Angel God itself. The man stood straight as a spear, his features somewhat resembling Qian Daoliu's. His gaze was sharp and commanding, and an intense aura of battle-hardened strength surrounded him—this was unmistakably one of Spirit Hall's titled Douluo, the Golden Crocodile Douluo.
Hearing this, Qian Daoliu's smile deepened. A faint golden radiance began to ripple around his body, forming a halo that carried a sacred and oppressive aura unique to the Seraphim lineage. In the next moment, the light expanded outward, enveloping both of them.
Qian Yang felt his vision distort slightly. The two figures who had been standing firmly on the ground began to rise slowly into the air. Without releasing any visible Spirit Rings, they ascended effortlessly, flying toward the distant horizon—a clear display of a Limit Douluo's terrifying control over soul power.
"Holy crap! Holy crap!" Qian Yang screamed internally, his mind nearly exploding from shock. "I've actually become Qian Daoliu's grandson? Doesn't that mean I'm in the same generation as Qian Renxue? But her future… and Tang San!" At the thought of Tang San, the future Sea God and Shura God, Qian Yang couldn't help but feel a chill run through his tiny body. "Am I destined to get crushed by the protagonist? I'm just a game-addicted shut-in! No cheat, no system, nothing—this is straight-up Hell difficulty!"
"System! Where is my System?! Come out already!!!"
He waved his tiny hands helplessly, but his infant body could barely respond to his frantic will. No matter how many times he called out internally, no familiar voice, no interface, no golden finger appeared.
"It's over… I'm finished! I'm not even a direct descendant with a guaranteed Seraphim Martial Soul! What if I don't inherit the Six-Winged Angel at all?!"
Soon, the two powerful figures returned to the sacred heart of Spirit Hall—Spirit City—arriving before the solemn and majestic Hall of Worship. The hall stood tall and radiant, filled with statues of angels, each one exuding an ancient divine pressure that seemed to suppress even the air itself.
The moment they stepped inside, a crisp and childish voice rang out.
"Grandpa! Grandpa Golden Crocodile! You're back!!"
A little girl wearing a slightly dirty white dress ran over energetically. Though her clothes were stained, her delicate and exquisite features, along with her faint golden hair, already revealed an extraordinary temperament.
"Where did Xiao Xue run off to this time? Why are you so dirty?" Qian Daoliu said with a gentle smile, crouching down and affectionately patting her head.
"Grandpa, who is this?" the little girl asked curiously.
As she spoke, she reached out her small hand and grabbed Qian Yang's tiny fingers.
At the instant their hands touched, the Angel God statue deep within the Hall suddenly erupted with brilliant golden light. A sacred aura descended, and faint phantom wings seemed to unfold behind the statue.
"Divine Resonance!" Qian Daoliu's expression changed drastically as he murmured in shock. Then, his face broke into uncontrollable laughter. "Hahaha! Xue'er, from today onward, you are no longer alone! This is your younger brother—Qian Yang!"
The golden light continued to ripple through the hall, as if acknowledging the birth of another existence tied to the Angel God's lineage.