Xiaohuo never imagined his destiny would change forever during what was supposed to be an ordinary graduation trip.
He was just an average young man living in the city—not particularly handsome, about 178 centimeters tall, slightly chubby, and his skin was pale from years of late-night gaming. His family was middle-class; his parents ran a small restaurant, giving him a life that was stable but dull. Throughout his four years at university, Xiaohuo drifted through his studies—not a top student, but not the worst either. His only real interests were web novels and all things anime. During his downtime, he'd team up with friends to play online games, occasionally daydreaming about being the protagonist in a novel—one who could turn his life around overnight and reach the pinnacle of success.
Reality, however, was always bland, sometimes bordering on tedious. As graduation approached, a few of his close friends suggested a spontaneous trip. The destination was the ancient Maya city—an exotic place shrouded in mystery. Xiaohuo was hesitant at first, mainly because of the cost, but under the constant goading of his buddies and spurred by a latent sense of adventure, he finally used his credit card, got his passport, and boarded a flight to Central America with the gang.
The weather in the ancient Maya city was even more stifling than Xiaohuo had expected. The thick air was saturated with the earthy scent of soil and the fragrance of tropical plants. The moment he stepped off the plane, he was struck by the mysterious atmosphere of the land. Their tour guide was a middle-aged local named Luis, with sunglasses and a rough stubble. He led a group of travelers from around the world through jungles, pyramids, and ancient temples, narrating tales of the sun god, the feathered serpent, and lost civilizations.
Xiaohuo hung onto every word, even though the language barrier made things a bit challenging. The Maya civilization's mystery, grandeur, and brutality kept conjuring up scenes from the web novels he loved—stories about transmigration, leveling up, divine artifacts, and miraculous adventures. He secretly fantasized that if he could encounter a bit of adventure himself, the trip would be worth every penny.
On the third day, the group was set to explore a newly opened Maya underground site. Luis, looking especially secretive, claimed that this place had never been open to the public before, and it was said to be an ancient site for rituals and sacrifices, hiding all sorts of treasures and curses. Xiaohuo was both excited and apprehensive; his curiosity was fully ignited.
By noon, under the blazing sun, dozens of tourists trailed Luis into the dense jungle. Xiaohuo wiped the sweat from his brow, cursing himself for forgetting sunscreen. The heat was oppressive, but his anticipation kept his steps light. After about an hour of trekking, they reached a cave entrance. It was small, half-covered by vines and moss, with a wooden sign in Spanish warning, "Danger: Do Not Enter."
Luis grinned mysteriously and explained that this was once a sacred place where Maya priests communicated with the gods, rarely visited by outsiders. He instructed everyone to put on headlamps and form a single file as they entered. The cave was dark and damp, filled with the smell of earth and mold. Xiaohuo walked in the middle of the group, his heart pounding.
The underground passage twisted and turned, sometimes wide, sometimes narrow, forcing them to squeeze through sideways at points. The faint light from the headlamps revealed faded murals and symbols on the stone walls—strange human figures and animal totems. As they walked, Luis spoke in a low, grave tone about the legends of the place: Maya priests bringing the most beautiful maidens for sacrifice, praying for harvest and peace; sometimes, warriors would leap into the underground river, offering their lives for their tribe's glory.
Xiaohuo felt a chill run down his spine but was also increasingly fascinated. Every inch of the air seemed to hide indescribable secrets. Ideas for new novels started popping into his head—maybe he'd write an adventure story when he got back home; who knew, it might even make him famous.
After a long trek, the group stopped by an underground lake. The water's surface was like a mirror, reflecting the flickering headlamps on the stone walls. Luis pointed at a protruding stone platform by the lake, explaining that it was once an altar, and according to legend, the lake's depths contained a hidden current leading deeper underground. The ancient Maya believed the water connected to the realm of the gods—a bridge between the underworld and heaven.
Tourists snapped photos, awed by the natural wonder. Xiaohuo also stepped up to the lake, gazing at the inky-black water. Suddenly, his foot slipped—he lost his balance and lurched forward.
"Ah!" Xiaohuo cried out, tumbling into the lake.
Cold water enveloped him instantly, drowning out all sound but the rushing current and the distant shouts of his companions. He thrashed desperately, feeling as if something was dragging him downward. In his panic, his mind flashed with images—his parents, friends, graduation, his unpaid credit card bills, and that dream of becoming a novelist.
"Am I really going to die here?" A wave of icy fear washed over him.
But then, his foot struck a protruding stone. Instinctively, he pushed off with all his might, shooting into a narrow crevice. In the darkness, the current tossed him about until he slammed hard against a rock wall.
"Ow…" Xiaohuo gasped as pain shot through his arm. He forced his eyes open and found himself in a small, enclosed cave. Overhead, a faint beam of light pierced the darkness. Driven by instinct, he swam toward it, finally hauling himself onto a dry stone ledge, where he collapsed, gasping for air.
As his breathing slowed, Xiaohuo began to take in his surroundings. The cave was small, its walls covered in strange symbols and carvings—some depicted animals, some human figures, and others, bizarre characters he couldn't decipher. In the center of the stone platform sat a black, ancient-looking box, inlaid with several colorful gems. On the lid was an engraving of a bird with outstretched wings.
It was like something straight out of a fantasy novel. Wide-eyed, Xiaohuo's heart raced.
He approached the box, reaching out to touch its cold surface, his fingers trembling as they traced the inlaid gems. The box seemed to radiate a mysterious energy, drawing him in with both allure and dread.
"Could this really be some kind of legendary artifact?" Xiaohuo whispered.
A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind. Should he open it? Take it with him? What if it was cursed? But after surviving such a close brush with death, curiosity and greed won out.
"Screw it!" he muttered, taking a deep breath. With both hands, he slowly lifted the lid…
Chapter 1: A Twist of Fate – The Maya Ruins Encounter (Part 2)
As the lid slowly creaked open, a chill ran from Xiaohuo's fingertips straight to his heart. He held his breath, eyes wide and pounding with anticipation. Inside the box, there were no gold coins, no jewels or skeletons—only a swirling cluster of white, luminous mist, as if a centuries-old dream had been sealed away, quietly coiling within the box.
In that very instant, the mist began to churn violently. Countless tiny points of light emerged from the fog, like an army of microscopic fireflies, each glowing with its own faint hue: some blue, some green, some golden, some tinged with purple. The points of light danced above the box, swirling and twinkling in a dazzling display that seemed almost otherworldly.
Xiaohuo was utterly transfixed. All his fear melted away, replaced by a sense of awe—the scene was so beautiful, it didn't feel real. Then, in a heartbeat, as if obeying some silent command, the lights surged out of the box. They swept past his fingers, across his chest and face, scattering toward the cave's walls, the cracks between rocks, and even vanishing into thin air as if slipping through invisible seams in the world.
For a few seconds, Xiaohuo felt as though thousands of gentle electric currents caressed his skin, leaving him tingling and numb. In the depths of his mind, he heard a chorus of whispers—ancient, mysterious words, like a forgotten incantation or the wind brushing past his ears. Deep inside, he seemed to hear countless voices murmuring: "Release… Belonging… Domination…"
He shuddered, his hand slipping as the lid clattered to the ground. Stumbling back, he stared at the now-empty box, light fading as the last wisps of mist vanished, leaving the cave in darkness once more.
"What the hell… is this thing?" Xiaohuo gasped, drenched in cold sweat.
He stared at the empty box, mind reeling. Was it all a hallucination? Had he breathed in some sort of hallucinogenic gas? Xiaohuo tried to rationalize what he'd just seen, but nothing made sense.
Moments later, the cave's silence was broken by faint, distant shouts—the voices of the guide and other tourists searching for him. Xiaohuo realized he'd been missing for quite a while. He snatched up the box, not daring to let anyone else find it. Forcing himself to calm down, he followed the faint light and sounds of running water, squeezing through a narrow crevice until, after a long struggle, he finally emerged into an open space.
As soon as he surfaced, a bright light flashed in his face. Luis, the guide, was there with several staff, searching anxiously. Seeing Xiaohuo crawl out, covered in mud and soaked, they breathed a collective sigh of relief and rushed to check on him. Xiaohuo tried to play it cool, saying he'd just slipped and fallen into the water, and barely managed to climb out. Since he had no serious injuries, no one pressed him for details.
By the time they returned to the surface, dusk had fallen. The sunset cast golden light through the jungle. Clutching the ancient box, Xiaohuo felt as if he'd just awakened from a bizarre dream. He was exhausted, his mind spinning with a mix of relief, confusion, and anticipation. All he could think of were those firefly-like spirits and the strange voices that echoed in his mind. It was all so unreal, yet felt more real than anything he'd experienced.
At dinner, his friends crowded around, joking about his luck and calling him the "main character" of the trip. Xiaohuo forced a smile, but inside, he was restless. His hand kept drifting to the box hidden in his bag, tracing the intricate carvings on its surface—proof that what happened was no dream.
That night, he tossed and turned in his hotel bed, the box resting beside his pillow. He stared at it, lost in thought. The spirits had vanished, leaving only an empty black shell, as if nothing had happened. He searched his phone for anything related to "ancient Maya boxes," "relics," "spirit possession," but all he found were myths and internet fiction.
"Did I really stumble into a legendary adventure?" Xiaohuo muttered, his heart beating with both excitement and unease. He had no idea where those "hundred spirits" had gone, nor how this twist of fate would alter his life forever.
What Xiaohuo didn't know was that, far away in the city, a graceful socialite was suddenly waking from a dream, her eyes filled with confusion and longing. At a prestigious university, a famous campus belle was dreaming of kneeling before a shadowy figure, her cheeks flushed. Elsewhere, a celebrity woke up with a strange sense of devotion she couldn't explain…
The spirits had quietly slipped into every corner of the world, hiding among people. Xiaohuo's fantastical life of enslavement had only just begun.
(End of Chapter 1. In Chapter 2, Xiaohuo's life in the city begins to change, and the first "enslaved" appears.)