-doujindesu.tv--came-into-the-martial-arts-nove... File

Chapter 6: The Choice at the End of the World Kaito's hand hovered over the phone. One touch, and he would wake up in his cramped apartment, cold coffee on the desk, the novel still open on his laptop. Lin Feiyu would continue his journey alone. The betrayals would happen. The dumpling cook would die.

In front of him, carved into a stone tablet, were four characters: — Heaven-Splitting Sword Sect .

"I just do. Trust me, or don't. But if you want to save them, you'll need to walk a different road."

Not the usual pop-up ad flicker. This was a deep, pulsing blue light that spilled out of the monitor like water from a cracked dam. Kaito stumbled backward, knocking over his chair. The light coiled around his desk, his hands, his chest. He tried to scream, but the sound was swallowed by a rushing wind. -Doujindesu.TV--Came-Into-The-Martial-Arts-Nove...

And then—nothing.

Lin Feiyu lowered his sword. "Tell me."

But he also remembered something else: in the original story, an unnamed extra dies in chapter 48. He's described in one sentence: "A young man in a gray hood, foreign and foolish, was the first to fall into the spider pit." Chapter 6: The Choice at the End of

So he did the only thing a modern shut-in with no martial arts training could do: he cheated.

When the Falling Leaf Trial began, Kaito didn't fight. He danced . He sidestepped pitfalls that hadn't yet triggered, ducked under swinging axes that others couldn't see, and walked through the spider pit by stepping on the exact three stones that wouldn't break.

The final line now read differently than he remembered. The betrayals would happen

So when Lin Feiyu approached him after the trial—bruised, exhausted, but still carrying that stubborn hope—Kaito made a choice. Instead of warning him about the betrayals to come, he told him a half-truth.

Lin Feiyu nodded slowly. "Then we'd better make those pages worth reading."

The site was still open. Doujindesu.tv. The chapter list. And at the very bottom, a button that had never been there before: