Chapter 10: Reverse Testing (Chen Ye's First Test of the System's Limits)

The night was unusually deep.

Moonlight streamed through sparse clouds, stretching the courtyard long and wide. A damp, earthy breeze rustled through the locust tree branches.

Chen Ye sat behind the house, a Type 56 semi-automatic rifle leaning against him, a hunting rifle at his feet, and a pistol at his waist.

His hands, however, were empty.

He closed his eyes, his breathing even.

The aftershocks of the last time his domain went out of control and the system forcibly corrected it still echoed in his mind.

That feeling of being forced to act, forced to react, kept him awake all night.

This time, he decided to take the initiative.

“Space,” Chen Ye said softly, his tone steady, yet tinged with a hint of probing, “I want to know your bottom line.”

—For the first time, he wasn't passively triggered, but actively calling out.

The system didn't respond immediately.

Only a line of gray-white text flashed through his mind:

【Call recorded】

【Initiate reverse testing?】 Chen Ye gritted his teeth and nodded.

—He chose "Confirm."

The space lit up instantly.

Brighter than ever before, the boundaries expanded like transparent glass, the air carrying a metallic chill.

But this time, he didn't directly enter the room-like storage space, but instead—stood in the center of the original mountain forest territory.

He raised his hand, letting his consciousness extend.

The thought was simple:

I control you, but can you control me?

His first reaction was perception.

The river bend, the rocks, the wind direction, the schools of fish, even the pauses of the forest birds, all seemed compressed into a transparent grid.

He could feel the system attempting to "intervene," keeping all living beings neutral, forcing him to make the optimal choice.

But Chen Ye didn't move.

He let his thoughts drift, secretly probing:

"What if I deliberately don't follow your judgment?"

The first "action" was subtle.

He gently placed his hand on the trigger of the shotgun, not pulling it, merely simulating the action of aiming at wild animals.

The system notification popped up:

[Warning: Potential for uncontrolled behavior]

[Suggestion: Restore optimal operation]

Chen Ye's lips curled slightly, continuing his probing.

The second action was bolder: he intended to expand the domain, pushing the spatial suppression beyond the safe threshold.

[System reaction increased]

[Stability decreased]

[Mental load increased to critical level]

But Chen Ye didn't stop.

He let his consciousness float beyond the boundaries, deliberately applying slight interference—making the river flow slightly backward, causing the fallen leaves to rotate in a slightly abnormal direction.

The system notification popped up urgently:

[Warning: High-risk behavior]

[Host's will challenged]

[Take over immediately?]

Chen Ye took a deep breath:

"No."

He whispered, simultaneously pressing his will deep back into his core.

The system paused.

This was the first time Chen Ye felt—the space hesitated.

It was as if it realized that this host was not simply controllable.

He slowly moved his finger, pointing to the location of his three brothers outside the domain.

He intended to simulate a scenario: what he would do if his brothers were caught in the domain.

The system didn't directly force a correction as before, but instead—in a gentle, logical way—appeared a prompt:

[Simulation Intervention Permission Restricted]

[Host Willpower Strength Detection: 85%]

[Suggestion: Continuing to probe will produce irreversible feedback]

Chen Ye smiled slightly.

For the first time, he won the psychological battle.

The space knew he could withstand even greater pressure than before.

The sky was just beginning to brighten, and everything in the forest returned to normal.

The river, the wind, the fallen leaves—all flowed naturally again.

Chen Ye slowly closed his eyes.

His fingers were slightly numb.

He understood three things:

The system wasn't invincible—it could be tested.

The larger the domain, the higher the pressure, the greater the probability of loss of control—he had to control the boundaries himself.

It had already treated him as the true "dominant entity"—the master-servant relationship was no longer absolute.

Inside the house, his younger sister, Chen Xue, woke up early and went to the yard.

"Xiao Ye, did you...not sleep at all last night?" she asked.

Chen Ye shook his head and reached out to touch her head: "It's nothing, I was just thinking."

She looked at him, a glint in her eyes: "Sometimes I can sense that what you do is different from others."

Chen Ye's heart tightened.

"From now on, don't easily approach the domain."

His voice was low and firm, "It's not something you can handle."

She nodded.

Chen Ye watched her back and suddenly understood— The game between the system and the domain had only just begun.

And the real danger wasn't the black market, the beasts, or his brothers.

It was—itself.

The night wind rustled through the locust trees.

The dim light in the courtyard cast the shadow of Chen Ye's clenched fist.

For the first time, he felt—in the face of power, one must always learn to negotiate with oneself and with one's tools.

This time, he won the psychological battle.

Next time, it might be a matter of life and death.