My organs are too abstract.

After an illness, Xu Yuan discovered two things. First, the world was sick. This seemingly ordinary world had actually been quietly shrouded in anomalies—distorted shadows lurked in the corners, deformed corpses whispered in the dark, eeriness patrolled the urban fabric, and beneath the collapsed ruins, monsters laughed maniacally as they harvested souls. Second, he was sick too. His organs gradually awakened, giving birth to their own wills—his left hand burned with heroism, his eyes were obsessed with the pursuit of truth, his ears were addicted to all secrets and whispers, and his flesh craved pleasure in pain… When the monsters, seemingly invincible in the eyes of the world, once again trembled and crawled at his feet—they said, the old gods are dead. And Xu Yuan would surely ascend to the throne. However, when his left hand, harboring heroic dreams, once again uncontrollably reached for his female boss's leg, Xu Yuan completely lost his composure. "Dude, is this how you act as a hero?!" (Having read several works with over 10,000 subscribers, please feel free to continue reading)