Azure Continent, Mortal Plane.
The blazing sun stood high above the clouds, bathing the world in blinding radiance. White clouds drifted lazily across a clear blue sky, where gigantic birds soared with a majesty of their own.
The Great Dragon Kingdom—an empire that had stood for thousands of years across vast lands—welcomed yet another auspicious day for its people.
Clear Sky Sect.
One of the dozens of sects that ruled the cultivation world of the Great Dragon Kingdom. A second-rate force, yet still an imposing existence, its territory spanning endless mountain ranges.
Sunlight poured over the Clear Sky Sect. The streets bustled with disciples clad in sect uniforms, while the skies were filled with monstrous beasts and men riding flying swords.
A world of fantasy.
A world of cultivation.
At the edge of the outer sect, near a dense forest, small birds circled a lone, dilapidated hut.
Mud walls on the verge of collapse.
A straw roof barely shielding against rain.
Giant holes serving as windows.
A broken fireplace coated in ash.
Calling it a residence would be generous.
"FUCK DRAGON KINGDOM!!!"
BOOOOOOOM!
"Aaah—! Huf… huff… huff…"
A startled scream rang out from inside the hut, sending the nearby creatures scattering.
Inside, a young man lay panting on a creaking wooden cot. His chest rose and fell violently as sweat drenched his sickly, pale face.
Thin.
Malnourished.
Weak.
He clutched his chest, shuddering as the nightmare replayed itself in his mind.
"Not again…"
His voice was hoarse as he shut his eyes, forcing himself to calm down.
"When will these nightmares end…?"
With a tired sigh, he collapsed back onto the cot.
Creeeak…
The cot groaned under his weight.
The young man opened his eyes and stared blankly at the hut's ceiling.
"Even with this body's memories… it's still hard to adjust to this place."
His dark brown eyes were filled with confusion and exhaustion.
"Two weeks…"
Damon muttered softly.
"Two weeks since I transmigrated into this…"
…this cultivation world.
Yes. Transmigration.
That magical phenomenon beloved by webnovel readers—the transfer of soul, consciousness, and identity into another life.
"Fuck it…"
Damon cursed under his breath as memories of his final moments on Earth resurfaced.
Damon—formerly Allen.
An orphan who had somehow made it into a prestigious medical school. Publicly, a model student devoted to medicine. Privately?
A top-tier webnovel addict.
Morning, noon, evening, night—his life revolved around novels.
Original works.
Fanfics.
Manhwas.
Manhuas.
MTLs.
Eighteen hours of screen time a day.
Absolutely unhinged.
His final read had been an MTL.
Billion Times Multiplier! I Am Invincible!
A story about an outer sect disciple of the Clear Sky Sect who bound an artifact equivalent to the heavens—one that could multiply anything by a billion times.
Cultivation effort.
Comprehension.
Practice results.
Gold.
Herbs.
Anything.
A truly broken cheat.
Unlike the ninety-nine percent of clickbait trash with similar titles, this novel delivered exactly what it promised. The protagonist was overpowered from the very first chapter.
But no novel was perfect.
Terrible grammar.
Pronouns changing every other sentence.
A brain-dead protagonist.
Pokémon-style harem.
Rape.
Nationalism.
Racism.
Endless cliché face-slapping.
Allen had endured hundreds of chapters purely out of veteran reader stubbornness.
Until he finally snapped.
"Fuck Dragon Kingdom!"
That had been his last curse—
—before red lightning tore through the sky and erased his existence.
Damon shuddered.
"Sigh…"
He sat up and grabbed the poorly folded cultivation robe beside him, his expression twisting with disgust.
"I hate this life."
Now he was Damon.
An outer sect disciple.
Dirt poor.
Orphaned.
Trash-tier talent.
His only purpose in the sect was running errands for stronger disciples and elders—barely surviving day to day.
"In three days… the inner sect assessment."
Damon tied his robe slowly.
"I'm still stuck at the second layer of the Apprentice Realm."
Three days.
Fail, and he would either be demoted to a handyman disciple—or expelled outright.
This world's cultivation began with the Apprentice Realm, barely above mortal limits. After that came the Qi Sensing Realm.
Anyone under eighteen with spirit roots could join the outer sect.
But once eighteen arrived…
No Qi Sensing Realm meant one thing:
Useless trash.
"…Damn it!"
Damon clenched his fists. His heart felt bitter as he thought of himself getting demoted.
"The plot should've started by now."
Three days before the trial.
That was when it was supposed to bind.
The golden finger.
The cheat.
But two weeks had passed, and nothing had happened.
"If I don't get it…"
Damon exhaled slowly as he stepped out of the hut, shielding his eyes from the blazing sun.
"I'm leaving the sect."
He had no intention of becoming a so-called handyman disciple—a glorified slave and meat shield.
If cultivation failed, he would retreat to the mortal world.
Open a business.
Make money.
Live comfortably.
Modern knowledge still held value—even here.
"…Whatever."
He shook his head, cutting off his thoughts.
Overthinking wouldn't change reality.
"Whatever happens, happens."
Golden finger or not, he would survive.
That thought made him feel lighter.
Looking toward the distant immortal buildings rising above the clouds, Damon took a step forward.
Kaching—
[Compatible soul detected.]
[%###@¥°$^ has taken notice of you.]
[The ¥¢^#£__@ reveals itself.]
[Soul binding commencing… 1% → 2% → 100%]
[Ding!]
[Billion Times Multiplier System created.]
[Billion Times Multiplier successfully bonded.]