It's been a few years since I transmigrated into this strange new world.
Honestly, it wasn't what I expected—or even hoped for. I didn't wake up as the heir to some righteous sect or a hidden genius with a divine bloodline. Nope. I was reborn into the demonic path, right into the Crimson Lotus Sect, a place feared across continents for its cruelty and power.
But I guess, to really understand how I ended up here, I should start from the beginning.
I remember waking up and staring at the roof of a house that looked both familiar and alien. My thoughts drifted back to the day I died... and, well, it wasn't noble or even tragic. Just dumb.
I was walking in the woods during winter. Nothing crazy. Then—bam—a tree limb snapped off and crushed me. Instant death. No suffering, no heroic sacrifice. Just a surprise squish.
And when I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a new body on a similar-looking bed, staring at the same kind of wooden ceiling. My brain was still processing the shock when something even weirder happened.
A translucent blue screen appeared in front of me—just like in anime, manga, or manhwa. A system screen. No joke.
It told me that some younger gods were messing around in the mortal world. Through a series of cosmic accidents, they accidentally got me killed. Whoops.
Since they couldn't revive me without breaking divine laws, they gave me a second chance—in another world, complete with cheats. I was allowed to choose three skills of any kind.
Obviously, I chose wisely.
My First Choice: Forbidden Root Body
A terrifying cultivation base rejected by righteous sects—feared for a reason. It allowed me to merge with three deadly root paths:
• Ghost Root (Lv. 1):
Control over ghost qi. Allows easier use of spirit techniques, doubles soul cultivation speed, and increases qi reserves and regeneration by consuming spirits.
• Blood Root (Lv. 1):
Control over blood qi. Enhances blood technique mastery, doubles blood cultivation speed, and boosts HP and regeneration through absorbing blood.
• Bone Root (Lv. 1):
Control over bone qi. Grants proficiency in bone-based arts, doubles body cultivation speed, and enhances physical attack and defense using bones.
Spooky, right?
Second Choice: S-Rank Drop Increase (Max Level)
A divine cheat straight from gaming heaven. Every enemy I kill has a high chance of dropping rare or even broken-level loot—treasures or techniques far above my current cultivation level. Basically, it's jackpot mode, always on.
Third Choice: Demonic Root Body (Lv. 1)
The weirdest one of all. This root lets me control demonic or corrupted qi. It boosts resistance against dark arts and doubles the power of any demonic cultivation technique I use.
My Starting Stats:
Name: Noir
Level: 1 (0 / 673 XP)
Class: Cultivator
Title: None
Spirit Stones (SS): 0
HP: 100 / 100
Stamina (ST): 45 / 45
Spiritual Power (SP): 20 / 20
Defense: 6
Attack: 8
Attributes:
• Vitality (VIT): 6
• Mind: 7
• Endurance: 5
• Strength: 5
• Dexterity: 6
• Intelligence: 7
• Faith: 7
• Luck: 5
Available Attribute Points: 0
Skills:
Forbidden Root Body
Ghost Root (Lv. 1)
Blood Root (Lv. 1)
Bone Root (Lv. 1)
S-Rank Drop Increase (Max Level)
Demonic Root Body (Lv. 1)
Equipment:
Head: None
Chest: Basic Shirt
Pants: Basic Pants
Feet: Basic Shoes
Fingers (1–8): None
Necklace: None
Weapon: None
Inventory:
Empty.
Now that I think about it, yeah… maybe I should have picked something less villain-coded.
But hey, it's not like I planned to be a bad guy. I just didn't want to be crushed by falling trees again.
I snapped out of my thoughts as a loud knock echoed from the door.
Still half-asleep, I stood up and reached for my fox mask—a requirement every time I stepped outside or met someone. No one had ever told me why. Just that I had to wear it.
It wasn't a normal mask either. It was crafted from the old skull of a demonic fox, painted entirely black with crimson rings around the eyes and tips of the ears. It fit snugly across my face, its eerie expression mirroring my own odd presence.
As I secured it, I glanced at myself in an old mirror I'd managed to buy. My appearance was plain… mostly. I wore a simple brown outfit, a bit worn at the edges. My long black hair fell messily down my back, wild and unkempt.
But the eyes—those always stood out.
Black sclera. Crimson irises. Like two bottomless voids rimmed with blood-red rings. Combined with the mask, I didn't look like a villager.
I looked like a demon.
After a quick once-over, I walked to the door and opened it. Standing there was the village leader.
"Hey, old man," I said with a yawn. "What do you need?"
The village leader was an elderly man who had taken me in when I first arrived. He helped me get my current job—oddly perfect for someone with my... particular cultivation.
"I was wondering if you'd finished the meat yet," he asked.
Ah, yes. My job.
I was the village butcher. It suited me well. My control over bone and blood qi made the work almost effortless—and oddly satisfying.
"Yeah, it's all in the shop."
I led him to the workshop connected to my home. Opening the side door, I revealed a surprisingly clean space. Sanitation was easy when you could control every bone fragment down to the marrow.
Inside, neatly arranged on polished stone slabs, were the cuts of meat from the cow he'd brought me earlier in the week.
"Good work," he said, nodding. "It's been a slow week. Don't think we'll be seeing many more animals for a while."
Without much effort, I lifted the wrapped meat and handed it over. He placed a few silver coins on the small table by the door and left.
I sighed. This was my routine. Quiet. Repetitive. But I didn't mind.
In fact, I kind of liked it.
With more downtime, I could focus on what mattered most: training, checking my traps, tending to my small garden, and refining my qi roots. I'd chosen to live as self-reliantly as possible—my own way, even in the demonic sect's shadow.
I stepped out into the village, heading off to run a few errands.
Our little settlement was perched right near the edge of demonic sect territory—close enough to be watched, far enough to be ignored. At first, I couldn't understand why anyone would build a village here. It seemed risky.
But then I saw it. The gate.
Right in the center of the village stood a looming black stone gate—an entrance to a dungeon.
That gate was the lifeline of the village.
It allowed cultivators to test their strength, gain rare drops, and sharpen their skills. In return, the dungeon absorbed qi from combat arts and, occasionally... the bodies of the fallen. A mutual exchange, grim as it sounded.
I wasn't allowed in. Village rule. Only official sect members or authorized villagers could enter.
I'd asked. Multiple times.
And every time, I got the same response:
"Not yet."
Which meant… soon, maybe
After a few hours of checking my traps in the forest, I returned to my workshop carrying a handful of rabbits—and, to my luck, a deer. Good haul.
I tossed the animals onto the slab in the center of my shop and got to work.
A clean cut to the neck of each—swift and practiced.
Blood began to pour out in thick streams… but with a snap of my fingers, the crimson liquid defied gravity. It spiraled upward, swirling around my hand before gathering into a floating sphere of blood—pulsing and warm.
Next was the bone. Another snap. A pale white fluid seeped from the wounds and rose through the air like vapor. This wasn't blood—it was the liquefied essence of bone, extracted through my Bone Root. It formed a second orb, floating beside the blood.
Then came the spirit.
This one was always strange.
Unlike blood and bone, the spirit wasn't a uniform color. It shimmered and twisted—a swirl of purple and yellow, like mist caught in sunlight. It drifted free from the rabbit's and deer's eyes and mouths, forming a third orb that hovered quietly, pulsing with soft light.
Three balls. Three elements.
Now came the time-consuming part: refinement.
Sure, I could absorb them as they were. But that would be wasteful—like tossing a leaf into a bonfire. You get heat, sure, but not power.
So I refined them.
Each orb passed through an invisible spiritual sifter—at least, that's how I imagined it. Every round of refinement made the energy purer, the light sharper. The blood grew darker, denser. The bone orb hardened into a pearlescent glow. The spirit mist turned more vibrant, more alive.
Unrefined, it was weak fuel.
Refined two or three times? It was like tossing coal into the flame of my cultivation.
And always—there was residue. Leftovers. Impurities. But even those had their uses. Fertilizer. Bait. Experimental materials.
When I was finally done, I let out a breath and raised my hand.
The three orbs—smaller now, denser, brighter—began to unravel into glowing wisps. They drifted into my chest, sinking into my core like threads of silk, vanishing beneath my skin.
The warmth, the pressure, the surge of energy…
I'd done this thousands of times over the past few years.
It was slow. It was quiet.
But it was power. My own.
In one corner of my workshop, I kept three large barrels, each carefully labeled and sealed—Bone, Blood, and Spirit.
They held the leftover essence from my refining sessions. Not every drop was usable in cultivation, but that didn't mean it was worthless.
Next came my garden.
It wasn't much, just a patch behind the workshop. But it was mine. I grew simple crops—nothing fancy—but they looked… different.
There was bamboo, bone white with deep red leaves.
My lettuce grew in clusters of blood-red leaves with pale white stalks.
And my strawberries? Yellow and purple fruit with ghostly white foliage.
I figured the strange colors came from using the leftover essence to enrich the soil. Probably not healthy. Definitely not normal.
But it worked.
I also had three modified arrow quivers strapped near the garden entrance. Each was attuned to one type of essence—bone, blood, and spirit. With a flick of my fingers, I could draw energy directly from the stored essence and fire it like arrows if I needed to fight.
Efficient. Unorthodox. Dangerous.
Just like me.
My control over qi was far sharper than most cultivators I'd met or observed. Maybe because I wasn't from this world. Maybe because I wasn't bound by their traditions.
Or maybe I was just lucky.
Next up was harvesting the hides and meat. With my bone qi guiding the blade, it took only minutes to skin and butcher the animals. I set aside a few choice cuts for dinner, then sliced the rest into thin strips.
I mixed in some crushed herbs from the garden and hung the meat over the smoke rack to dry—my weekly batch of jerky.
Once that was done, I prepped my dinner: rabbit leg, cooked until crisp, served with a side of my crimson lettuce. It looked like a meal straight out of a villain's banquet… but it was mine.
I removed my mask, sat down, and ate slowly. Peacefully.
After I finished, I cleaned up, locked the barrels, stoked the smoker one last time, and crawled into bed.
Same roof. Same bed. Same strange world.
Tomorrow would be more of the same.
And that… was just fine by me.