Midnight draped itself over Jade Market City, a quiet settlement nestled along the slopes of Mount Myriad of Beasts. The air was bone-chilling; only the whisper of wind drifted between sleeping houses — a sign that the day's bustle had long faded into silence.
At the city's edge, in a crumbling house, a pale-faced young man in tattered robes crouched on the dirt floor. His trembling hands moved with feverish precision, drawing strange runes with ink darkened by his own blood.
The metallic stench was suffocating. In each corner of the room, a blindfolded chicken struggled weakly, their soft clucks echoing like a cursed choir. The place felt less like a home and more like the altar of a forbidden cult.
After countless failed attempts, the young man finally finished the blood-drawn circle — a yin-yang diagram enclosed by a triangular array of runes. He sat in the center with one chicken, while the remaining three lay bound at each corner of the triangle.
He exhaled slowly. Everything was ready.
Then, faint lights began to shimmer into existence — wisps of energy swirling like ghostly fireflies above the ritual. The young man's eyes widened. He hurriedly began to chant.
The lights gathered into a single, glowing cluster, filling the room with an eerie, sacred glow. The runes on the ground flared to life, bathing the walls in pale crimson.
He closed his eyes, both calm and tense, awaiting the moment of success.
Gradually, the glowing lines slithered outward, wrapping around the chickens at each corner. The creatures convulsed violently as their blood was drawn by an unseen force. One by one, they fell still.
Then, the light turned inward — toward the young man and the last chicken at the center.
A blinding flash filled the room. For a heartbeat, he felt it — a faint connection forming between his soul and the creature before him.
A thin smile touched his lips.
"It seems... I've done it."
But before the ritual could complete, something snapped. An unseen force yanked at his soul. His body seized. Veins bulged in his neck as blood streamed from his nose, ears, and eyes, splattering across the glowing runes.
The air thickened with dread. The room twisted, colors bleeding into a ghostly vision of a graveyard filled with restless spirits. The young man's mouth opened in a silent scream — no sound escaped.
All his effort... for nothing.
Moments later, the light faded. His body slumped to the ground, lifeless.
Silence returned — heavy, complete.
...
Hours passed. The first rays of dawn crept through the cracks of the window.
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
The sudden crow of a rooster shattered the stillness. A young man bolted upright, clutching his head as pain exploded behind his eyes.
"Ugh... my head! It feels like I got hit by a truck!" he groaned, rubbing his temples.
He let out a weak laugh. "That's it — no more all-nighters playing games!"
A noble vow. One he would absolutely break.
As his vision cleared, he froze.
"What the... hell is this?!"
The room stank of blood. Four dead chickens lay scattered across the floor, surrounded by faintly glowing red runes that pulsed like living veins.
The young man — Lin Chen — went pale.
Was this some kind of murder scene? Or a prank from hell?
Before he could move, a stabbing pain lanced through his skull. His mind split open as foreign memories poured in — fragments of another life.
He saw mountains floating among clouds, beasts with horns and fangs, cultivators flying across the sky. A world far beyond Earth.
The Sea Ring Continent of Chaos.
Goosebumps crawled down his arms.
"No way... Did I actually transmigrate?"
Memories settled into place — belonging to another Lin Chen, a young cultivator not yet twenty. A second-stage Qi Refinement disciple with mixed spiritual roots. His father, a sixth-stage hunter, had supported him — until a fatal accident a year ago.
Since then, despair had swallowed his life. His final hope was the Ascension Conference, a once-in-three-years event where sects recruited new disciples. At eighteen, it would be his last chance.
Driven by fear of failure, he had turned to a forbidden ritual — one said to forge a contract with a spirit beast and grant instant strength. But the ritual backfired, killing him... and opening the door for another Lin Chen — the one from Earth — to take his place.
"So... I'm in a dead man's body?" he whispered, horrified.
Before he could think further, a loud voice shouted from outside.
"Lin Chen! Lin Chen!"
His heart leapt. He hurried outside.
A burly man stood by the gate — Brother Hu, the loan shark who had financed the ritual materials.
Hu's eyes widened for a moment, surprised that Lin Chen was alive, but he quickly covered it with a scowl.
"Hey, kid! You know why I'm here?"
Lin Chen swallowed hard. "Y-yeah, Brother Hu. You came because—"
"Good! Then you know!" Hu barked. "Your debt's due at the end of the month! If you don't pay, interest goes up fifty percent per day! Got it?!"
Before Lin Chen could respond, Hu jabbed him lightly in the stomach.
"Did you hear me?!"
"Y-yes, Brother Hu! I got it! I'll pay, I promise!"
Hu grunted and left, muttering, "Strange... everyone who performs that ritual dies."
Lin Chen stood frozen, despair washing over him. How was he supposed to earn money here?
Back inside, the stench made him gag. He began scrubbing the floor like his life depended on it — because it probably did. If anyone saw those markings, they'd think he was a demonic cultivator.
An hour later, he collapsed onto the floor, exhausted.
"Finally... done."
He carried the chicken corpses out back, muttering as he dug a shallow pit.
"Ugh... will this cause a disease? A spiritual disease maybe?"
The hoe struck the ground with a satisfying clang.
"At least digging works the same here as it does on Earth," he sighed. "No need for spells just to dig a hole."
Then suddenly—
Ding!
Hoe Experience +1!
Lin Chen froze. A translucent blue window flickered into existence before his eyes, glowing softly in the morning light.
He stared at it, dumbfounded.
"Wait... is this... a system?"
The faint blue light pulsed again, as if answering him.