Chapter 1: Buried in Debt

Chapter 1: Buried in Debt

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The wooden door groaned under a violent assault, shattering the silence of the early morning.

"Open up!"

"Open this damn door!"

The rough, angry shouting frightened even the barking dog into silence.

Several cultivators who were already up turned to look. When they saw the shabby house, understanding dawned on their faces.

"Tch. They are back for Qin Big-Mouth. Just how deep in the hole is he?"

"Who knows? He is lazy, greedy, and addicted to gambling. I heard he owes the Jishan Store over a hundred Spirit Stones alone!"

"Tch. One of these days, someone will beat him to death out in the wilds."

They gossiped and whispered as they watched the burly man keep pounding on Qin Big-Mouth's door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Qin Lu listened to the relentless pounding without daring to make a sound. He could only stare up at the roof beams, too miserable even to cry.

'Why come for me? I wasn't the one who borrowed the money.'

Qin Lu was not from this world. Two days ago, he had somehow transmigrated into the body of a middle-aged man who had died miserably in his own home.

Through the fragmented memories of the original owner, he understood where he was.

A world of Cultivation. A realm of boundless imagination and terrifying power.

Some great cultivators could soar through the skies, delve beneath the earth, move mountains, and fill seas; others transcended mortality and lived as long as the heavens. It was a world of wonders.

But those legends had nothing to do with him.

Here, he was mud.

This body was thirty-five years old, yet his cultivation had stalled at the pitiful second layer of Qi Refining.

He was neither a member of a cultivation clan nor a disciple of a prestigious sect, just a down-on-his-luck Rogue Cultivator who had happened to find a cultivation manual.

No faction, no background, no one to protect him. He was getting on in years, and his cultivation was low.

Old, weak, and destitute. In the grand hierarchy of the cultivation world, he was an ant waiting to be crushed.

Qin Lu could have endured that much. After all, he could hardly expect to transmigrate into someone powerful enough to lord it over everyone. He had only hoped to lie low in this dangerous world and die peacefully of old age.

But the original owner—that bastard who shared his name—had left him a parting gift.

A truly catastrophic mess.

The original host wasn't just a hopeless gambling addict—sneaky, slippery, and idle—he was a walking collection of vices. Buried under a mountain of debt, he had cultivated a legion of enemies.

For the two days since Qin Lu had taken over this body, the door had rattled constantly. Creditors pounded on the wood, demanding repayment. Terrified, Qin Lu remained trapped inside, living in the shadow of imminent violence.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Open up!"

"Pay up now, or I'll slaughter your whole damn family!"

The pounding continued, accompanied by a stream of filthy curses directed at the previous owner's entire family.

Qin Lu could only pretend not to hear. He was far weaker than his creditor, and he had no grounds to argue.

The past forty-eight hours had followed the same script. Stay silent. Hold his breath. Create the illusion of an empty house. Usually, the vultures left after a while.

But today's visitor lacked patience.

Boom!

A tremendous crash came from the doorway. A kick punched a large hole through the fragile door, spraying splinters everywhere and easily breaking the crude array that concealed his presence.

Qin Lu jerked upright, heart hammering. He whipped his head around.

A burly man about six feet three inches tall stepped inside, his broad face set in anger and the veins standing out on his arms. He strode quickly toward Qin Lu.

Fang Hu. One of the many creditors.

"H-hey, w-wait... wait!" Qin Lu's face drained of color. He scrambled to his feet, hands waving in frantic surrender.

"You son of a bitch, Qin Big-Mouth! I've been knocking for an age. Are you deaf? You owe me money and dare to play dead?"

Fang Hu grabbed Qin Lu's collar with one hand and hoisted him above his own head, shouting at him with spittle flying.

Suspended by an iron grip, terror seized Qin Lu. He had never faced such raw aggression.

"Brother Hu, spare me... I was asleep! I didn't hear the knocking..."

"Cut the crap!" Fang Hu bellowed. "Now! Right now! Give me my Spirit Stones!"

Bloodshot eyes glared with murderous intent. Qin Lu knew the rules of survival: a wise man doesn't fight when the odds are fatal.

"Yes, yes! I'll pay! Just... put me down first."

Fang Hu snorted and released his grip, letting Qin Lu return to the floor.

"I lent you twenty Spirit Stones. It's been a month. The principal plus interest comes to thirty-five."

"What? Those interest rates are outrageous!" Qin Lu stared at Fang Hu in shock.

"Outrageous? It is all there in black and white! Are you trying to deny the debt?"

Fang Hu took a sheet of paper from inside his robe.

Qin Lu looked closely. It said exactly what Fang Hu had claimed, with his name and thumbprint clearly marked in the bottom right corner.

'Damn it.'

Qin Lu cursed silently. What possessed the previous owner to borrow at such usurious rates? The man must have had a death wish.

He stole a glance at the hulking figure of Fang Hu. The debt collector’s face was a mask of impatient violence. There was no bluffing his way out of this. Not today.

He quickly nodded in agreement.

"Yes, yes, right away..."

If he didn't pay up now, this thug would tear him limb from limb. This wasn't a civilized world of laws, order, and harmony. Here, life was cheap. A disagreement over a few coins could end in a bloodbath. Murder and arson were as common as breathing.

After two days of digesting the fragmented memories of his predecessor, one truth had burned itself into Qin Lu's mind: fear.

To stay alive, he would have to keep his head down.

He slowly went back to the bed, lifted the mat, and carefully took a grey cloth pouch from a hiding place between the bed boards. Inside were several dozen irregular silver stones.

"Ah... these fifty Spirit Stones are the last of my assets..."

He had remembered this emergency stash while piecing together the previous owner's memories last night. He had hoped to use it to start a small business and earn a little money.

Now, it seemed he would not be able to keep it.

He reached into the pouch, intending to count out thirty-five stones for the debt collector. His fingers brushed the cold surface of the currency.

Then, he froze.

The Spirit Stones in the pouch were disappearing, a few at a time.

"Huh? What is going on?"

Qin Lu stared, mind blank. The Spirit Stones were vanishing into thin air without a trace. One. Two. Five.

Within a few breaths, thirty Spirit Stones had vanished.

"What is this... Ah!"

Before he could understand what was happening, a piercing pain struck between his eyebrows. He cried out and clutched his head as his ears rang and his vision blurred.

"Oi! What the hell are you screaming about?! Did you find the money or not?!"

Fang Hu shouted angrily from behind him. Qin Lu had no strength left to answer; he could only hold his head and cry out in pain.

Fortunately, the pain faded as quickly as it had come. Within ten seconds, it was easing.

"Hmm?"

Before he could puzzle over it, the light in front of his eyes distorted, and a translucent screen appeared.

He focused his gaze on the floating text:

[Name: Qin Lu]

[Lifespan: 35/102 Years]

[Cultivation: Qi Refining Layer 2: 60/100]

[Technique: Mystic Sun Mantra (Novice): 82/100]

[Skills: None]

[Talents: None]

Qin Lu stared at the panel, jaw slack.

'What in the world...?'

He rubbed his eyes, but the translucent screen remained in front of him.

'A game interface?'

'A Golden Finger?'

'Did touching the Spirit Stones activate it?'

"Hey! Did you find the money or not?!"

A heavy hand slammed onto Qin Lu's shoulder from behind.

The impact shattered his daze. The floating panel dissolved into thin air.

Qin Lu stood and turned to look at Fang Hu. There was nothing unusual in the man's eyes.

'It seems only I can see this panel...'

"What are you staring at? Pay up!"

Fang Hu gave his shoulder another shove.

Qin Lu didn't argue. He hurriedly extended the grey cloth bag, casting a wary glance at the thug's face. His heart hammered against his ribs.

The bag felt light. Too light.

Thirty Spirit Stones had disappeared, leaving only twenty in the pouch. That was not enough to repay the debt, and Qin Lu did not know whether Fang Hu would lose his temper.

Fang Hu snatched the bag. He tossed it once, catching it with a frown. The weight was wrong. His expression darkened instantly.

"You playing games with me?" His voice dropped to a dangerous growl. "This is nowhere near enough."

Qin Lu lowered his head, his face twisting into a mask of helplessness.

"That's everything I have," he said, his voice low and cautious. "Can you give me a little more time for the rest?"

Fang Hu scrutinized him, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes.

'This kid... he was different.'

In the past, when pressed for money, Qin Lu would have acted the part of a shameless rogue. He would have used his slick, oily tongue to spin excuses and refused to hand over a single coin, even after a beating.

'But today? He paid up readily. His attitude was honest.'

'I heard someone came to teach him a lesson a few days ago. Did a beating actually change his nature?'

Little did Fang Hu know, the man standing before him was no longer the gambling addict Qin Lu used to be.

After a tense silence, Fang Hu shoved the grey bag into his robe.

"You still owe me fifteen Spirit Stones," he barked. "I'll be back in ten days to collect. By then, the interest makes it twenty. If you don't have it, you're dead!"

Fang Hu turned and marched out without looking back.

Qin Lu watched him leave, then glanced at the broken wooden door. With a helpless expression, he raised his face to the sky and sighed.

"Life is hard..."