Chapter 01 – Transmigration

That night when I died was confusing. I always thought death would give me respite from life’s shenanigans, but I was wrong, so very wrong. Life hadn’t been fair to me. Or, more like, god? I didn’t know. Not really a believer. Oh well, that aside, It all started with me stepping a foot outside my house that day and flicking my wrist to check the time.

I’m late, I thought, sighing. Shaking my head and sighing until I reached the convenience store I worked at, I got ready for the day as well as the nagging I was about to get for being late.

However, before I reached the counter, I noticed the eerie silence. I blinked before looking around the store. My eyes met the cashier, Stacy, and I frowned at her weird, stiff behavior. There was a man browsing items just beside her.

I grew suspicious when I saw her smiling at me. Something was wrong; she never smiled. As I approached the counter, my heart began to race. The man browsing items next to her seemed out of place, and his furtive glances were jarring.

“Hey, you're finally here,” Stacy said, her voice oddly cheerful.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I mumbled, my eyes never leaving the man. I frowned and approached him, “Excuse me, sir. What are you doing here? Is there something I can help you with—”

Before I could say anything else, the man’s hand shot out, revealing the glint of a gun. Time seemed to slow as my instincts kicked in, I took notice of his panicked face, but it was too late. He was already aiming.

Bang.

The gun flashed, and a deafening sound erupted. I froze, and pain shot in my chest. I stumbled back into a container, a searing agony spreading through my body. Everything blurred, and as I gasped for air, I saw Stacy’s fake smile falter, replaced by a look of shock and horror.

It was surreal, this feeling of being caught between life and death. I had always thought death would be peaceful, a release from life’s struggles. But as I lay there, bleeding out on the cold convenience store floor, all I could think about was how unfair it was. It was unfair that life had led me to this moment, unfair that I had to leave everything behind in such a senseless way.

As my consciousness faded, I found myself grappling with a question I never thought I'd have to ask—was this the end? I still had lots to do in life.

I got an answer to that question when I woke up in an entirely different world.

Not woke up, actually. A damn sword impaled my chest the moment I came in a new body with a new set of memories jumbling along with my old ones.

I coughed blood as the pain seared through me. The metallic taste on my battered lips and the blood gushing out of my mouth proved precisely not-so-pleasing, and my racing mind gave no respite.

It hurt. It hurt so much. I’d die like this, again. This couldn’t be a dream. No one used swords these days, so what was happening? Where was I? Hadn’t I just been killed by some dude?

The sword-wielding man pulled his weapon out with a grin, and I scowled before my face twisted as a scream tore out of my mouth. His insufferable, oh-so-very punchable face tempted me, and I shot him the nastiest glare I could muster. Nay, that wouldn’t do. Glancing slightly down, I slammed my leg into the motherfucker’s nuts and got surprised by my ability to move despite all this.

Crackle.

He was blasted a few kilometers farther and slammed into a mountain. Dust rose, and I froze midair. How the fuck did I…? I thought, what is happening? What are these memories?

My chest tightened, and a pit formed in my gut. I lost control of my flight; no longer airborne. Gravity latched onto me, and the wind whipped past my face. A scream tore out of my throat. No, no!

My heart thundered inside my chest, and the pain numbed. I heaved and gulped as much air as possible. What had happened? I searched for answers below. Total chaos. Someone had ambushed us. The Sect Leader had become toast, the four Elders hadn’t arrived, the sect lay in shambles, and now I potentially faced becoming a human pincushion.

My gut wrenched. Who was the Sect Leader? How do I know him? I could answer, but my throat tightened around the thoughts, and my heart froze. How could I answer? Memories—I had a new pair of memories, I knew from before, but how? Never in my life had I considered myself old, yet now I did. Elder. Ancient, even. How could I be so old?

The memories completely merged with mine. There was no headache, no nothing. Just a simple click and everything fell into place. I was no longer me, neither was I Ryujin Wu—the fucking Elder of some xianxia sect. One that needed just a big-dick protagonist, and would crumble. His mere presence would be enough—honestly, all this could be solved. How could they use some common fucking sense though? The people in those worlds had no more than two brain cells—

My stomach flipped as I saw the ground get nearer. No! I don’t want to die! Not again.

Naturally, my thoughts were irrelevant. I met my date with darkness dearest and belly-flopped on the ground. A dramatic amount of blood pooled beneath me, and I found myself amid a rather extended dirt nap, where breathing no longer remained my favorite hobby, and surprisingly, the Grim Reaper and I got cozier than I’d ever planned.

I clawed my way toward a rock and leaned against it.

Time passed. So much happened. Fights. Deaths. All the while, a crushing pain seared through my heart.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die—

Something wet touched my cheek. Then another. A raindrop, followed by the splash of rain falling, washing away what was left of my life along with fear of death and everything else. A man—a cultivator—walked over my body. Well, rest in peace, me.

I awaited death, or was I dead? I didn’t know. The next moment, though, was when my eyes shot wide open, and I jolted upright in a bed in a completely new, unfamiliar yet familiar environment. I gasped and licked my dry lips, my back slick with sweat, and a drop trickled down my forehead. I shuffled through my recent memories.

I didn’t know what had happened. My memories were a jumbled mess, and my thoughts were going haywire. But I knew that I was awake now. Not in my old room, though, nor in the convenience store.

I had apparently died on earth, and now, I was in some xianxia world as some elder.

This had to be a haunting dream—a nightmare. A hollowness echoed in my chest. The heaviness crushed me. I tore myself out of it and stood up.

But pain shot up my muscles when I did so. A ringing sound echoed in my head. A pulse ran through my forehead. I hissed. Sweat dripped into my eyes, and I wiped my face on my bed sheet. I got away. I can’t believe I got away, I thought as strength left me, and I fell, warm sheets of the bed engulfing me. My legs trembled. I felt weak, pathetically so.

Previously, I felt like I could bench-press a mountain effortlessly, and now? I considered whether I should get someone to walk for me? Wait. That’s wrong, I thought. I couldn’t bench-press a mountain effortlessly. What the fuck?

I moved, but my body rebelled against my grand ambitions, and a pulse of agony spread into my chest. What is happening?

I shuffled through memories—a whole lifetime’s worth from what I could gather—and breathed heavily. Chill. Just take a deep breath. Yup, this whole chest-piercing escapade had actually happened yesterday in this world. I’d flickered in and out of consciousness, dreaming of that repeatedly, and only now had I truly regained consciousness. Furthermore, I’d transmigrated.

Frankly, I didn’t have a blast. The last memory was of me going to the convenience store I worked at, and getting shot. Next thing I knew, I’d found myself impaled. That cursed sword. Now, here I am, waking up in this ancient-looking room that resembled something straight out of an ancient Chinese drama series, with bandages covering my injury and aching all over.

“Note to self,” I muttered, “avoid pointy objects, especially wielded by grumpy old geezers.”

Emotions? They no longer reigned over me like they once did; the memories brought about this weird sense of disconnection. The pain lingered, alongside everything else, but I no longer felt as much as I had in my... past life. As if I were more resilient than ever, numb even. I hauled myself up slowly, making sure I didn’t summon that searing pain back into action. The bandage stuck on my chest was a constant reminder that my wild dreams were indeed true and I’d truly transmigrated. Fun times.

Rising on my feet, I observed my surroundings. A dimly lit room adorned with all sorts of artsy stuff. Fancy place, must be someone’s swanky pad. The place screamed elegance, filled with furniture that surely cost a fortune—more than a peasant family could make in a year, that’s for sure. The walls had beautiful carvings and silver decorations, and nestled in the corner stood a small bookshelf with scrolls filing it. Peace and serenity seemed to emanate from every corner, and I took a deep breath of the incense-heavy air, feeling it reinvigorate me. Some magic bullshit, is it? I could tell, I had memories of this dude.

Frankly, although I’d read countless fantasy novels, daydreaming about getting whisked away and plopping into some other world myself, I’d never believed it could really happen. A Xianxia Cultivation World, no less.

The mirror revealed a handsome man, distinctly different from myself, even though some resemblance with my past self remained. A tall, chiseled figure stared back at me through the mirror, with striking blue eyes that held a sharp feel. Jet-black hair cascaded down my shoulders. What could the purpose of having such long ass hair be? Wouldn’t dealing with it be a pain in the butt? Especially in this world? Though, I must admit, It framed my angular face with a touch of refinement, accentuating my strong jawline and giving me an air of both elegance and power.

Okay, definitely different from my “old” self.

Done with admiring myself, I went outside the door and took in the view of the building. A massive house with a sloping black-tiled roof and walls of fancy carved stone. A weird garden with these unusual plants—spirit herbs if I recall correctly from his memories—and a pond with colorful fish in it lay just beyond the house. A peaceful scene, all considered. Coming out had been tough, though, given that I ached all over. However, putting some strength in my body had not harmed me, so I came out.

An acrid smell filled my nostrils, putrid and rancid, like burning charred flesh around somewhere. I raised an eyebrow. I followed slowly. Though my body ached, it remained manageable.

I found corpses gathered together; servants of the sect had been gathering corpses in one place, apparently. It all reminded me of what had happened, how much blood had been shed. It strangely didn’t affect me much.

“Uh, Elder Wu! You’re injured, this servant implores you to rest!” A servant came running and bowed low. I spared him a single glance and waved him away, focusing on my newly acquired memories. I schooled my expression into the stoic facade Wu Ryujin had been known for. I owned those memories as well, after all.

“No need, continue,” I ordered, and the servant bowed and left.

They put the corpses together, and a man brought some sort of artifact. A cube. He fiddled with it and burned them to a crisp. The ashes were scattered across the land. They still had Gu, so it was understandable. Well, aside from “returning to the earth” and whatnot.

Gu, huh?

I instinctively pulled on my Gu—

A sharp pain exploded in my heart and rose up inside my body. I immediately stumbled and fell. The servants all gathered around me, hands outstretched. However, I took a moment, sighed, and stood up without their help. Memories told me that my Eclipse Heart had been shattered, and my Gu scattered. I no longer identified as a Demonic Cultivator but a human with a physique far better than normal.

Screw it, I'm not gonna dwell on this. This whole two minds in one-body concept already proved too much, and now this. So I just let go of my worries about Gu and turned back to my house instead.

The whole area underwent a transformation—the corpses vanished, leaving the area clean. Furthermore, this body had to be monstrous; the wound had healed in but a day. That “Gu” stuff remained a pain, though—literally. As a Demonic Cultivator, I used Gu—Qi’s edgy bro—instead of Qi. I should try Qi, perhaps? Wouldn’t it destroy my “primordial soul” or whatever bullshit there is because I’d used Gu before? Isn’t it against the heavens or some crap?

I decided that it wasn’t worth the risk.

Today, someone knocked at the door of my house. I opened the door and before me stood an ancient-looking woman. White hair, wrinkly face, and hunched. She bowed all proper and polite. Weird. Come on, she held the elderly status here, not me, yet she bowed to me. What a twisted fuck fest of a world man.

“Elder Wu, this servant pays respects,” she said, head still low. “It is time to check your condition.”

I pursed my lips. So, she was the one who treated me, huh?

“I see, come on in,” I replied casually, too tired to act the stoic-cold-arrogant Elder part.

If she felt taken aback at my casual tone and lack of arrogance Cultivators usually held—or I had held—she hid it well. I couldn’t even detect a ripple in her expression. I mean, I didn't exactly fit the template of your typical immortal master, so why should I act like that?

I let her check on me, and she quickly did so. Finger on my wrist to feel my pulse throb against her finger and lots of other jargon. It turns out I had truly become a cripple.

My lips thinned into a line, and I sighed. Honestly, I couldn’t give a fuck. This whole mess had no relation to me whatsoever and only to Ryujin. Sure, I technically was Wu Ryujin now. I occupied his body and held his memories and all, but I technically also wasn’t. I held full control, and having someone’s memories meant nothing. Yeah, go make sense of me. The elderly woman fidgeted and glanced at me once or twice.

“What is it?” I asked casually.

“Elder Wu, if you are thinking of leaving, I implore you do not.”

A few minutes of talking later, I found out she had come here with some information—sweet old granny. Nothing I’d expect from a “Demonic Cultivator” honestly, but whatever, as they say, you do you.

Apparently, I would be killed the moment I left the Sect, as was the custom of this Demonic Sect… Elder or not. A quick focus on Ryujin’s memory provided me with all the details I needed. This was a Demonic Sect, and like any other, it had its own rules and customs that everyone followed religiously. Killing on leaving the Sect happened to be one of them.

“Also, I suggest you start gathering Disciples, Elder Wu, I do not wish to see one whom I’ve raised die a dog’s death.”

That… struck right through me. Another look into memories, and yes, it became clear that she indeed raised Ryujin. Guy lost his parents, typical. Thinking of Disciples reminded me of an important thing: one of us five Elders is to be the Sect Leader in due time, however, selecting is always a problem, so there’s bound to be some sort of competition, controlled war, or something similar.

“Fuck me.”

If I ran, I’d be dead, If I participated in whatever the fuck they decide, I’d be dead, given that I am no longer a Cultivator, If I don’t participate, I’m pretty sure the one winning would send me out on some “glorious mission,” and I’d die given its difficulty. Everywhere, death hung over me, and only one path stretched before me—only one path that I could follow.

Raising Disciples, overthrowing the sect, and taking over myself.