“Don’t die too early, Crow. Show me something interesting,” the Serpentess teased as she gracefully stepped through the spatial tear, giving him a slow, playful wave goodbye.
Feng Zhiming followed her, silent, unsure how to respond to her comment. His mind was occupied with darker thoughts. It was clear to him now: they sought to nurture a Gu Demon, a weapon they could leash and control. If they intended to treat him like a dog, he wouldn’t hesitate to bite them back.
The void that enveloped him as he stepped through was indescribable. It was not an absence of light, sound, or sensation, but rather the absence of anything that could be perceived. The void wasn’t something Feng Zhiming could quantify or describe; it simply was, a nothingness so profound it defied understanding.
One moment, he was in the void; the next, he found himself lying in a bed, beside a woman he did not know—or rather, one he did know, though not from his own memories.
“Rose,” he remembered instinctively. “A courtesan named Rose.”
The room was bathed in shades of red—red sheets, red curtains, even red wallpaper. The color was overwhelming, a rarity in his original world where red was almost exclusively the color of blood.
“Leaving so soon?” Rose asked, her voice soft and inviting, barely maintaining her modesty beneath the sheets. Her flowery scent wafted toward him, almost succeeding in luring him back to bed.
Bits and pieces of his new identity began to flood Feng Zhiming’s mind. He was in a brothel, affiliated with a demonic sect. It was an obvious location for any aspiring hunters, making it his top priority to figure out where he fit into this world. He needed to avoid offering himself up on a silver platter; that would be far too predictable, far too boring.
“I have some matters to attend to,” he replied curtly, standing and dressing quickly. He wasn’t opposed to indulging in pleasure now and then, many women in his home world knew that well, but now, he was in a race against time.
He made a quick assessment of his situation. “I seem to have everything I had before. Nothing major has changed. I look the same, and my cultivation seems normal.”
It became apparent that the only significant difference in his identity was his fabricated history and his affiliation with the sect. Otherwise, he remained the same person. Feng Zhiming couldn’t help but marvel at how easily the entity behind this could manipulate karma.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden influx of information.
[Identity: Feng Zhiming]
[Participant number: 7]
[Cultivation: Quasi-Ethereal Core]
[Cultivation Method: Unconventional]
[Elimination count: 0]
“This must be the observer hiding in my shadow,” he muttered to himself, piecing it together.
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[Participant 95 has been eliminated. Cause of elimination: Attempted breaking of rules.]
[Remaining participants: 99]
The notification snapped Feng Zhiming back to reality. As he moved through the brothel, he found himself standing outside a room from which suggestive noises could be heard.
“This should be where my junior is,” he recalled. He remembered coming to the brothel with his junior brother from the sect. His memory was hazy, but it would be wise to have this junior guide him back to the sect. It wasn’t safe to remain outside the sect’s protection while 98 other prodigies were actively trying to kill him. But that didn’t mean he intended to hide in the sect, once he had a solid grasp of this world, he would be much more confident in roaming it.
Of course, he could always flee and live as a recluse, but he doubted the sect would allow a deserter to live freely. Demonic sects were notorious for dealing harshly with those who possessed valuable information. It was unlikely they would let him leave simply because he asked.
After knocking three times and receiving no answer, Feng Zhiming swung the door open, revealing a scene that was both amusing and mildly irritating. A boy, looking no older than nineteen, with short, messy hair, turned to face him, startled. The girl beside him scrambled to cover herself.
“Senior brother, you really should knock,” the boy complained, his tone suggesting he felt wronged.
“I did, three times,” Feng Zhiming replied dryly, gesturing for the boy to come out.
The boy hurriedly hopped out of bed, dressing in a rush, knocking over a few items in the process. Feng Zhiming observed him with a critical eye. The boy’s name was Mu Han, and he was merely at the Qi Condensation stage—far too weak to be a participant in the Assembly of Absolution. There was no need to worry about him being a threat.
“What’s wrong, senior? You only stayed for two hours today when you usually stay for eight,” Mu Han commented, his tone innocent yet curious.
Feng Zhiming raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed by his own reputed endurance. He quickly coughed to change the topic.
“Ahem. I remembered something important that I need to attend to at the sect. Let’s return.”
Mu Han agreed without hesitation, and they both left the brothel. The street outside was lined with similar establishments, the entire area exuding a decadent, debauched atmosphere. After exiting the small city, they were greeted by a vast forest stretching into rocky mountains.
“Senior brother, next time let me have Rose, and you take Lily,” Mu Han asked, his face filled with a naive, wondrous expression.
Feng Zhiming rolled his eyes. “Forget about that. Tell me about recent events.”
Mu Han looked slightly confused at the sudden change in topic but answered to the best of his ability, assuming it was related to the work Feng Zhiming had mentioned.
“Well, recently, the Celestial Haven Sect announced that they plan to shift their focus from hunting demon beasts to hunting demonic cultivators. Something about restoring order or some other philosophical jibber-jabber.”
The mention of the Celestial Haven Sect jogged Feng Zhiming’s memory. It was one of the three major orthodoxies of this world, diametrically opposed to his own sect, the Heavenly Divine Demon Sect.
“Naturally, this declaration against the demonic includes our Heavenly Divine Demon Sect. It caused quite an uproar. The higher-ups are holding a meeting to decide how to respond.”
If things escalated to an all-out war, his chances of survival would plummet. But there was a part of Feng Zhiming that found the prospect thrilling rather than terrifying.
“Hmmm,” he mused, taking a deep breath as he began to formulate a plan.
He had access to two storage rings: one was his own, containing a few valuable items; the other was the ring of the strange creature he had killed earlier. However, it was currently locked, and he would need to break through to the Spiritual Awakening stage to claim ownership of it.
He looked inwardly at his Ethereal Core, which was halfway to the Condensed stage. After reaching the Condensed stage, he would have to advance to the Actualized stage before he could think of awakening his divine sense and entering the Spiritual Awakening realm.
“What do you think the higher-ups will decide, senior brother?” Mu Han asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
“I’m not sure,” Feng Zhiming replied thoughtfully. “But if I were in charge, I’d probably play it safe and send a s—"