Frank's heart nearly leapt out of his chest as he stared at the shimmering blue interface floating before him.

  "My cheat is finally here!" he shouted, laughter bubbling up in his throat as he stepped out of the cemetery gate, his boots crunching softly against the gravel path.

  The graveyard was eerily silent behind him, filled with countless gravestones stretching as far as the eye could see—each a solemn testament to the lives lost in the recent war. Some stones bore names; others were unmarked, weathered by wind and sorrow. Frank stood at the edge of the Field of Heroes, a sacred section within the vast Elemental Sect, where the brave and the fallen were laid to rest.

  "Status," he said, more out of habit than hope.

  A familiar chime rang in his ears, followed by the clean click of a system panel unfolding.

  Frank examined the status screen, a strange comfort blooming in his chest. The numbers were low, pathetic even—but they meant progress, potential. They meant power.

  “Everything seems normal so far,” he murmured.

  As he concentrated, knowledge of the cultivation technique embedded in the previous owner’s memory began to unfurl in his mind. The Basic Elemental Qi Absorption Technique—simple, foundational, yet respectable. A stepping stone.

  “Help,” Frank said aloud.

  “Hmm... alright. Craft.”

  The screen shifted again. A list of recipes popped up. His eyes widened at the bizarre combinations.

  Frank stared blankly at the screen, then raised a brow.

  "System, what's up with these recipes?"

  No response. Only silence.

  “System help,” he tried again, just in case.

  “Nope. Still no change.” He rubbed his temple. “It really is the same as that dumb idle crafting game I was playing before I died. Random ingredients, random items, click to win. Can’t believe I got isekai’d into this.”

  He patted down his new robes. They were dirty and frayed, but still intact. Inside his pocket he found only three silver coins and a bronze nameplate bearing his new identity as an outer disciple of the Elemental Sect.

  “No food, no weapons, no items, and a cheat system that makes zero sense unless I can somehow find dragon scales or slime cores at the local market,” he muttered.

  He hopped the cemetery fence with effort—it was taller than he expected—and made his way along the winding path toward the sect proper.

  The Elemental Sect was carved into the bones of a vast mountain range, each level of the peak home to a different class of disciple. At the top, past the clouds and into the sky itself, were the ancestral elders, ancient figures who had transcended life and death. Beneath them were the Sect Master and Grand Elders, who ruled the sect with wisdom and might. Then came the core disciples, elite cultivators with unmatched talent. Below them, the inner disciples. And at the base of the mountain, sprawling like a village of stone and discipline, lay the homes of the outer disciples—overlooked, underappreciated, and often forgotten.

  War had ravaged even this sacred place. Walls had cracked. Towers were half-collapsed. Blood still stained the edges of the stone roads in places. The Light-Dark War had nearly destroyed the world, but in the end, the Light Sect had won.

  Frank walked past a collapsed archway, the emblem of the Elemental Sect still glowing faintly in the broken stone. This place had seen glory—and death.

  The memories of the body’s original owner surfaced again. He had been an outer disciple for just one year, too weak to fight, but forced to the battlefield anyway.

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  “Guess I’ve got a second chance. Might as well use it wisely,” Frank said, steeling himself.

  He reached the administrative hall and approached the reception desk.

  “How may I assist you?” asked the clerk. Her voice was calm, but tired.

  Frank handed her his nameplate. “I need my residence assignment and my monthly allowance.”

  After a quick scan, she handed him a slip with directions and some silver coins.

  With ten silver coins in hand, his monthly allowance, Frank made his way toward the housing district. Half an hour later, he stood before House 380. A plain wooden door greeted him, locked with a formation seal linked to his nameplate.

  He tapped he nameplate to the door.

  Click.

  The door creaked open.

  The house was modest: one bedroom, one kitchen, and one training chamber. In the corner sat a bag of nutrition pills—standard-issue from the sect. Each pill replaced a full meal.

  Frank collapsed onto the bed and downed a pill. Warmth spread through his chest. For the first time in hours, he let himself breathe freely.

  When he awoke, dawn light crept through the wooden shutters.

  “Craft,” he said, still lying in bed.

  Frank blinked. “Still so random. But this time... I can actually make a few of these.”

  He dressed quickly and began cultivating, sitting cross-legged and activating the Basic Elemental Qi Absorption Technique.

  He visualized the energy in the air. Fire, water, wind, earth, lightning, metal—each element drifted in invisible threads, resisting his pull like stubborn rivers. But he persisted, drawing them in, compressing them into a colorful sphere in his dantian.

  With each breath, the energy crashed against his inner walls, expanding them. He repeated the process again and again, until the space inside his dantian was saturated.

  He was close to a breakthrough—but the rules of the the basic elemental Qi absorption technique were strict. Both body and dantian could advance together.

  In the Elemental Sect’s dual cultivation system, progress required growth in both body and dantian simultaneously. Other sects might allow uneven progression, but not this one.

  “I need a body cultivation technique,” Frank muttered. “And I think I know where to get one.”

  Frank walked through the winding pathways of the outer sect, the warm morning sun now casting golden rays across the towering walls and tiled roofs. Disciples in simple robes moved about, some training, others meditating, but many like him seemed to be recovering from the toll of the recent war. The atmosphere was somber but determined—like a scarred warrior who still had battles left to fight.

  He followed the signs carved into stone pillars until he stood before an ancient structure nestled against the side of a cliff. Four enormous characters were engraved above the wide stone archway:

  Outer Sect Technique Pavilion

  The pavilion had an imposing air about it—like a silent elder watching over the disciples. Two stone lion statues flanked the entrance, each as tall as a man, their eyes glowing faintly with spiritual light.

  Frank stepped forward, but before he could enter, a voice called out from within.

  “Halt. State your purpose.”

  A tall figure emerged from the shadows inside the doorway. The man was dressed in dark blue robes edged with silver thread, his long gray hair tied back neatly. His eyes were sharp, penetrating, and his aura pressed down like an invisible mountain—oppressive yet controlled.

  Frank instinctively bowed. “Outer disciple Frank, reporting to exchange for a basic body cultivation technique.”

  The man narrowed his eyes slightly. “Let me see your identification.”

  Frank quickly pulled out his bronze nameplate and a paper talisman he had received earlier at the administrative hall.

  An aura spread from the elder scanning him from head to toe.

  “You’ve barely reached the threshold of rank 1 dantian cultivation. Do you understand the rules of the pavilion?”

  “I’ve read them, but I’d appreciate a refresher,” Frank said cautiously.

  The guardian grunted in approval. “Respectful and cautious. Good. Listen closely: As an outer disciple, you’re entitled to one free basic body cultivation manual. You are not allowed to copy, sell, or share it. If you lose or destroy the scroll, the replacement will cost you five contribution points or fifty silver coins. Understood?”

  “Understood.”

  “Follow me.”

  They entered the dimly lit pavilion, where the air smelled of old parchment and sandalwood incense. Scrolls lined towering wooden shelves, protected behind transparent spirit-warded panels. Soft blue formations floated in the air like drifting clouds, each one humming with spiritual energy. The interior was much larger than it appeared from the outside—clearly enhanced by spatial formations.

  The guardian led Frank through the first floor, past scrolls marked with names like Iron Skin Technique, Thunder-bone Tempering, and Flowing Rock Foundation. They stopped before a side room with a glowing sigil above the door.

  “Basic manuals are in here. Pick up the basic body cultivation technique and on your way"

  He picked up the basic body cultivation technique from the heap of scrolls littered about, these techniques were all the same, as one cultivation base rises the technique become more specific.

  He Checked his silver coins and headed toward the market. Stalls lined the streets, selling everything from talismans to laundry soap to spiritual beast feed. With some bargaining, Frank picked up a pickaxe, a clothes hanger, thread, perfume, and a cheap iron fork.

  He returned to the residance and placed the items before him and took a deep breath.

  “Craft.”

  Light consumed the items. They hovered mid-air, spun together, and coalesced into a thin black book.

  He opened it and read the first page. The technique focused on chaining punches with seamless momentum, using inner Qi to generate pressure and overwhelming force—simple, efficient, brutal.

  He crafted again.

  The stone appeared, glowing with rainbow hues—pure elemental energy condensed into solid form. The egg followed next, large and obsidian-black, pulsing with warmth. Strange red markings etched themselves across its shell, glowing faintly.

  Frank stood, looking at the items now laid before him.

  A martial technique. A spirit stone. A beast egg.

  And this was only the beginning.

  His cheat wasn’t just broken—it was limitless.

  And now... the real cultivation journey could begin.