008 Unique Cultivation [Part 3]

  I had expected to see something profound when I turned my Mind’s Eye inward—

  Blood.

  Bone.

  Flesh.

  Maybe even the intricate details of blood cells or atoms.

  But when I opened my eyes—

  I found myself in an endless white void.

  And in front of me stood—

  Old Fu Shi.

  The original. The Perfect Immortal. The one whose memories and body I now claimed as my own.

  I froze.

  Why was he inside me?

  Shouldn’t he have already moved on?

  I had always thought that he was dead, his soul gone to the afterlife, leaving only his empty body behind for me to inherit.

  But now, here he was, staring at me with a mixture of disapproval and amusement.

  “Hey there, young man...” the old man said in a chiding tone.

  That voice carried an air of kindly authority—like a teacher scolding an unruly student while secretly being proud of him.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  I lifted my arm to touch my skin—

  Only to realize I had no body.

  I was formless.

  A floating consciousness that existed simply because I thought I did.

  "What the fuck is happening!?"

  Old Fu Shi raised his hand, and a crystal-clear mirror appeared between us.

  In its reflection, I saw a young man in his mid-20s with disheveled black hair and dark eyes.

  I blinked.

  That was... me.

  But why?

  I had thought I had fully become Fu Shi—yet my reflection did not show his old face, but my original one.

  A strange sense of displacement overtook me.

  His name was—

  No.

  My name was—

  "Who am I?"

  The man in the mirror frowned at me, mimicking my confusion.

  The thoughts in my head became chaotic, like tangled threads in a web of contradictions.

  I clenched my fist—

  And the mirror shattered.

  CRACK!

  The shards disintegrated into nothingness.

  Old Fu Shi chuckled softly.

  “You are you,” he said.

  “And I am me.”

  He stroked his long, messy beard with the air of a sage, watching me carefully.

  I took a deep breath, steadying my thoughts.

  “Why are you here? I thought you were gone.”

  The old man smiled.

  “After I lost the Heaven’s Game, I took precautions to preserve myself. You—” he gestured at me, “—are the result of that.”

  Heaven’s Game.

  I remembered it through his memories—

  A series of trials:

  A game of chess.

  A puzzle.

  A simple toss of a coin.

  These were called the Three Heavenly Trades—but what they actually meant? No one knew except the Gods of Heaven.

  If someone won, they would gain immense power.

  But if they lost...

  Fu Shi had nearly won all three games.

  But in the end—

  He only succeeded in one.

  Even though he had technically won, he wasn’t rewarded.

  Instead, his cultivation was forcibly stripped away.

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  How?

  How could something as powerful as the Perfect Immortal Realm be destroyed?

  It was impossible—

  Unless... the Heavens themselves intervened.

  I remembered it happening.

  But I did not remember how.

  That fact alone terrified me.

  It was like knowing that Santa Claus existed, but not knowing how the presents got under the tree.

  Something was missing.

  Something was wrong.

  Suddenly—

  A sharp migraine slammed into my skull.

  I gasped, clutching my head—except there was nothing to clutch.

  It felt like a hammer was crushing my consciousness.

  “Young man,” Fu Shi’s voice cut through the pain. “In my stead, you shall fight the Heavens.”

  His words felt like chains wrapping around my fate.

  I gritted my teeth.

  Why?

  Why me?

  I had never asked for this.

  I had already died once, only to be thrown into this world, forced to live another man’s life.

  And now, I was expected to fight the Heavens?

  I felt my thoughts spiraling into panic.

  “Wait, wait, wait—” I shook my head. “Why is this up to me? What about my past life? No—wait, that didn’t even matter... but still! Tell me—”

  I looked straight into the old man’s calm, yet pitying gaze.

  “How much of my life was I ever in control of?”

  Fu Shi stopped stroking his beard.

  His gaze darkened.

  For the first time, I saw something deep in his eyes.

  Something older than eternity itself.

  And when he spoke—

  His words shook me to my very core.

  "None."

  I blinked.

  Fu Shi continued, his voice filled with a quiet, solemn truth.

  "You have no control. None of us ever did. The Heavens dictate our fates, and we simply follow. As cultivators, we try to defy fate, to seek longevity, to fight for our own existence… but in the end, we are all bound by the will of the Heavens."

  His words felt like iron chains wrapping around my very being.

  A truth too vast to comprehend.

  I had always thought that, even if life was unfair, I at least had choices.

  But what if...

  Everything had already been decided?

  Questions piled on top of questions—

  And yet, I had no answers.

  “It is a futile struggle.”

  Old Fu Shi’s voice was filled with bitterness, his wrinkled face contorted with rage.

  “Why?” he continued, his hand clenching into a fist as if trying to grasp something that would never be his to hold.

  “It is because the Heavens forbid us.”

  A deep crack ran across his form, splintering his body like fragile porcelain.

  “This is why you must fight.”

  I stared at him, unblinking.

  “What if I don’t?”

  “What if I refuse to fight the Heavens?”

  The words slipped from my mouth instinctively, yet at the same time, it felt like they were always meant to be spoken.

  Somehow, our conversation followed a logic that shouldn’t make sense—

  But it did.

  It was implicit.

  Self-explanatory.

  Like I was reading between the lines of a story I had always known.

  “You have no choice,” Old Fu Shi said, his voice final.

  “They will come for you with a vengeance. The Heaven’s Chosen will never allow Fu Shi to exist again.”

  I felt my heart sink.

  This wasn’t about me choosing to fight.

  It was about survival.

  A thought suddenly surfaced—

  My past life.

  “…Then what about before all this? My past life… why are so many memories blurred?”

  Old Fu Shi's gaze dimmed, as if he were staring at something even he couldn’t comprehend.

  “I don’t know.”

  His voice was distant.

  I clenched my fists.

  I could remember being an Earthling.

  I remembered the abusive gaming studio that wrung me dry like a used rag.

  I remembered the grinding, the suffering, the hopelessness.

  But—

  I did not remember my name.

  I could recall the pain but not the person I was.

  It was too much.

  Too incredulous.

  My nails dug into my palms—hard—enough that I could almost feel the blood dripping between my fingers.

  Was this my real life?

  Or was it all just a cruel joke played by the Heavens?

  Before I could demand more answers,

  Old Fu Shi’s body began to crumble.

  Faint wisps of ash peeled away from him, like dust scattered by the wind.

  He did not struggle.

  He only watched me, eyes filled with something I could not place.

  Something that felt like—

  Regret.

  And then—

  He was gone.

  I stood there, surrounded by nothing but endless white.

  There was no sound.

  No movement.

  No answers.

  Just me—

  And the realization that nothing I had known was ever truly mine to begin with.

  This place—

  It had to be inside my mind.

  I was certain of it now.

  This white void, the shifting memories—this was my Mental World.

  A hallucination?

  No.

  A fever dream?

  No.

  Even if it was a dream, I couldn’t dismiss that conversation.

  The sensation of my nails biting into my palms was too real.

  The memories, the emotions, the desperation—all of it was real.

  There was no way I could brush this aside as just another illusion.

  This was truth.

  And truth was something I could never run away from.

  Then, without warning—

  I felt a pull—

  A force yanking me back into the confines of my original body.

  My eyes snapped open.

  The void was gone.

  The whiteness vanished.

  I was back.

  I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my breath heavy.

  The old man I had spoken to—

  Was he truly Old Fu Shi himself?

  No.

  He couldn’t have been.

  Fu Shi had already been annihilated after the Heaven’s Game.

  Then—

  That must have been nothing more than the remnants of his consciousness.

  A dying imprint.

  A fragment of the past.

  Yet—

  I sat up, running a hand through my hair, trying to ground myself.

  Who am I?

  Am I—

  Fu Shi?

  Or am I still the man from my past life?

  I searched my mind for a name—any name—

  But all I found was silence.

  The past was slipping away, buried beneath layers of another man’s existence.

  If I cannot remember my name…

  Then I must be Fu Shi.

  Right?

  “…Fucking shit,” I muttered under my breath, frustration boiling over.

  And here I thought—

  I had already moved on from my past life.

  For a moment, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

  But that was easy to check.

  I simply had to look at my system.

  A familiar screen materialized in my mind’s eye.

  [Name: Fu Shi]

  [Quintessence: 91]

  [Players: 0/1]

  I frowned.

  Fourteen quintessence had accumulated since my seclusion, meaning about two weeks must have passed.

  But something felt off.

  I didn’t feel hungry.

  Or tired.

  Or even the slightest bit lethargic.

  Was this because of my meditation?

  Or maybe because I had immersed too deeply into my Mental World?

  I pushed aside the questions for later.

  Something else had caught my eye.

  [Players: 0/1]

  My breath hitched.

  Zero?

  There should have been one.

  What happened?

  Why wasn’t Bi Yuan registered as my player?

  My fingers twitched.

  An uneasy feeling clawed at my chest.

  No.

  No, no, no—

  My body moved before my thoughts could catch up.

  Mind’s Eye—Activate!

  I willed my consciousness outward, reaching for the familiar presence of my first and only player.

  A surge of fear struck me down.

  And then—

  An unimaginable rage rose beyond the calm facade I always wore.

  No.

  This could not be.

  My mind refused to process what I saw.

  But my eyes—they did not lie.

  Bi Yuan’s small, frail body lay lifeless on the ground.

  Her once pristine white fur was stained with blood.

  Her tiny frame was still, unmoving.

  And her eyes—

  The bright, intelligent glimmer that once shone in them—

  Was gone.

  What remained was the dull greyness of the dead.

  I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms so deeply I barely noticed the warm trickle of blood seeping through my fingers.

  It wasn’t enough that she was dead.

  Her body was being desecrated.

  Through the Mind’s Eye, I saw him.

  A cultivator, crouching beside Bi Yuan’s corpse.

  His hands, filthy and unworthy, sliced into her flesh with precision.

  He worked like a butcher, harvesting her body for whatever dark purpose he had in mind.

  His aura—

  Dark. Sinister. Corrupt with evil arts.

  My breathing was ragged.

  Every fiber of my being screamed.

  I felt my bones shake with the sheer force of my fury.

  I didn’t care who he was.

  I didn’t care why he did it.

  All that mattered was—

  A single word escaped my lips.

  “Vengeance.”

  It came out calm, almost whispered—but it carried the weight of a storm.

  Etched into my eyes was a cold, unwavering killing intent.

  Bi Yuan was mine.

  And I would make him suffer for taking her away.