Let's End This Game of Playing House.

"Heh... hahahahaha!"

"If the heavens had not birthed me, Mo Yu, the villains would be shrouded in eternal darkness."

"From now on, I will no longer be the man I once was. Chosen ones? Merely stepping stones beneath my feet."

Claiming to have glimpsed the past and future of all things, Mo Yu planted one foot on a stool and laughed uproariously at the sky.

Gradually, his laughter faded as he recalled his tragic fate in the original story—only to remember that he now had a system to aid him. A wicked, arrogant smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.

"Do villains always have to die?"

"Screw that twisted destiny!"

"My fate is mine to command! Life or death—I alone decide!"

"Since heaven wants me dead, I shall defy it!"

He raised his hands high and howled at the heavens.

"From this day forth, I will let no sky block my sight, no earth hinder my will!"

"Let all the world bow before me!"

.........

The butler, standing at the door, heard the commotion from inside the room and couldn't help trembling, muttering to himself in confusion: "Damn it, why has the young master suddenly gone crazy?"

"Could it be... too much pressure? Has he lost his mind?"

"But that doesn't make sense," the butler frowned. "His father is the head of the Mo family, and his mother is the sovereign of the Tai Xu Sacred Land. With a background like that, what pressure could he possibly have?"

Just as he was racking his brains over the matter—

Creak~

The door suddenly swung open.

The butler turned his head and nearly jumped in fright.

Mo Yu was tilting his head, staring at him with an eerily twisted grin, a few drops of drool glistening at the corner of his mouth.

"Young... young master, are you alright?" The butler instinctively stepped back.

"Not at all."

Mo Yu wiped the drool from his lips, suppressing the surging ambition in his heart, and patted the butler's shoulder.

"I've just had a breakthrough. I'm in a great mood."

After all, this man was his personal butler—a seasoned veteran who had followed his father since the old days. He deserved some respect.

"Do you know where my father is? I need to see him about something."

"The head of the family should be cultivating in the meditation chamber," the butler replied quickly.

Truly worthy of being the ultimate villain—always diligent in his training.

Hearing this, Mo Yu showed no surprise. He nodded and strode off toward the meditation chamber.

He had already made up his mind.

Since he had transmigrated, and right before the chosen one had even left the newbie village—

What was he waiting for?

The kid was still small. The perfect time to kill him.

"As long as I kill the chosen one, his opportunities, his women—they'll all be mine," Mo Yu muttered as he walked, his smirk impossible to suppress.

And after he stripped the protagonist of his fortune, if his father wanted to destroy the world and ascend to immortality—what then?

That was simple too.

His father loved him, right? So surely he'd forgive a little backstabbing. And besides, his old man was a genuine villain through and through. Killing him would be doing the world a favor.

Lost in these thoughts, Mo Yu walked faster and faster.

He could almost see a bright tomorrow beckoning him forward.

Meanwhile, in the meditation chamber.

A man in black robes sat cross-legged, eyes closed in cultivation. His aura was deep and boundless, as though the great Dao itself revolved around him.

"I feel like something bad is about to happen."

Mo Yuan suddenly opened his eyes, frowning slightly.

At his level of cultivation, instinct was often more accurate than what the eyes could see. It had saved him from countless lethal ambushes before.

But this feeling came out of nowhere, with no clear cause.

Just as he was puzzling over it—

Knock, knock, knock...

A crisp rapping at the door sounded.

"Father, are you in there?"

That useless son of mine?

Mo Yuan's frown deepened, his confusion growing, but he still replied, "Come in."

Mo Yu pushed the door open, his face wearing an obedient smile.

In front of this—the greatest antagonist in the original novel, the ruthless Mo Tian Emperor—Mo Yu couldn't help but feel a little nervous.

He was afraid the man might decide to refine him into a pill on a whim.

But since what he needed required his father's approval, Mo Yu gritted his teeth and spoke:

"Father, I'd like to ask a favor."

"Speak."

"It's just..." Mo Yu rubbed his hands together with an awkward grin, "I want to kill someone. Can you help me?"

If the old man struck, it would be a sure thing—like grabbing prey with ease.

"Kill someone?"

Mo Yuan's brow furrowed even deeper. That vague, ominous feeling grew stronger.

"Who?"

"Oh, it's just a nobody. You've probably never heard of him. But you must know the Ye family from the Eastern Wastelands—the one that also holds a key to the Eight Immortals Ruins."

Mo Yu licked his lips.

"They have a fallen prodigy named Ye Shu. I suspect the key is with him, so..."

"And you're interested in matters like this now?"

Mo Yuan cast a surprised glance at his ostensibly useless son.

Given his son's usual intelligence, he couldn't have devised such a grand scheme on his own. Extraordinary actions reeked of hidden motives.

It had to be a trap!

But the key was a vital part of his own plans—he couldn't leave it untouched.

Thus, he found himself in a dilemma.

After a moment of contemplation, Mo Yuan asked, "What's his current cultivation level?"

"Should be... Foundation Establishment," Mo Yu scratched his head. According to the story timeline, it was nearly a year in, and the protagonist should be at mid-Level Foundation Establishment. He had just joined the Green Abyss Sect and hadn't had time to gather any strange flames yet.

"Foundation Establishment?"

Mo Yuan frowned. "What kind of realm is that?"

"Huh?" Mo Yu was startled. "Father, you don't even know about Foundation Establishment? It's the second great realm for cultivators."

"..........."

Mo Yuan searched his memory for a long time before finally recall that such a realm had indeed existed.

"The Ye family has truly fallen," he sighed slowly. "In my day, I was born into the Nascent Soul stage. I'd never even heard of Foundation Establishment."

"So the Ye family has become this weak."

"Such an ant doesn't require my personal action," Mo Yuan said gravely. "I have important matters to attend to recently. I can't afford to draw attention with any big moves."

"Go to Uncle Fu. He oversees the Soul Lock Hall. Pick a few men and have them accompany you."

"Yes, sir."

Mo Yu bowed resentfully and turned to leave.

As expected—his old man never can resist outsourcing his work. No wonder the protagonist chopped him down in the end.

I can't repeat his mistakes.

Mo Yu vowed silently as he strode toward Uncle Fu's residence.

"Young master, what brings you here?"

Uncle Fu looked at the hurried Mo Yu with some confusion.

"Assemble a few men. We're going to the Eastern Wastelands."

Mo Yu cut straight to the point.

"The Eastern Wastelands?" Uncle Fu paused in surprise. "What would you want to go to such a backwater place for, young master?"

"It's simple."

Mo Yu smiled.

"We're going to kill someone."

"Kill someone?" Uncle Fu was puzzled but still agreed. "How many men should I bring, young master?"

"Bring them all."

"What?"

Uncle Fu was taken aback, staring at Mo Yu's face—so serious it bordered on obsession. For a moment, he didn't know how to respond.

"Young master, the Shadow Guards of the Soul Lock Hall are at least at the Divine Transformation stage, the elite."

"Yes. That's exactly what I want—every single one of them."

Mo Yu's lips curled into a cold sneer as he gazed into the distance, toward the Green Abyss Sect.

"The time for playing games is over."