People never feel tired when they’re up to no good.
Zhu Yan left right after Guan En, controlling “Zhu Zeyu” as he followed Captain Zheng into the elevator.
“Do you know what our mission is?” Captain Zheng asked in a lowered voice.
What he didn’t know was that a wisp of invisible [Fog] was spilling out from beneath Zhu Zeyu’s feet.
The [Fog] soon drifted through the crack beneath the elevator doors and floated toward Level -23.
“Yes.” Inside the elevator, Zhu Zeyu lowered his voice as well. “Captain Guan said we’re supposed to protect Director Jin.”
Captain Zheng glanced around but didn’t answer Zhu Zeyu right away.
A little over ten minutes earlier, Captain Zheng had received a private message from Director Jin through the [Player Forum]. In a mysterious tone, Director Jin had instructed him on a few matters and repeatedly emphasized that he must avoid too much verbal communication with the others.
“Log in to the Player Forum now,” Captain Zheng said. “The [Hunter]’s abilities are impossible to predict. It’s safer to communicate through the forum.”
Zhu Zeyu said nothing and promptly logged in to the [Player Center].
Two messages Captain Zheng had just sent were waiting there, written in a very conversational tone.
“Zhu Zeyu, I’m going to send you a private message with the details. You cannot leak a single word.”
The elevator doors opened.
“Our job, besides protecting Director Jin, is to keep an eye on Captain Jin.”
Zhu Zeyu followed Captain Zheng out of the elevator.
A sign marked “Level -13” was clearly posted beside the elevator doors.
Through the gaps between the scarlet words floating in his vision, he carefully surveyed the floor.
The corridors here crisscrossed in a confusing maze, and the place was far larger than the White Building.
Identical white light strips illuminated the corridors, while security doors stood in neat rows along both sides.
A card reader was installed beside every door, and entry was only possible with an authorized access card.
The only difference was the number on each door. Zhu Zeyu observed them carefully. Distinguishing the room numbers was practically the only way he could avoid getting lost.
“Captain Jin?”
On the forum, Zhu Zeyu pretended to sound surprised as he replied to Captain Zheng.
“Come to think of it, Captain Jin is still my direct superior. Shouldn’t he be leading us on this mission, Captain Zheng?”
“Could it be that his hand still hasn’t healed?”
Captain Zheng replied quickly.
“I heard that, as a special talent, Captain Jin underwent an augmentation experiment conducted by the military.”
“That matter is highly classified within the organization.”
That’s right, that’s right.
Zhu Zeyu would keep it highly classified too.
“All right, Captain Zheng. Then what do we need to do?”
Captain Zheng didn’t seem to know his way around very well either.
He led Zhu Zeyu back to a fork in the corridor, then turned into a narrower passageway.
“Captain Jin is in Room 1356,” Captain Zheng replied, his expression growing increasingly grim.
“Look at this corridor. See it?”
Zhu Zeyu did.
The narrow corridor had been sealed off by a security door. A thick glass window had been set into the door.
Through the glass, they could see the scene beyond: more white light strips and several tightly closed doors. It looked utterly unremarkable.
“Director Jin is on the other side, in Room 1380.”
Another line of scarlet text appeared in his vision—a private message.
“Room 1356 is top secret. We can’t enter casually either, so we can only patrol the corridor outside.”
“Captain Jin is already inside. There’s also a metal-type specialist. When they enter, they’ll announce themselves and swipe their cards.”
Zhu Zeyu sent back a message to indicate that he understood.
“You’ve met the other members of Captain Jin’s team.”
Captain Zheng raised a hand and patted him on the shoulder.
He had said that part aloud. It seemed the important information had already been conveyed through private messages.
“The arrangement is for my squad and Captain Jin’s squad to take turns standing guard.”
“I’m responsible for the other side right now. The military doctors will be coming up later. You’ll stay here and keep watch.”
“Understood,” Zhu Zeyu said.
“Don’t wander off. Keep the Player Forum open. When the time comes, the two sides will switch shifts.”
Captain Zheng stared into Zhu Zeyu’s eyes to make sure he had understood, then emphasized the point again.
“Pay attention to every single anomaly—every single one! We’ve already installed detectors, but you should know that detectors aren’t omnipotent.”
Indeed, they weren’t.
For example, the detectors had no way to detect the [Fog], which had already reached Level 23 and was drifting about in an invisible state.
“No problem, Captain,” Zhu Zeyu said solemnly. “I will absolutely fulfill my duty and make sure no one gets hurt!”
The red mission text for the [Hunter] suddenly flickered.
“The little liar who lies through his teeth.”
It said that, then flickered again and returned to normal.
Zhu Yan let out a long, silent whistle in his mind.
Captain Zheng laughed heartily and gave Zhu Zeyu’s shoulder a heavy pat.
“Good boy,” he said. “Make sure you protect yourself too. Remember the lesson the [Hunter] taught you last time. You must be careful.”
“Yes, Captain!”
Captain Zheng gave him an encouraging look, then turned and left.
Zhu Zeyu leaned against the corner beside the door, standing ramrod straight.
While pretending to stand guard, he manipulated the [Fog], letting it drift through the utterly different corridors on Level -23.
Level -23 wasn’t entirely cold and impersonal white.
There was even a separate kitchen.
Inside a sealed security door, several chefs in white uniforms were working tirelessly over their woks.
Zhu Yan pressed himself against the glass and could almost smell the food.
He waited for a while, watching as the people inside plated several beautifully presented dishes, covered them with silver lids, and pushed out a food cart. Then they opened the security door.
“Who exactly is the big shot living in here?” one of the delivery workers asked.
“No idea,” another replied.
The [Fog] gently settled over the food cart.
“Don’t ask. We’ve been told not to.” He lowered his voice. “Anyone who can live in a place like this isn’t an ordinary person.”
The young delivery worker was still unwilling to let it go. “I heard the person’s surname is Qiu?”
Qiu Lingxiao?
Zhu Yan considered the possibility.
Was Qiu Lingxiao really living here, or was that poor Qiu Lingxiao merely being used as cover for Jin Rongxu?
Director Jin and Jin Rongxu had probably already learned that Qiu Lingxiao’s family had a [Hunter].
Would they really dare take such a risk?
“What business is it of yours what his surname is?” the other person rebuked him in a low voice. “That’s a violation of the rules, you know?”
“This is such a good job. In times like these, do you really want to get yourself fired and then force your family to risk their lives outside just to earn enough to survive?”
“But those monsters will come eventually—”
“Stop talking about that! Spit!” The other man cut him off. “With the Alliance here, and a shelter this secure, what could possibly come?”
They stopped in front of a thick, sealed security door. The older chef extended his hand and moved the metal ring on his wrist toward the card reader.
There was no glass window in this security door, so Zhu Yan didn’t see what lay beyond until it had opened completely.
Unlike the cold white outside, the room beyond was covered in a thick, warm yellow carpet that stretched all the way to the end of the corridor.
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
+ Slow Paced + Main Character Thrives Together with His Disciples】 Transmigrated into a cultivation world, Chu Xingchen awakens a discipleship system that reveals the tags of his disciples! Starting from scratch, he builds the strongest sect. Disciple One: Li Yingling 【Gold Tag: Genius Cultivator】【Purple Tag: Extremely Lucky】【Blue Tag: Bewitchingly Beautiful】 Disciple Two: Li Hangtian 【Gold Tag: Reincarnated】【Purple Tag: Ruthless and Decisive】【Blue Tag: Loyal and Noble】 Disciple Three: ??? 【Orange Tag: Alluring Demoness】【???】【???】 Thus, in the cultivation world, an unremarkable little sect appears out of nowhere, but little do others know that each member of this sect is a powerhouse in their own right. The book is also known as: Cultivation? It's Exactly Like This!
