That ethereal voice was like a clear spring, instantly soothing Fang Fan's agitated emotions.
Fang Fan felt his consciousness grow heavy, unable to summon even a single extra thought.
In his dazed state, he seemed to see a little girl with pigtails smiling at him.
In an instant, fragmented memories pieced themselves together.
The first choice—the girl with pigtails was her!
The second choice—the silently weeping little girl was also her!
The final choice—the pitiful little beggar was still her!
She had blurred his perception. No matter what he chose, it would be wrong—unless he chose her!
Wrong was right, and right was wrong!
Fang Fan understood. He had figured it all out!
The moment this realization struck him, his lost arms returned, and his severed head reattached itself!
All his dulled senses sharpened once more, and Fang Fan felt the solid ground beneath his feet.
Slowly opening his eyes, he found himself no longer within the Abyssal Scales of Judgment but in a space suffused with chaotic energy.
Glancing around, he stood on a massive platform suspended amidst vast, swirling currents of primordial chaos.
The platform was perfectly circular, its material neither metal nor jade, its surface covered in profound Chaos Runes that exuded an aura weathered by time.
As Fang Fan consciously observed them, the Chaos Runes suddenly came alive, shifting between light and shadow, their elusive Dao Rhyme spreading like the revelation of the universe's birth and the division of chaos!
Not far away stood a familiar guide stele.
Inscribed upon it were the words—"Platform of True Heart."
Beside the stele, a small figure floated playfully.
A white dress, red shoes, and pigtails... Though her attire was entirely different, Fang Fan was certain—this was the little girl he had encountered in his choices!
"Hehe, big brother, welcome to the sixth trial. Are you ready for the final challenge?" the girl giggled as she looked at him.
Fang Fan fell silent for a moment before asking quietly, "I'm curious—what would have happened if I hadn’t chosen any option involving you?"
The girl tilted her head. "That would’ve been cruel. Your points would’ve been deducted entirely, and the Abyssal Scales of Judgment would’ve purified you completely."
Fang Fan's lips twitched. "So, no matter what I chose, I would’ve been punished with point deductions?"
The girl nodded. "The essence of the Abyssal Scales of Judgment is fairness. Every choice you make manifests in reality, and the consequences are yours to bear."
Fang Fan pressed further, "Are the choices the same for every challenger?"
The girl shook her head. "The options differ, but their nature remains the same. Alright, alright, I’ve answered enough questions. Are you going to take on this final trial or not?"
Hesitating briefly, Fang Fan asked, "Just one last question, if I may?"
But the girl cut him off. "If it’s about the secrets of this realm, forget it. You’ll know everything once you clear the trial!"
Hearing this, Fang Fan hesitated no longer. Taking a deep breath, the chaotic Dao Rhyme suffusing the space invigorated his spirit, yet he also sensed an unprecedented weight pressing upon him.
His gaze swept across the empty platform before he strode to the guide stele and left behind another encrypted document—proof of his arrival.
With that done, he stepped resolutely past the stele and marched forward!
Hum!
The moment his foot landed, the surroundings shifted.
He now stood in a space entirely lined with mirrors.
Countless reflections of Fang Fan surrounded him, stretching endlessly in every direction.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The mirrors trembled as nine figures stepped out from them!
Tattered silver-trimmed azure immortal robes, a lean frame, a youthful yet calm face, the same Dao Rhyme swirling around them, and the habitual flicker of sharp sword light at their fingertips—every detail was identical to the Fang Fan standing at the center!
The nine mirror clones perfectly replicated the original—aura, cultivation, attire, demeanor, even the faint trace of caution in their eyes!
"Fighting myself? That’s it?"
Fang Fan smirked.
To put it bluntly, he was no stranger to this kind of challenge—far from it!
Why?
Because in the Violet Star Immortal Realm, there was a trial site called the "Dream Mirage," refined by the Calamity-Suppressing Venerable. It was... fun.
After his duties, he loved training there—addictive, thrilling, and endlessly entertaining!
The Dream Mirage’s beginner difficulty involved fighting a single Nightmare Spirit that could mimic the challenger. The intermediate difficulty? Ten of yourself. The advanced difficulty? Ten of yourself, but enhanced by the Dream Mirage’s vast combat database. The hellish difficulty?
...Fighting the Calamity-Suppressing Venerable himself!
Though restricted to the same cultivation realm, his power wasn’t too exaggerated—except for that halberd strike of his. To this day, no one had survived a single hit!
It was downright unfair. At the same realm, he could unleash attacks ten times stronger than normal—how was anyone supposed to compete?
Fighting yourself was about patching weaknesses and uncovering flaws. Fighting the Calamity-Suppressing Venerable? That was pure masochism.
But none of that mattered now. What did matter was that Fang Fan was experienced at fighting himself.
After all, the hardest opponent for any cultivator wasn’t an enemy—it was the self, who knew every move and thought.
Only by defeating yourself could you earn a seat at the monstrous table of the Violet Star Immortal Realm.
Defeat ten of yourself? Then you’d earn some praise, and no one would dare object when you turned the table.
Defeat ten of yourself enhanced by a combat database? Then you’d sit at the head of the Violet Star’s monstrous table, and others would lean in to catch your every word.
Defeat the Calamity-Suppressing Venerable?
...You’d receive a personal audience and a jade token of honor, granting you the right to strut through the Violet Star like a tyrant!
Fang Fan, unfortunately, had only barely cleared the intermediate difficulty—just enough to earn the right to turn the table.
Surveying the nine mirror clones, Fang Fan grinned smugly. "Only nine? Bring out one more. I’ll take on te—"
Before he could finish—
BAM!
One of the clones flickered forward and punched Fang Fan straight into the fluid-like mirrored ceiling, embedding him so deeply he couldn’t even pry himself free!
"Wait, hold on—since when was I this strong?! This isn’t like the Dream Mirage at all!"
Fang Fan stared blankly at the nine clones standing ominously below, his scalp tingling with dread.
This was bad. The mirror selves on the Platform of True Heart were far deadlier than the Dream Mirage’s Nightmare Spirits!
Compared to the intermediate difficulty of the Dream Mirage, these clones... lacked the combat database’s techniques, but their raw stats were overwhelmingly superior. How was he supposed to win now?!
......
Author’s Note: Writing while sick, but still pushing through without breaks—my gaze is as unyielding as stone, my heart set on perseverance!
Sadly, no perfect attendance bonus this month... Could I trouble you for a small gift to soothe my ailing body and wounded soul?
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."
and couldn't return to the real world. Finally, I gave up and decided to go with the flow, only to discover that writing a diary could make me stronger. Since no one could read it, Su Luo wrote freely, daring to pen anything and everything. Female Lead #1: "Not bad. This diary helped me steal all the protagonist's opportunities. I just want to get stronger." Female Lead #2: "I don’t care about reaching the peak of the cultivation world. Right now, I just want to enjoy the chaos." Female Lead #3: "What? Everyone around me is a spy? I’m the Joker Demon Lord?" ... It’s so strange. Why is the plot completely off track, yet the ending remains the same? Are you all just messing with me?!
with countless casualties. As a top-tier gamer, Liu Xuan volunteered to join the fight, intending to dominate with his skills, but instead he obtained the hidden class: [Pacifist]. Unable to attack. Unable to use active skills. Fortunately, with each level gained, he acquired a new passive skill. And so, armed with a body full of passives, Liu Xuan slaughtered his way through the battlefield of ten thousand races! [You attacked Liu Xuan] [You gained the debuffs: 'Poison', 'Fear', 'Burning', 'Bleeding', 'Freeze', 'Silence', etc.] [Your attack speed has been reduced by 99%] [Your armor and magic resistance have been reduced by 99%] Warriors of the Ten Thousand Races: How the hell am I supposed to fight this?!
