“How many did you actually eat?” Fang Zhiyi stared at Little Hei, who was still hiccupping.
Little Hei replied, "Five or six, I guess. There are way too many transmigrators in this world..."
“Wait, aren’t you afraid that thing will chase us?”
“Relax. There’s no way it can find me now. I even tossed it my real body—that should buy us some time at least.” Little Hei smacked his lips. “Besides, the ones I ate weren’t that thing. Those systems all belong to other random bastards.”
“Boss, can you maybe make fewer enemies?” Fang Zhiyi looked a little speechless.
Little Hei chuckled. “Forget it. The systems those transmigrators have are the cheapest kind. You think just anyone can get a high-level system? Nonsense. They have a failure rate built in.”
“How long do we need to wait?” Fang Zhiyi asked helplessly.
Little Hei shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I left a bunch of clones this time. As long as one of them finds the location of that thing... we just have to wait.”
Seeing Fang Zhiyi fall silent, Little Hei added, “Fine, I still think it’s—Damn!”
Fang Zhiyi followed his gaze and turned around. A massive, pitch-black entity was already closing in on them.
“Didn’t you say it would buy us time?” Fang Zhiyi’s scalp tingled. Given Little Hei’s current state, picking a fight with that thing was no different from suicide.
“How the hell was I supposed to know?” Little Hei yelled. “In that case, let’s just...” He seemed to make up his mind, and right in front of that thing, he dove straight into a passage.
Even so, Fang Zhiyi felt something strike Little Hei’s body, sending violent tremors through his own form, too.
The world spun. Fang Zhiyi felt himself plummeting straight down from the sky.
A strange sense of despair washed over him.
Until he suddenly snapped his eyes open and sat up, gasping for air. He started checking his body, but just as his hand touched his stomach, he froze. Body?
Little Hei’s weak voice echoed in his ears. “Stop dazing. This time I’m counting on you.”
“What’s going on?”
“That thing can’t enter the world itself, so it sends transmigrators in for it—got it?” Little Hei explained. “As long as you can handle the people it sends, we’ll be safe for now... especially in a world like this.”
“What do you mean, ‘a world like this’?” Fang Zhiyi had just started to ask when someone nearby said in surprise, “He’s alive! Little Wuzi is alive!”
Fang Zhiyi jerked his head up and looked around. First, he saw a startled monk, then several people gathered around him.
Their clothes were ragged, clearly ordinary villagers.
“Little Wuzi, hurry and thank the master! If it weren’t for his chanting, you’d have been gone!” one person said to Fang Zhiyi. He looked back at the monk, and in that single glance, he saw the monk’s face full of bewildered confusion.
“Amitabha. This young benefactor (patron) was not meant to die. A joyous and auspicious event indeed,” the monk said.
Little Hei chimed in at that moment. “Timing worked out—this guy was about to croak, and we didn’t have any other choice. You get it, right?”
“Master Tripitaka, Little Wuzi might still be a bit out of it. This old man will offer his thanks on his behalf!” An elderly man bowed deeply to the monk.
Fang Zhiyi’s mind exploded. Tripitaka? A Journey to the West world? Understanding dawned. For him and Little Hei, this was the safest kind of world. That thing would be dead if it tried to cause trouble here.
“I only did what little I could. No need for thanks. Please, old sir, rise.” Tang Seng reached out to help the old man up.
Knowing the inside story, Fang Zhiyi watched the scene unfold.
“Wait, he just accepted it like that?”
Little Hei answered, “This world isn’t the same as the one you visited before. It’s still related to Journey to the West, but you have to understand—there are countless Journey to the West worlds out there. No two are exactly alike.”
Fang Zhiyi curled his lip.
When word spread that Little Wuzi was alive, some villagers came to check on him, but most came just to see the miracle-working monk. They also prepared some food.
The food was meager. Fang Zhiyi had millet porridge, while Tang Seng ate coarse rice. For that era, an ordinary family willing to offer coarse rice to honor Tang Seng was already high-standard treatment.
As Fang Zhiyi listened to them talk, he pieced together the original host’s background—no parents, raised on charity meals, barely scraping by. But he’d fallen ill with a strange sickness a few days ago. That must have been when he took over.
“So that means I’m pretty much a zombie?” Fang Zhiyi mumbled to himself, just joking.
But Little Hei said, “You know... in the Journey to the West world, everything about a mortal’s fate is fixed. After the original host died, his soul went straight to the underworld. And you took over his body... Huh.”
Fang Zhiyi smacked his thigh suddenly. “That means we just exploited a loophole, didn’t we? The original owner is already dead, so down in the underworld, they won’t find me on the records!”
Little Hei laughed. “Now you get it. Don’t blame me for picking you some random mortal. It had to be this way—unless you want to fight the underworld head-on.”
Fang Zhiyi only then noticed that his smack had made the villagers, who had been chatting with Tang Seng, all stare at him. He nodded and bowed sheepishly. “You go on, you go on. I just thought of something happy.”
“That Little Wuzi has always been slow-witted. Master, pay him no mind,” the old man said, then turned to Fang Zhiyi. “Little Wuzi, go get some rest. When you’re better, remember to come thank the master. If it weren’t for him, you’d already be reporting to King Yanluo!”
“That’s right! That’s right!” the others chimed in.
Fang Zhiyi curled his lip. He stood up and went to sleep. Despite his alert mind, his body wasn’t holding up.
And rationally, he knew: don’t get tangled up with Tang Seng in any way. That guy was practically a VIP at the table—anyone stuck with him would probably end up as cannon fodder.
He was here to lay low, not to court disaster.
But the hard, earthen bed made it impossible to get comfortable no matter how he lay.
“Make money! Make money! Starting tomorrow, I’m going to make money!” Fang Zhiyi growled viciously and then closed his eyes to sleep.
He didn’t know how long had passed when sudden cries of weeping woke him. Fang Zhiyi forced his eyes open. It was still night.
“Who is it?” he muttered irritably, sitting up. But as his mind cleared up a bit, he realized the cries were coming from outside. He could hear shouting and the sound of things breaking and smashing.
In the village, several bodies lay on the ground, their faces frozen in expressions of deathly terror.
A band of mountain bandits glared fiercely at the monk who sat in meditation.
“Monk, you got any valuables on you?”
Tang Seng opened his eyes slightly and sighed. “I am a man of the cloth. I have no gold or silver.”
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?
d intelligence to keep the plot moving, and sometimes even the protagonists are forced into absurdly dumb decisions. Why does the A-list celebrity heroine in urban romance novels ditch the top-tier movie star and become a lovestruck fool for a pockmarked male lead? Why do the leads in historical tragedy novels keep dancing between love and death, only for the blind healer to end up suffering the most? And Gu Wei never expected that after finally landing a villain role to stir up trouble, she’d pick the wrong gender! No choice now—she’ll just have to crush the protagonists as a girl!
