"Look at you... just look at you!!"
Zhao Wendao's beard bristled with anger as he pointed a teaching rod at Zhong Yi, who knelt on the ground with a guilty expression.
"Master, this disciple admits his mistake," Zhong Yi said, his face flushing red as he hurriedly apologized.
Earlier, on a whim, he had dragged Mu Yawen into playing Scoundrel's Teahouse.
To his surprise, the Heavenly Dao Secret Realm had recovered quickly, rendering their communication jade slips useless.
Zhong Yi then sent Li Moran to inform the elders that they were safe.
But in that short span of time, Zhong Yi had managed to doom himself with his own jinxed words.
It started with a careless laugh—"Hahaha, six chances, how could I possibly get it on the first try?"—and ended with a single, fatal shot, sealing his fate.
As if that weren’t enough, Chi Shengtian, outside the secret realm, had just divined an ominous sign:
"A true disciple has fallen."
The elders were frantic.
They had assumed that even if a Golden Core cultivator practiced forbidden arts or demonic techniques, they’d be no match for a Nascent Soul expert.
Yet three had entered, and now one was dead?
Especially Zhao Wendao—these were all disciples of the Lingxiao Sect, the pride of their sect!
Dozens of elders, their bodies drained and blood trickling from their noses and mouths, forced their way in, ready to avenge their fallen disciple…
And so, the scene unfolded.
Lu Ze, the real instigator, stood behind Zhong Yi, struggling to suppress his laughter.
The mighty Nascent Soul senior brother, kneeling pitifully before everyone, being scolded—it was downright comical.
I have to recreate this legendary moment with Zhong Yi’s digital soul in the secret realm later, Lu Ze thought. I’ll make sure he understands what "eternal classic" means.
"You’ll get what’s coming to you when we return!" Zhao Wendao glared at Zhong Yi before turning a meaningful gaze toward Lu Ze.
"So, you’re saying you killed the sect leader?"
"Indeed. Though the demonic cultivator’s realm was high, his foundation was unstable. I exploited that," Lu Ze answered calmly.
"I see."
Zhao Wendao nodded thoughtfully.
Inside the secret realm, they had captured eight demonic cultivators.
The strongest among them was at the late Golden Core stage, nearing Great Perfection.
Zhao Wendao’s discerning eyes could easily gauge their cultivation levels.
A sect leader would undoubtedly be stronger than a late Golden Core cultivator—certainly not someone with a shaky foundation.
In other words, Lu Ze, at mid-Golden Core, had slain a half-step Nascent Soul demonic cultivator.
And judging by his unscathed appearance, he likely hadn’t even gone all out.
Zhao Wendao sighed inwardly:
The Lingxiao Sect has truly birthed another peerless genius.
……
……
After the secret realm incident, two noticeable changes swept through the five great sects.
First, the crusades against demonic factions surged once more.
Second, Scoundrel’s Teahouse exploded in popularity, becoming an instant sensation among cultivators.
Disputes over treasure rights or luck-based decisions were now frequently settled through the game.
Riding the wave, Lu Ze introduced a marketplace feature.
Spirit stones could buy outfits, crossbow skins, arrow skins, death effects…
Players could even play background music or request songs during matches.
The most iconic was the 1-spirit-stone voice pack.
The thickly accented "Your cards are just too good!" was guaranteed to tilt opponents and ruin their judgment…
……
If Three Kingdoms Kill was the epitome of heavy monetization, relying on whales to sustain the game,
Then Lu Ze’s approach with Scoundrel’s Teahouse was low-cost, high-volume sales.
And it worked.
At the very least, the paying player base grew, helping cultivate spending habits among cultivators.
They can’t all be freeloaders, right?
With Scoundrel’s Teahouse running smoothly, Lu Ze prepared to step back and focus on developing a new online game.
But something felt missing.
After some reflection, he realized—when he thought of Scoundrel’s Tavern, the first thing that came to mind was those rubber-fruit-eating giraffes from his past life…
"Ugh."
Lu Ze found it absurd.
In his past life, Scoundrel’s Tavern had once been wildly popular, with player counts soaring.
Yet no one could’ve predicted—
A casual card game would fall victim to cheaters!
The game had essentially been killed by hacks.
Still…
Those infamous cheating moments were so bizarrely hilarious that even Lu Ze couldn’t forget them.
Just recalling those surreal scenes made him chuckle.
Though Scoundrel’s Tavern had been ruined by hacks, it had also birthed countless legendary memes.
In this life, Lu Ze didn’t have to worry about cheats.
With the Heavenly Dao’s remnant spirit overseeing things, creating "hacks" was near impossible.
"BOOM—!"
An explosion rang out—the sound of someone forcibly expelling themselves from the illusionary realm after losing control of their qi.
Lu Ze turned to look.
"Damn it!! Is this illusion rigged or what?!"
Zhou Yue roared, the black-and-red flames behind him flickering dangerously.
After being one-shot for the umpteenth time, he’d finally snapped.
His qi surged uncontrollably, disconnecting him from the game.
"Come on, Brother Zhou, don’t be sore—let’s play a few more rounds!"
Zhong Yi cheerfully exited the illusion and patted his shoulder.
In Scoundrel’s Teahouse, Zhong Yi had rediscovered the confidence shattered by Bed Wars, thriving like a fish in water.
On the Lingxiao Sect server, his accumulated score was the highest.
Though everyone who matched with him begged him to shut up…
"No! Never again! I’d rather die than play this trash!"
Zhou Yue’s lips twitched with rage.
While he didn’t die on the first shot every time, his odds were suspiciously higher than most.
It made for a miserable experience.
"Brother Zhou, listen to me—there’s skill to this game…"
Zhong Yi continued consoling his sworn brother.
"Skill my ass! If I could use my real abilities, you’d be toast!"
Zhou Yue scoffed.
"Pfft. Even in reality, I’d wipe the floor with you!"
Zhong Yi shot him a disdainful look.
Whether in strategy or spells, he was brimming with confidence.
"Uh… Senior Brothers," Lu Ze interjected, his eyes glinting mischievously.
"What if I tweaked the illusion… and let you bring some of your cultivation into the game?"
Zhou Yue sneered. "Then I’d blast his jinxed mouth to bits!"
Zhong Yi smirked. "Oh? Then I’d make sure you die in one shot even if you win!"
Lu Ze grinned.
A brilliant idea struck him.
For cultivators in the illusionary realm, "hacks" were just their real-world abilities.
What if…
He turned "hacks" into an event and loosened the restrictions a little?
With that, he posted an announcement:
[Server Announcement:]
[Starting tomorrow, a new illusionary event—"Battle of the Gods"—will begin!]
[Duration: Three days.]
[Event Details:]
The Illusory Realm will temporarily unlock the cultivation function. Players may bring one spell below the Nascent Soul stage into the game. Duplicate spell effects are prohibited within a single match.
All combat actions are forbidden in the Illusory Realm. Players are encouraged to strategize wisely and enjoy the game in a civilized manner!
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.
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
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."
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
