For the next week,
The light of demonic arts spilled across the land.
Within the borders of the Great Zhou Dynasty, ghosts were forbidden to roam.
All of them had been wiped out by Lu Ze...
From vengeful spirits down to wandering souls, every last one had been collected into Lu Ze's Ten Thousand Souls Banner.
"This should be enough now."
Lu Ze gazed at the banner, packed to the brim with ferocious ghosts and malevolent spirits, feeling somewhat satisfied.
He suddenly realized how exhausting it was to create games for cultivators.
Between setting up formations and capturing ghosts, scaring them properly was no easy task.
...
...
Upon returning to the sect, Lu Ze immediately threw himself into the meticulous crafting of the illusionary realm.
The most distinctive gameplay feature of "Phasmophobia" was its use of technological detection results to highlight the fixed traits of each ghost type.
For instance, some ghosts would plunge their surroundings into bone-chilling cold.
Others enjoyed picking up pens to scribble in books.
Some would respond to players' conversations, while others would generate deafening noises...
Beyond these traits, each ghost also had unique characteristics.
This core gameplay was something Lu Ze decided to preserve.
What made his illusionary realms so captivating were the unique restrictions he imposed—essentially, the rules of the game.
It was the combination of these gameplay mechanics and cultivation limitations that transformed his illusionary games into a world unlike any other.
Lu Ze categorized the dozens of ghost types he had captured, mirroring the classification system of "Phasmophobia."
As for the various detection tools from the original game, he localized them into an array of magical artifacts—albeit low-tier ones.
Most of these were likely unheard of among high-ranking cultivators.
...
As the development progressed, Lu Ze grew increasingly excited about "Phasmophobia."
He realized that the Fear-Soul Resonance Array's effects within the illusionary realm were overwhelmingly potent!
Its ability to amplify and channel fear was perfectly suited for a horror-themed illusion.
Coupled with the "Formless Realm Manifestation" technique, which could materialize the intangible...
Ordinary methods could only achieve a superficial resemblance.
But with this technique, even the eerie, bone-chilling resentment of ghosts could be replicated within the illusion.
An unparalleled setting, an immersive atmosphere, and the Fear-Soul Resonance Array's manipulation of emotions...
The mere thought of Nascent Soul-stage cultivators trembling in fear, their lips quivering before ghosts, filled Lu Ze with anticipation.
...
...
A week later,
Just as Lu Ze was putting the finishing touches on his project, his master, Nangong Yuan, suddenly arrived at the Spirit Jade Pavilion accompanied by an elderly man clad in black robes.
"So this is the disciple you mentioned, the one who's suddenly taken an interest in ghosts?"
The old man, whom Nangong Yuan referred to as "Nine Nether Venerable," eyed Lu Ze skeptically.
"Indeed."
Nangong Yuan nodded, then explained to Lu Ze,
"This is Nine Nether Venerable Du Ming, a master of soul cultivation... I noticed your recent fascination with ghostly arts, so if you have any questions, feel free to seek his guidance."
Nangong Yuan elaborated further.
Not long ago, in the northern reaches of the Immortal Abyss Continent, malevolent entities had run rampant, causing a spectral calamity.
Ghosts that should have been easily vanquished had suddenly become far more troublesome.
Recently, the ghostly disaster had begun spreading outward.
To protect their disciples below the Golden Core stage from encountering these resilient spirits, the Lingxiao Sect had specially invited Nine Nether Venerable to teach methods for dealing with such sinister ghosts.
Among orthodox sects, few specialized in ghostly arts.
As a result, talents like Nine Nether Venerable were exceedingly rare—and rather arrogant.
"Ask away, and I shall answer without reservation."
Nine Nether Venerable stroked his beard, lifting his chin proudly.
"I do have one question."
Lu Ze blinked, pondering for a moment before speaking:
"Are you... afraid of ghosts?"
"Pfft—!!"
Nangong Yuan, who had been sipping tea, immediately spat it out.
"What did you say???"
Nine Nether Venerable stared at Lu Ze in disbelief, wondering if he had misheard.
The young man wore an innocent expression as he repeated, slowly and clearly:
"I said..."
"Are you afraid of ghosts?"
Nine Nether Venerable's eyebrows twitched.
Were it not for the fact that this brat was Nangong Yuan's personal disciple, he would have taught him a lesson right then and there.
He, a Soul Transformation-stage soul cultivator—
What kind of question was that?
Afraid of ghosts?
Afraid of ghosts his foot!
"Hahaha..."
Nine Nether Venerable suppressed his anger, his lips curling unnaturally.
"In all my years, I have walked side by side with ghosts. No matter how vengeful or powerful the spirit, they flee at the sight of me... What do you think?"
Lu Ze pressed further: "But what if you had no cultivation? Just an ordinary mortal?"
"Preposterous!"
Nine Nether Venerable waved his sleeve, turning away.
"Even as a mortal, I made my living hunting ghosts! How else do you think I achieved Soul Transformation through ghostly arts?"
"Ghosts? Even without cultivation, what is there to fear?"
"If a cultivator relies solely on power, neglecting the tempering of their mind, what use are they?"
Hearing this, Lu Ze quickly clapped in admiration.
"Venerable Du, your words are profound! I couldn't agree more!"
"What kind of master cultivator would one be if they were powerful but mentally fragile?"
"Coincidentally, I've crafted an illusionary realm that tests both a cultivator's mental fortitude and their strategies for handling ghosts..."
"Would Venerable Du be interested in giving it a try?"
Nine Nether Venerable scoffed at the proposal, his disdain evident.
In his field of expertise, he held an unshakable sense of superiority.
Then it struck him—this might be a perfect opportunity to leverage his pride for greater gains.
"Elder Nangong, is this how the Lingxiao Sect educates its disciples?"
Nine Nether Venerable deliberately feigned offense, frowning at Nangong Yuan.
"A mere illusionary realm, crafted by a disciple, and you expect it to challenge me?"
"If the Lingxiao Sect holds me in such low regard, why not say so outright? Must you humiliate me?"
"Absurd!"
't think I'm that capable, I'm just trying my best to stay alive. I've been kind all my life, never did anything bad, yet worldly suffering spared me not one bit. The human world is a nice place, but I won't come back in my next life. A kind young man, who wanted to just get by singing, but through repeated deceits and betrayals, has gone down an irredeemable path.
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!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
