Jin Hao sat on the floor of his small room. His old comm-tab was hot in his hands. The screen showed a quiet forum full of strange games and broken links. His room smelled like instant noodles and dusty books. A cracked window let in the sounds of the city outside.
"Still alive, huh?" he said to his comm-tab. "Barely."
Outside, Tianhai City moved like a giant machine. Floating cars zipped between sky-bridges. Their engines burned qi stones instead of fuel. Billboards flashed with glowing runes. Some whispered directly into your ears using voice talismans. Others change shape when someone looks at them, showing whatever the viewer wants most be it, power, pills, or peace.
Skyscrapers didn't just reach the sky. They were made from spirit steel and reinforced with formation lines. The buildings hummed with energy day and night. Some had meditation floors. Others had indoor arenas or gravity chambers.
One tower was owned by the Skycloud Sect. The whole thing was a giant pill furnace. It produced over ten thousand pills a day and sent smoke shaped like dragons into the clouds.
This was the world now. A mix of steel and soul. Qi and data. Ancient and modern, all living together.
People didn't ride bikes or trains anymore. They flew on spirit boards. They summoned beasts with contracts stored in jade cards.
Even the police weren't normal. They wore armor made by blacksmith sects, with array runes and talismans etched into every joint. They didn't shoot bullets. They fired attacks of different kinds of elements.
There were no countries anymore. No presidents. Just empires, clans, sects, and old cultivators who had lived for hundreds of years. The big sects controlled everything, whether it was transport, medicine, schools, or even weather in some cities. They were called corporations now, but everyone knew what they really were. Sects in suits.
People worshipped them. They watched tournaments live-streamed from flying battle stages, bought branded qi supplements, and dreamed of sending their kids to sect academies. It was the new path to power.
Even schools had changed.
In middle school, kids learned how to meditate. In high school, they picked their techniques like electives. Firewalking, ice control, sword-lightning, whatever matched their roots. Final exams weren't just written. They included spirit combat, alchemy tests, and survival trials in illusion realms.
Jin Hao had gone to one of those schools.
He hated it.
He remembered how bright the halls were. How the teachers always smiled at the top students. How they barely noticed him. He remembered the way people stared when he failed every qi sensing test. The way they whispered when he walked past.
Some laughed.
Some just looked away.
"Bet those guys are all Golden Core by now," he muttered. "And I'm still here… looking for games."
He scratched his head and leaned back against the wall. His eyes were tired. He hadn't slept much. He didn't need to. Sleep didn't help him.
He had no spirit root.
None. Zero. Nothing.
That meant no qi. No talent. No path forward.
He was five years old when they tested him. It was a big day. His family wore their best robes. The elders gathered. Even his father showed up, standing tall in his golden armor. Everyone expected something great.
He was a prince of the Jin Clan, after all. Their bloodline stretched back to the founders of the central empire. His ancestors had tamed star beasts, sealed volcanoes, and fought off alien invaders. Some of their statues still stood in capital plazas.
But when Jin Hao touched the spirit crystal, it stayed dark.
No glow. No pulse. Nothing.
The room fell silent. His father looked away. His grandmother lowered her fan. The servant who tested his talent bowed his head and said, "I'm sorry."
No one spoke after that.
He wasn't kicked out. The clan didn't want shame. They just stopped calling his name. No lessons. No teachers. No sword training. Just silence.
He faded like a shadow.
He stopped asking for attention. He passed his classes quietly. Ate lunch alone. Learned to walk softly and not bump into people.
Eventually, he left the clan house. No one followed. No one stopped him.
Now, at twenty-six, he lived alone. No job. No cultivation. Just games.
Jin Hao poked at his comm-tab again, wiping the screen with his sleeve. The cracked corner sparked a little, but it still worked. Mostly.
"Come on, gimme something cursed," he muttered. "I've already 100%'d Farm God Simulator 3: Qi Cultivator Edition."
He scrolled past a long list of low-rated games. One showed a muscular old man meditating on top of a spaceship. The title said: GRANDPA ASCENDS: Galaxy Punch Cultivation Wars.
"Eh. Already beat that one twice. Too many shirtless punch scenes. My guy just yells 'Heaven hates me, but I hate louder!' every five seconds."
He kept scrolling.
Sword Date Simulator: Love in the Blade Forge.
"No thanks. Got rejected by a spiritual sword last time. That thing told me my affinity was 'tragically low, please uninstall.'"
Next was a clickbait ad for Reincarnated as a Trash Alchemist in a World Where Trash Is Power! Complete with a talking dumpster on the cover.
"Okay, who keeps making these?" Jin Hao said. "Do people actually play this trash– wait, never mind, I played it. Twice."
He kept going.
The deeper parts of the forum were like the wild lands of the net. Glitched banners. Ancient game files. Some said, "BANNED BY HEAVEN'S PROTOCOL." Others just screamed "PLAY ME" in rainbow fonts.
Jin Hao wasn't even surprised anymore.
His finger scrolled, bored and slow.
Then he stopped.
There it was.
A small icon. No banner. No flashy title. No stars. No reviews. Just a black box with two words under it.
Immortal Sect.
That was it. No image. No version number. No description. No price.
Weird.
He tapped on the icon. Nothing popped up. No details. No download button.
"…What?"
He tilted his head. Checked the code.
It wasn't linked to any known store. Not even to the forum hosting it. It was just there. Like it had glitched into the page. Or forced its way through.
Normally, the system would've flagged something like this. Qi protocols blocked unstable files. Firewalls built by talisman masters filtered corrupted code. This thing should've never made it onto his comm-tab.
But here it was.
"Huh."
He stared at the blank icon again.
Something about it was… off. Or maybe it was just quiet. Everything else screamed for attention with big fonts and overhyped trailers. This one sat in silence.
Jin Hao smiled a little. It was the first real smile he'd had all day.
"No ads? No horny sword spirits? No screaming? You're either cursed or a miracle."
He tapped the screen.
The tab flickered.
For a second, he thought he felt a tingle in his fingers. Like static. Or maybe something brushed against his soul.
He frowned.
The screen turned black.
Then one word appeared.
Installing.
"…Huh."
There was no cancel button.
His comm-tab buzzed. A low hum built up inside the room. Somewhere in the walls, a rune light sparked. Then flickered out. His lights dimmed.
His heart skipped a beat.
He looked around. "Okay, definitely cursed. Ten outta ten."
And yet, he didn't stop it.
In fact, he leaned in.
"This is getting interesting."
The screen flickered one last time.
Then… light.
Not the cold blue of a loading bar. Not the fake shine of game graphics. Real light. Or something that looked real.
A soft wind blew through his speakers, but it felt like it came from the room. His comm-tab screen glowed brighter, then dimmed, showing a view that made Jin Hao sit up straight.
A courtyard. Stone pillars. Carved jade statues, cracked, moss-covered. A once-grand sect gate, broken in half, leaned against a ruined wall. Vines curled around ancient stone lanterns.
It was quiet.
In the middle of the courtyard, a man knelt.
Thin. Dust-covered. His robes were tattered. His long hair was tied back loosely, and his hands were bleeding from scraping the stone floor. He didn't lift his head.
Instead, he bowed again and again.
"Sorry, Ancestor," the man said, voice trembling. "I've failed you. I've failed the sect."
Jin Hao blinked.
"…What?"
This wasn't a game avatar. This wasn't a cutscene.
The man looked… alive. His face twitched. His shoulders shook with every breath. His tears made the dust under him wet.
"Ancestor… please, give me another task. I can rebuild. I swear. Just one more chance."
Jin Hao leaned closer.
The sect's name was barely visible under the dust.
"Jade Immortal Sect."
He felt cold.
He'd seen realistic games before. This wasn't that. This didn't have status bars floating over heads. There was no glowing circle to tell him where to click.
There was only the man, bowing to the ground, repeating his apology.
"Is this… a cutscene?" Jin Hao muttered. "No. This is too real."
He tried touching the screen. The view shifted smoothly like he was looking through a camera. The man didn't respond.
Then, a soft ding. A glowing tab appeared in the corner.
[Sect Management]
Jin Hao hesitated. He tapped it.
A menu slid open.
There were several options:
[Sect Members]
[Sect Rules]
[Resource Vault]
[Mission Board]
Most of them were gray. Locked.
Only "Sect Members" and "Sect Shop" were clickable.
"Alright. So… I really am the sect ancestor?" he muttered. "Weird, but okay."
He tapped "Sect Members."
One name appeared.
[Wang Jie – Outer Disciple – Mortal 9th Layer – Severely Injured]
"That's it?" Jin Hao said. "One guy?"
He stared at the name. There was a short note beside it.
Loyal. Desperate. Waiting.
"…Man. This game is emotionally aggressive."
He backed out and tapped the golden tab at the bottom of the screen.
[Sect Shop]
The screen shifted. And then his eyes went wide.
Row after row of glowing treasure appeared. Manuals, weapons, pills, artifacts, training tools. Everything a cultivator could dream of.
But on the upper corner of the screen, it said [Body Refining Realm Shop]
Still, there were thousands. Some even sparkled with rainbow text like ancient relics.
A small icon blinked in the corner.
[Contribution Points: ∞]
He froze.
"…What."
He tapped again.
[Contribution Points: ∞]
He slapped the side of his comm-tab.
"…No way."
Unlimited points. Unlimited. This wasn't just a cheat. This was divine intervention.
His fingers hovered over the first item.
Then he grinned.
"Oh yeah. Let's see what happens when a 'waste' plays god."