The bitter taste of a hundred simulated years, of mortal insignificance and violent obliteration, still lingered on Ren's tongue. But with it came a chilling clarity. His poor five-element roots were a curse, yes, but knowledge, earned through countless deaths, was his only salvation. He would bend, not break.
He rose from the mountain, the rising sun casting long, deceptive shadows. The world was still a dangerous place, but his mind, honed by an A-grade Danger Sense and a century of brutal lessons, perceived it differently. He moved through the periphery of the capital's markets, a ghost with a purpose. He avoided the central, heavily guarded areas, focusing on the hidden veins of commerce. He targeted minor rogue cultivators, not with aggression, but with calculated opportunism. He set traps designed to snag unattended spirit herbs, employed diversion tactics to slip away with discarded low-grade spirit tools. His **Instinctive Danger Sense**, though not a permanent talent in the real world, had sharpened his natural instincts to an almost supernatural degree, allowing him to perceive the faint ripples of malicious intent, the subtle shifts in air current that presaged a trap.
He knew of the maximal Qi Refinement demon that stalked the alleys of the black market, a legend whispered among the desperate. Ren meticulously mapped its known territory through observation and stolen tidbits of information, moving like water around a stone, unseen, unheard. He bypassed dangerous patrols, skirted around gang territories, his methods efficient and ruthless. His goal: resources. And he found them.
Weeks blurred into a relentless cycle of scavenging, discreet trading, and constant vigilance. He unearthed small caches of forgotten spirit stones in abandoned hovels, exchanged low-grade medicinal herbs for rough-spun clothes, and even managed to sell a few of his slightly improved talismans to desperate travelers. His diligence was terrifying, his focus absolute. The spirit stones accumulated, slowly at first, then with accelerating speed as his efficiency grew. **Fifty low-grade spirit stones.** A fortune to his past self. He kept going, driven by the hunger for more. He used his Danger Sense to identify shifting market demands, changing his identity, donning simple disguises, adopting different mannerisms for each hidden transaction. He retreated to a new, isolated mountain cave, far from the capital, a place hidden from even the keenest eyes, to count his spoils. **One hundred low-grade spirit stones.**
A triumphant, yet weary, satisfaction settled over him. *One hundred stones. Enough to push deeper.* The System shimmered before him, beckoning.
**Simulation Cost: 3 Low-Grade Spirit Stones.**
Ren felt the pull of the System. He had a new resource now. He used **40 Low-Grade Spirit Stones** to unlock a special feature:
**Rhythm of Fate Unlocked!**
**Grants a unique narrative flow in the text simulation, enhancing specific outcomes once per simulation.**
**Recharge Time: 10 Standard Days.**
*A special rhythm. To influence the narrative? A glimpse of control.* This was a new variable, a potential edge. Then, the System updated again, presenting a new array of choices.
**System Update Detected!**
**Choose Influence:**
* **[Righteous Influence]**
* **[Demonic Influence]**
**Choose Starting Identity (Affects available talents):**
* **[Pleb (F-C Grade Talents)]**
* **[Outer Sect Disciple (D-B Grade Talents)]**
* **[Manager's Illegitimate Child (C-A Grade Talents)]**
* **[Inner Sect Genius (B-S Grade Talents)]**
* **[Monarch Child (S Grade Talents)]**
**Choose Talent Type (A-Grade available for select paths, S-Grade for Monarch Child only):**
* **[Righteous Innate Talent]**
* **[Righteous Normal Talent]**
* **[Demonic Innate Talent]**
* **[Demonic Normal Talent]**
Ren's mind raced, processing the implications. So many options. He could be a genius, a monarch's child. *S-grade talents. They exist. A true peak, beyond what I can imagine.* But his experiences screamed warnings. *A brilliant talent, a high status, in a brutal world like this, for someone like me? It's a faster path to a spectacular death. I lack the backing, the true power, to wield such an identity safely.* He understood his limitations, his inherent poverty of roots and background.
His eyes fell on Demonic Influence. The last simulation's brutal end, the arbitrary cruelty of power, the indifference of the righteous sects – it had etched a new path in his mind. *Righteous or Demonic, the strong crush the weak. But Demonic cultivators… they don't hide their intent. They are cruel, but honest. Perhaps even more "kind" in their directness than the hypocritical righteous ones who smile while they scheme.* He selected **Demonic Influence**.
Then, for identity, he considered. Not a Pleb – too weak. Not a Genius or Monarch Child – too dangerous, too conspicuous for someone whose cultivation base was a mess. *An illegitimate son of an outer sect manager. Lower status, but still connected. A chance to observe from within, but without being a direct target.* He chose **Manager's Illegitimate Child**.
Finally, the talent. He scrolled through the options. Righteous talents promised purity and grand techniques, but Ren's inner cynicism was growing. He needed ruthlessness. He needed a true edge. He selected **Demonic Innate Talent**. He saw the prompt for an A-grade talent under this category. *A-grade. Again. A chance to get a true demonic edge.* He affirmed the selection.
The familiar hum vibrated through him. The mountain, the cave, all faded. The world was replaced by blocks of shimmering text. Ren felt a temporary displacement, as if his essence was poured into a waiting vessel, a small, fragile life.
---
**SIMULATION LOG: ATTEMPT 7**
**YEAR 1: A Shadowed Birth. Ren is born anew, not into a hovel, but a small, cramped room within the outer reaches of the Crimson Bone Sect, a place perpetually shrouded in dark, reddish skies. He is an illegitimate son of an outer sect manager, his presence barely tolerated, a constant reminder of a past transgression. Towering, skeletal palaces loom above the standard sect buildings, and beyond them, strange, jagged spires pierce the gloomy clouds, hinting at powers beyond comprehension. His **[A-Grade Demonic Innate Talent]** manifests early, a subtle affinity for absorbing ambient death Qi, enhancing his resilience to the sector's pervasive and brutal environment.**
**Life here is a constant struggle. Violence is not just normal; it is expected, a language understood by all. Disciples settle disputes with bloody brawls, and older, stronger cultivators casually consume their weaker peers' blood to enhance their cultivation. Ren, in this borrowed body, feels an unsettling familiarity with the ruthlessness. There is no time to rest, no time for quiet contemplation. Every moment is a test of survival, every interaction a subtle power play. He barely manages to enter the Outer Sect, training himself to **Qi Refinement Stage 6** by the age of 10, a decent pace for this environment, but still far from attracting true attention from the inner sanctums.**
**YEAR 15: The Junior Sister's Shadow and The Forbidden Path. Ren encounters a beautiful junior sister, born with a rare physique, her talent far surpassing his own. He sees her meteoric rise, from Outer Disciple to Inner Disciple, then to personal student of a Golden Core Elder, all within a few short years. Her progress is effortless, his own a painful crawl. He watches as she masters techniques that would take him decades, if ever. The constant violence in the sect dulls his sense of morality. He learns to kill, to absorb discarded blood Qi for minor boosts, to endure pain, even to inflict it without hesitation. He observes the sect's core principles: power is truth, and weakness is a crime.**
**YEAR 25: The Guard's Grind. Through sheer tenacity and a willingness to perform unpleasant tasks no one else desires, Ren secures a position as a low-ranking guard in one of the sect's chaotic resource markets. His Qi Refinement Stage 6 cultivation is barely enough, but the sect's backing, however minimal, offers a thin layer of protection. He endures constant threats, petty insults from higher-ranked cultivators, and the casual cruelty that pervades all interactions. He relentlessly seeks out techniques for physical strength and body tempering, trying to compensate for his poor spiritual talent, realizing that a strong body might bridge the gap. He also learns to identify rare demonic herbs and materials within the market's illicit trades.**
**YEAR 40: The Young Master's Whim and The Heaven-Devouring Technique. Ren's cultivation, despite his desperate efforts, stagnates at **Qi Refinement Stage 9**. He tries desperately to break into Foundation Establishment, but his poor roots are an insurmountable wall without immense resources. One day, a volatile **Young Master (Foundation Establishment Intermediate Realm)**, a relative of an Inner Sect Elder, takes an interest in the junior sister Ren once admired. When Ren, performing his duties as a guard, attempts to uphold a minor market rule that inconveniences the Young Master, he is summarily dismissed. "You are useless, a talentless brute," the Young Master sneers, his cultivation crushing Ren with invisible pressure. Ren cannot refuse, for the Young Master's master is a powerful Golden Core Elder. Before being cast out, Ren is forced to learn a forbidden, extremely malevolent, and unproductive technique: the **Heaven-Devouring Technique**. It promises minor increases in power by consuming souls and feeding on chaotic, negative thoughts, but at the cost of one's own vitality and sanity, destined to awaken a demonic embryo within. Ren, confused by this senseless cruelty, clings to his guard post, enduring the dark thoughts, trying to protect the market from the very chaos that churns within him.**
**YEAR 60: The Price of Exposure. Decades pass. Ren continues as a market guard, his body hardened, his mind twisted by the Heaven-Devouring Technique, which slowly eats at his soul. He has endured countless casual beatings, witnessed innumerable murders, and absorbed fragmented memories from consumed souls, never truly advancing, merely surviving. He is always on edge, always observing. His physical cultivation has reached its peak, his skin like hardened leather, his muscles like steel, but his spiritual Qi remains stuck at Qi Refinement 9. He becomes an unmoving, silent fixture of the market, a testament to raw endurance.**
**YEAR 89: The False Soul's Indifference. One day, a sudden, suffocating pressure descends upon the market. Not a Golden Core's anger, but something far more vast, more ancient, a power that crushes the very air. A figure shrouded in chilling mist, clearly a **False Nascent Soul** existence, strolls through the market. He is angered by a mere glance, a slight obstruction from another, higher-ranked demonic disciple. Without a word, he lashes out. The market explodes. Buildings are vaporized. Ren, who has seen countless deaths, countless arbitrary acts of violence, feels an unprecedented despair. This power… it is absolute. He cannot move. He cannot breathe. He sees the despair in the eyes of his fellow guards, the casual amusement of the False Nascent Soul as the weaker cultivators are annihilated. Ren is caught in the initial blast, his body atomized instantly, the very air screaming around him.**
**"How could I have refused that young master?" Ren's dying thought echoes. "He was Foundation Establishment Intermediate, and his master was a Golden Core. I was a Qi Refinement nine. I had no choice. I never had a choice. Only power. My own true power matters."**
**The sect elders arrive, not to punish the False Nascent Soul, but to apologize profusely for the 'disruption,' bowing low to a force they cannot offend. Ren, a mere guard, a discarded pawn, is forgotten, his existence erased in the casual display of power.**
**SIMULATION ENDED.**
**YEARS LIVED: 90 YEARS.**
**SURVIVAL POINTS GAINED: 2000 (For extreme longevity in a brutal environment, enduring torment, and profound insights into power dynamics).**
**ACHIEVEMENTS: Demonic Survivor (Extreme). Market Guardian (Failed Endurance). Forbidden Technique Survivor. Power Dynamic Observer (Advanced). Physical Cultivator (Peak).**
**NEGATIVES: Cultivation Stagnation. Soul Corruption. Died to Uncontested Power. Failed to Ascend.**
**SIMULATION EXPERIENCE EXTRACTION AVAILABLE. Cost: 200 Survival Points.**
**TALENT EXTRACTION AVAILABLE: [A-Grade Demonic Innate Talent]. Cost: 100 Survival Points.**
**WARNING! Access to information regarding reincarnation techniques, powerful lineages, karmic secrets, or reincarnating as powerful figures (S-Grade Identities) is not possible due to insufficient cultivation and System limitations.**
**HOST CULTIVATION MUST REACH MINIMUM PEAK NASCENT SOUL REALM TO ATTEMPT FIRST TIER OF ADVANCED SIMULATION FUNCTIONS.**
---
Ren gasped, bolting upright in his mountain cave, a primal scream caught in his throat. His entire body felt like it had been shredded by invisible blades. Ninety years. Ninety years of constant struggle, of enduring the casual brutality, of pushing his physical body to its absolute limits while his cultivation stagnated, a constant, agonizing reminder of his poor roots. He had watched others soar, he had been forced to embrace a technique that corrupted his very soul, and he had died, utterly powerless, before a being that merely *simulated* Nascent Soul power. He was laughing, a harsh, ragged sound that ended in a bitter, cynical cry.
He accessed the System. 2000 Survival Points. A staggering amount. He quickly spent **200 Survival Points for the full simulation experience**, allowing the ninety years of raw, brutal wisdom to flood his mind, etching themselves into his very being. Then, his finger trembling, he spent **100 Survival Points to extract the [A-Grade Demonic Innate Talent]**. A true A-grade, permanently his. A cold, alien energy settled deep in his core, a subtle affinity for death Qi, for enduring and subtly benefiting from malevolence.
The System's final warning resonated in his mind, not as text, but as a chilling, profound realization:
*Access to the true 'text of time,' the secrets of karma, the knowledge of powerful lineages, or the ability to reincarnate into S-grade identities... it's all locked. Requires **minimum Peak Nascent Soul Realm.** *
Ren froze. Nascent Soul. A legend. He only knew Golden Cores as the absolute masters of sects, beings of terrifying power. And the System was telling him he needed to reach *Peak Nascent Soul* just to *begin* to access the real, deeper functions? The true power it held? His breath hitched. *Peak Nascent Soul. Those old monsters, hidden from the world, rarely seen. They exist. And the System knows them. It speaks of power beyond my wildest nightmares.*
A shiver ran down his spine, a cold dread that quickly solidified into an unyielding resolve. His previous ambition, to simply "rise," now seemed laughably small. He had to hide. He had to cultivate in secret. He had to gather power without ever exposing himself, not until he could truly stand against the "old monsters" who casually annihilated entire markets. He had seen the truth of this world. Righteous or Demonic, they cared nothing for the weak. He would not be weak. He would not expose himself before he could truly contend. He would become an entity that transcended their petty squabbles, a true force to be reckoned with.
Now, armed with an A-grade Demonic Talent and a terrifying understanding of true power, how does Ren's real-world strategy for cultivation and advancement fundamentally shift, moving beyond mere survival to a calculated, long-term plan for dominance, while still maintaining his secrecy?