Last time, his transformation had happened in a sudden flash. This time, the process was much slower—like a worm breaking free of its cocoon, unfolding into wings. From the Sixth Turn of the Nine Yin Refinement of Form, Li Qingyun's mortal shell was undergoing an astonishing evolution, a transformation shaking his very essence.
He quickly calmed himself and settled into meditation, silently reciting the Nine Yin Scripture – Refinement of Form while recalling the mountain-sized, awe-inspiring figure of the true Candle Nine Yin he had once glimpsed. He used that memory to guide the metamorphosis, preventing it from slipping out of control and devolving into a grotesque mess of tumors and tangled flesh.
Fortunately, he managed to hold steady. Have you ever seen a snake shed its skin? That was roughly his state now. His head remained human, but from the neck down, his body elongated into serpentine form—the Candle Dragon body slowly taking shape, emerging from the husk of human skin.
The sensation of crawling on the ground without legs, relying only on the strength of his spine and waist, was oddly novel. But since the Nine Yin Divine Art was literally built on "weasel flips and serpent coils," his new serpentine spine flexed even more smoothly. After a little practice, he could slither easily, weaving around the beams of Shangzhen Monastery without hindrance.
But he'd already explored the monastery inside and out—nothing new to see. So Li Qingyun slithered down to the beach. Seeing the carpet of shattered fish and torn flesh left from the earlier battle, hunger gnawed at his belly. He swallowed a few fish heads—tasty enough—and then, without restraint, devoured the rest. Soon he was gliding into the waters of the Void Star Sea, releasing bursts of True Dragon Break to smash nearby sea monsters and devouring their flesh.
Truly, this world was a cultivation paradise. Not only the monastery's spiritual elixirs, but even these bizarre sea beasts and their ink-black waters nourished his path. The scattered qi from the thunder tribulation was quickly replenished; his energy and blood surged upward with explosive vigor. Compared to his body back in 0791, the difference was heaven and earth.
The sea around Shangzhen Monastery was already deep ocean. The further from shore, the larger the beasts grew. Li Qingyun didn't venture too far—after eating his fill and playing for a while, he returned to the island.
After all… he still hadn't finished scrubbing the alchemy furnace.
By now, the Nine Yin Divine Art wasn't complete, but Nine Yin Refinement of Form had reached the Sixth Turn. That meant he could finally begin practicing the Nine Yin Grand Arts.
He wasn't a walking encyclopedia yet, but after reading so many texts at the monastery, he knew: the Grand Arts meant Daoist spells and escape techniques.
The talismans and incantations taught by Master Xian, the South Bright Heavenly Fire Great Extermination Method, and the famed Thirty-Six Heavenly Arts or Seventy-Two Earthly Arts from classical xianxia lore—all of these fell under "Grand Arts."
Put simply: Divine Arts were inner and outer martial skills—physical techniques. Grand Arts were spells—things that burned mana and required casting time.
But just because a spell was written didn't mean anyone could use it. Some people grasped thunder magic instantly; others could never manage it, no matter how many manuals they memorized. Without affinity, spells simply failed.
Luckily, Li Qingyun's aptitude wasn't bad. He skimmed the Nine Yin Grand Arts, and the very first spell—he read it once, thought about it once, recited it once—and he could already perform it.
Transforming his body, he shed the Candle Dragon form and reshaped himself as a broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted youth with a cropped haircut—the form of Li Pan.
Yes. The first spell was called "Embryonic Transformation, Return of the Nascent Infant."
In other words: Shapeshift into human form.
He couldn't take just any shape—only his own. And only after surviving the thunder tribulation and forming his Nascent Infant. But fat or thin, young or old, any natural stage of Li Pan's human form could be chosen.
He tested his body. Compared the meridians and cultivation between the Li Pan of this world and the Li Qingyun here.
Yes—the difference was massive. His combat power had increased… let's just say like learning Kaio-ken for the first time.
But comparisons were meaningless. Different worlds had different rules, different bonuses, different tools.
So he sighed and shifted back into his Daoist child's form, flipping open the Grand Arts once again.
The Nine Yin Grand Arts were quite comprehensive. Beyond innate racial abilities like cloud-surfing, river-turning, or mountain-quaking, there were also refined techniques: divination, illusion, elemental control, even bizarre arts like fortune-telling, hypnosis, poisoncraft, and spirit possession.
And one spell stood out: "The Great Escape of Time and Space."
Skimming its contents, Li Qingyun froze. The spell claimed that after the Ninth Turn of Refinement, when fully transformed into Candle Dragon form, he could ignite his speed into faster-than-light travel—slip through spacetime, traversing the multiverse.
FTL. Flesh-and-blood faster-than-light travel.
Was this really cultivation? It read like a starship manual! With detailed instructions on warp-field modeling, spacefold mechanics, and superluminal trajectories.
At first, he thought it was bluster. But the calculations… they were precise. The prerequisites were clearly stated: body at Ninth Turn, Divine Art perfected, Grand Arts mastery, light-escape techniques already at a quarter the speed of light. Only then could the Great Escape be triggered, accelerating beyond Warp 10… toward "the Gate."
Warp 10. The Gate.
Surely that meant the Gate—the portal between parallel worlds, the wormhole accelerator, the quantum door across multiverse planes.
Could Grand Dao immortals really cross into other universes in the flesh? Could they… enter his cyberpunk world?
If that spell was real… then compared to such power, 0791's Earthlings were ants.
The revelation left him reeling.
When he regained awareness, he was Li Pan again, back in 0791. Yet it felt like he hadn't awakened at all. Dream within a dream, illusion within illusion.
He stood within the Greenfield Manor gardens. Cherry blossoms in full bloom—red like blood, pink like lips, brilliant as sunset clouds. But it wasn't the blossoms that stunned—it was the trees.
Each tree trunk resembled a woman's body; the branches were her arms and legs; the roots underground were intestines, tangled guts, writhing beneath the earth, spreading through the entire estate.
The cherry-maidens smiled and beckoned to him, a spectacle of terrifying beauty. But Li Pan felt nothing. He'd seen too many horrors to be moved.
The Great Escape of Time and Space… warp engines… Was any of it real?
He walked through the forest of women-trees, lost in thought. Until he heard muffled cries.
There, bound to the largest cherry tree, he saw them: Shiranui Kiri and Kotaro.
Kiri had been defeated, her body stripped, suspended, pierced through by roots that burrowed into her flesh, slowly transforming her into another cherry-blossom maiden.
Kotaro's fate was stranger: exposed as not truly a maiden, he was bound and ravaged by massive roots that siphoned away his sealed demon power.
The battlefield bore scars of struggle, shattered cherry-trees—but both had lost, ensnared as offerings.
Li Pan darted forward, weaving past lashing roots. One palm seized a vine trying to strangle him. A surge of True Dragon Break ripped through it, shattering it to pieces.
But the forest writhed—roots like serpents, blossoms screaming.
He realized brute force would never suffice. So he drew upon his hidden trump.
Handkerchief and Key. Masked Rider transformation.
The suited warrior stood tall, while time itself seemed to crawl. Roots slowed, dragons of wood faltered. Through the warped spacetime, he walked leisurely, hands in pockets, across the raging storm of blossoms and serpents.
At the heart, the matriarch tree—an enormous, grotesque cherry-oak woman. He tore open her belly and found it: a dagger, a short sword.
A gilded wakizashi. Its blade wept black miasma, saturated with resentful spirits.
As he drew it free, fire blossomed. The tree screamed. The entire cherry grove erupted, blossoms shriveling into flames. The nightmare was burning away.
Li Pan glanced at Kotaro—wide awake now, staring at the blade.
"So. This is what you were after?"
For a heartbeat, Li Pan glimpsed his reflection in Kotaro's strange eyes—double pupils, twin visions.
Then the dream collapsed.
He awoke in his guest room at Greenfield Manor. Outside, the cherry trees were withering, dying, rotting to dust.
Gripping his knight's sword, he marched into the forest.
There—beneath a tree's roots—he smelled herbs. He slashed down, exposing an earthen jar sealed with talismans.
Inside: Shiranui Kiri. Transformed into a partial human renzhe, mutilated but still alive, floating in alchemical fluid.
"She's mine. Deliver her to the company. Thanks."
Kotaro, however, was gone. As was the wakizashi. And the true culprit had vanished without trace.
.
.
.
⚠️ 30 CHAPTERS AHEAD — I'm Not a Cyberpsycho ⚠️
The system says: Kill.Mercs obey. Corporates obey. Monsters obey.One man didn't.
🧠💀 "I'm not a cyberpsycho. I just think... differently."
💥 High-voltage cyberpunk. Urban warfare. AI paranoia.Read 30 chapters ahead, only on Patreon.
🔗 patreon.com/DrManhattanEN