Fairhaven, Harper Family Dungeon.
Simon Harper slowly woke, his body aching unbearably.
"Ugh! Why does it hurt so much? What's going on?"
Simon opened his eyes, gasping, his mind reeling with confusion. He couldn't fathom why his healthy body was in such pain.
The sight before him froze him in place.
He was in a cramped, dim cell, with no signs of torture devices on his body.
Through the cell's bars, he saw rows of oil lamps flickering on the walls, casting light over the damp, dark dungeon.
Looking down, Simon noticed the floor was paved with rough stone tiles, stained with dirt and blood.
He lay on a rickety wooden cot, dressed in tattered, old-fashioned clothes.
Bruises marred his body, as if he'd been beaten harshly.
"What is this place?"
Simon was stunned.
He remembered going to bed after work; how did he end up here?
"Have I… transmigrated?"
Simon noticed his skin looked younger, and despite the pain, his body buzzed with vitality.
Suddenly, he grunted, clutching his head as sharp pain surged through him, his brows furrowing.
Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Memories flooded his mind.
After a long moment, Simon exhaled, his expression dazed.
"So I really have transmigrated…"
The realization left him speechless.
In his past life, he was an ordinary man; how had he ended up here?
"Luckily, my parents passed away young in my old life, and I had no family to leave behind."
"But I didn't expect this world to have supernatural powers."
From the memories, Simon learned he'd transmigrated to an ancient world unlike his own, one where martial arts granted extraordinary abilities.
Martial artists could split mountains, divert rivers, move like shadows, and challenge entire armies.
Simon was a novice martial artist, only recently beginning his training.
"The original Simon Harper shared my name. His mother died two years ago, and he had no siblings. His father betrayed the Harper family, so the Patriarch locked him in this dungeon to lure his father back."
Realizing this, Simon's heart sank.
What a cruel twist—had he transmigrated just to die?
From his memories, he knew that since his mother's death, his father, Thomas Harper, had changed. He became moody, volatile, even ruthless.
Thomas had betrayed the family, and Simon doubted he'd risk returning to save him.
With his father's current disposition, Simon had little hope.
"Ding! Mystic Simulator activated!"
As despair crept in, a mechanical voice echoed in his mind.
A semi-transparent panel appeared before him.
Streams of information flooded his consciousness.
Seeing the panel and the new knowledge, Simon's heart raced with excitement.
"The Mystic Simulator lets my consciousness enter a simulated world, live a new life, start a fresh story, and experience countless possibilities."
"Even if I die in the simulation, there's no penalty—it just ends that story, and a new simulation begins."
"Best of all, anything I gain in the simulation can potentially be brought back to reality!"
"Points…"
Simon's heart stirred, and the panel shifted, revealing a new interface with numbers.
"Simulator Points: Ten."
"Ten points, enough to open a world and start a new life."
Simon murmured.
"If I can grow stronger in the simulation and bring that power back, I can escape this predicament."
His eyes gleamed.
Just as Simon prepared to activate the Mystic Simulator, the dungeon door creaked open.
He turned and saw a worried young woman approaching.
At his cell door, Clara Harper, eyes red, looked at him. "Simon, hang on. I'm pleading with my father. I believe you'll be free soon."
Simon shook his head slowly.
He recognized her.
Clara Harper, the Patriarch's youngest daughter, was his age. They'd grown up together, sharing a close bond.
But Simon doubted she could free him.
Thomas's betrayal was no small matter, and the Patriarch's actions suggested a serious offense.
Simon didn't know why his father betrayed the family, but he knew Clara's pleas wouldn't resolve it.
"She can't see the simulator panel."
Noticing Clara's obliviousness to the interface, Simon spoke coolly, "Thank you, but the Patriarch has decreed that if my father doesn't return by the fifteenth of next month, I'll be executed."
"Clara, you should go."
He closed his eyes.
Simon didn't want to say more. As a transmigrator, he wasn't the original Simon and feared revealing differences.
Seeing his reaction, Clara bit her lip, pulled a book from her cloak, slid it through the cell's small window, and left.
As her footsteps faded, Simon opened his eyes and saw the book on the floor.
Curious, he picked it up and read the cover.
"Blood Surge Technique?"
Simon paused, then opened the book and read.
After a moment, he exhaled. "She's thoughtful…"
The Blood Surge Technique stimulated key points in the body to unleash thirty to forty percent more strength.
However, it damaged the body, draining vital energy and harming one's martial foundation unless mastered fully.
"Even with this, I can't escape this dungeon with my current strength."
Simon understood Clara's intent—she wanted him to break free.
"I'll rely on the Mystic Simulator."
His eyes flashed, and he activated the simulator.
"Ten points to open a world—let's do it!"
With a thought, Simon selected the Mystic Simulator.
As Simon's thought activated, the simulator interface shifted.
His ten points vanished, reduced to zero.
"Searching simulator world… Search complete."
"World initializing."
"Martial Realm initialized."
Prompts flashed, and the interface displayed new options.
"Please select your origin."
"Commoner: Born into a poor family, your life is filled with hardship. Requires 0–100 points."
"Noble Family: Born into wealth, with a privileged background. Requires 100–10,000 points."
"Martial Clan: Born to martial artists, with exceptional talent. Requires 2,000–50,000 points."
Simon understood he was choosing his simulated identity.
The information explained that point costs varied due to differences within each category.
"With zero points, I can only pick Commoner."
After initializing the Martial Realm, Simon's points were gone, limiting him to the Commoner origin.
He selected it, and new options appeared—talents, equipment, even powerful abilities.
With no points, Simon skipped them, finalizing his choices.
"This simulation lasts ten years, starting at age eighteen. Changing this requires points."
"There's a five-day cooldown in the real world before I can simulate again."
Simon pondered the interface's details.
He didn't know if the Martial Realm could help him escape the Harper dungeon.
"I hope I can master the Harper family's Serpent Coil Technique and Clara's Blood Surge Technique in these ten years."
Simon had absorbed the original Simon's memories, including the family's martial arts.
His transmigrated mind was sharp, nearly photographic. He'd memorized the Blood Surge Technique after one read.
Taking a deep breath, Simon activated the simulator.
"Selection complete, simulation starting…"
A black hole appeared, its suction pulling Simon in. His vision darkened, and he lost consciousness.
A disorienting sensation hit, and Simon awoke.
"Cough, cough!"
He opened his eyes to coughing sounds from a crowd.
Hundreds of ragged people rested at a forest's edge, near a mountain.
Simon was among them, a commoner.
A faint memory surfaced, revealing his simulated identity.
"This body is Lucas Reed, born to a poor family. Both parents died early. Fleeing war, he joined others to find a safer land."
Simon scanned the crowd—refugees, gaunt and ragged, some coughing from illness.
Frowning, he thought, "I need to leave. A plague here could end this simulation."
Feeling his weak body, Simon stood, confident in his Harper family techniques and the Blood Surge Technique.
This world had only martial artists and ordinary beasts, no monsters.
"Wild beasts won't be a problem."
With the Harper family's martial knowledge, Simon wasn't worried.
"Lucas Reed, hold it!"
A shout came from behind.
Simon turned to see a tall man, less gaunt than others, approaching.
"What?" Simon frowned.
"I'm hungry. I know you've got food. Hand it over!" The man sneered.
Others glanced over.
Simon's frown deepened. This man, a bully with a dagger, was notorious among the refugees.
Since transmigrating, Simon had been caged, facing death daily. His patience was thin.
"You're asking for trouble," Simon said coldly.
Before the man could react, Simon inhaled, activated the Blood Surge Technique, and struck the man's chest with two fingers.
"Argh!"
The man clutched his chest, face red, collapsing as blood trickled from his mouth and nose.
The refugees fell silent, staring at Simon.
He looked at the dead man coldly, took his dagger, and walked away.
Simon knew the body's anatomy and martial arts well. Killing the bully was easy.
He felt no guilt—this was justice.
"I need a place to live and train the Blood Surge Technique and Serpent Coil to reach the Inner Breath Realm."
Dagger in hand, Simon headed deeper into the mountains.