Chapter Six: The Gathering Dark Clouds

The disadvantages of low aptitude revealed themselves in full. Lin Ze rolled his eyes, suddenly curious about what he himself would have done in this situation.

This character was a complete simulation of his own personality, with the only difference being that the other party was unaware of the existence of the Cultivation Simulator.

The middle-aged Daoist opened his eyes, pondered for a long time, then picked up the Foundation-Building Pill at his side and swallowed it.

Lin Ze was stunned for a moment before suddenly realizing: the man actually wanted to use the Foundation-Building Pill to experience what spiritual energy felt like.

There was not the slightest hesitation, as if the pill was not a precious elixir but merely a candy bean.

Without the Simulator, he was so decisive it was almost terrifying.

As the Foundation-Building Pill digested in his stomach, misty spiritual energy flooded into his dantian, and a trace of enlightenment appeared on the Daoist’s thin, pale face.

He began practicing the Dongyue Breathing Technique again.

A faint white mist now issued from his nose and mouth. Once more, he took up a Foundation-Building Pill and popped it into his mouth.

Lin Ze could already feel a bursting fullness within, as if his body was about to explode.

Unfortunately, he had no way to stop this body.

Moments later, a fierce glint flashed in the Daoist’s eyes. He shoved all the remaining pills into his mouth, crunching them with a snap.

Veins bulged on his forehead.

Scalding beads of sweat slid down his face.

His teeth clenched, bloodshot veins crawling across his eyes.

Just as Lin Ze wondered if this simulation was about to end, a loud bang sounded. The Daoist exhaled a thick, foul breath.

Within his body, a foundation of Dao appeared.

"Did he actually succeed in breaking through like this?" Lin Ze was slightly astonished. Though the character was based on himself, he couldn't fathom why the man acted with such desperation. Six Foundation-Building Pills lay at his side; these things didn’t spoil, so he could have taken his time. Why take such a risk?

Or perhaps there was something urgent the man needed to do, requiring foundation-building cultivation at once?

At that moment, the Daoist slowly rose and stepped outside.

Day had broken. Two graceful figures were conversing outside. When they saw the Daoist emerge, Zhao Ling wore her usual look of scorn, while Su Bailu turned and greeted him with utmost respect.

He nodded, striding quickly past the two.

Just then, Lin Ze sensed a murderous intent sweep through the character’s mind, startling him. Instinctively, he shouted in protest, "Stop right there!"

But this was inside the Simulator; he could only observe, unable to change anything.

In the next instant, the middle-aged Daoist suddenly struck, pressing a palm to Zhao Ling’s back.

His technique was far from refined—this was simply overwhelming force by virtue of his new cultivation.

Foundation-building spiritual power surged forth. The woman, completely unprepared, was struck with such force that her back shattered under his palm.

Zhao Ling died on the spot with a shrill scream, not even given a chance to resist.

"Master!" Su Bailu stood frozen in shock, her usual icy composure gone.

The Daoist bent down and tore the storage pouch from Zhao Ling’s waist, casually picking up the sword that had fallen to the ground and resting its blade on Su Bailu’s neck.

A flicker of hesitation flashed in his eyes and brows.

After a long silence, he finally spoke: "Keep this secret for me, and I’ll spare your life."

Su Bailu trembled all over, her expression shifting wildly.

The Daoist sighed. "Forget it. I can’t trust you."

The three-foot sword flashed, a cold gleam followed by a splash of vivid red. Another storage pouch appeared in his hand.

He gazed in silence at the two corpses on the ground; fury rose in Lin Ze’s heart, and he longed to curse aloud. After a moment, though, he only switched perspectives with a hint of defeat.

Standing atop the clouds, gazing toward Xiao Family Village, his breath came quick and shallow, and he felt as if someone had torn the mask from his face.

To kill for treasure, and to do it to one’s own disciples left behind by a previous incarnation—what was the difference from a beast?

That was the cause of his anger. The sense of defeat that followed came from suddenly recalling the original for the middle-aged Daoist. Whether he liked it or not, the man was modeled on his own personality.

Of course, Lin Ze believed he would never do such a thing for technique manuals.

But that was because he had the Cultivation Simulator, the legendary Xiao Bao character card as his foundation, and two lower-grade cultivation methods to choose from.

Without all these, the character card was merely a low-tier rogue cultivator, a soul in his twenties inhabiting the body of a sixty-year-old man, with only ten years left to live at best—his mindset would inevitably change.

Youth gone, the body frail and weak.

He possessed nothing but a breathing technique, not even a half-usable Daoist art.

For three months, he had endured pain in that village, pinning all his hopes on four disciples, wishing they could take him away, only to hear the villagers’ mocking whispers at his birthday feast.

Now, finally, he had the chance to leave these demon-haunted mountains; naturally, he would grasp every resource possible to ensure his own safety.

And there was something even more important: the letter from Dongyue Sect.

Were it not for that letter, the Daoist could have chosen to return to the sect with Su Bailu—no need for such extreme action.

Lin Ze laughed at himself. This coward, on learning of an enemy’s existence, had scrambled for a breakthrough out of sheer panic. For someone this cautious, how could he let them return and reveal his presence?

Risking everything on a breakthrough, only to kill and silence witnesses, then fleeing with the loot—ruthless to himself, and even more ruthless to others.

Selfish, devoid of humanity!

Clenching his fists, Lin Ze was startled to realize he actually harbored murderous intent toward a character modeled on himself.

With a sigh, he relaxed his hands.

He no longer wished to return to the previous perspective, preferring to watch coldly from the heights of the clouds to see how far the other could go.

The Daoist returned to the thatched hut, silently gazing at the sleeping Xiao Bao.

After a long contemplation, he opened the storage pouch, took out a silver ingot, and placed it by the boy’s side. A faintly bitter smile played at his lips.

He did not linger, but turned and left, making for the demon mountains.

"Without the Simulator, Xiao Bao loses his value as well?" Lin Ze frowned.

It seemed the man planned to find a hidden place to focus on practicing the newly acquired techniques, so he only scouted around the mountain’s periphery, not daring to venture deeper.

Suddenly, a roar echoed in Lin Ze’s ears, and he turned his head in astonishment.

In the depths of the mountains, layer upon layer of clouds parted as if by some invisible hand. A crimson figure, stepping on black clouds, surged toward Xiao Family Village in a fury.

The middle-aged Daoist also noticed the change in the mountains; his face paled. He turned to flee, but was millions of times slower than the approaching threat.

At last the source of the sound revealed itself: a ferocious two-headed hellhound, not large in size, but exuding an overwhelming, terrifying aura.

Black clouds swept past overhead.

The Daoist’s body vanished in an instant, as if vaporized by intense heat.

The two-headed hellhound swept a fierce glance over the village, as if searching for something, then turned and soared away in another direction.

[Simulation Ended]

[No reward for host card]

Lin Ze opened his eyes and swallowed hard.

Riding clouds and mist was a power only a cultivator at the Golden Core stage could possess.

This was his shortest simulation yet, ending before a day had even passed.

Recalling the terrifying appearance of that hellhound, Lin Ze felt not only shock but also confusion.

How could this be? He didn’t like the Daoist in the Simulator, but the man’s death was far too bizarre.

Why could Zhao Ling and Su Bailu return safely to the sect, while he suffered disaster the moment he entered the demon mountains?

"Wait."

He frowned, reopened the Simulator, and added Su Bailu’s character card.

Without hesitation, he used up another precious simulation attempt, though this one had nothing to do with the Foundation-Building Pill.

After a while, Lin Ze’s face darkened.

Something was wrong.

The simulation’s events had once again changed from before.

Yet the outcome was equally horrifying.

The black cloud swept past, and the two women vanished instantly—none survived.

"It’s not a problem with the character card," Lin Ze muttered.

The last time he’d simulated Su Bailu was two hours ago, which meant that something must have happened in the intervening time to provoke the wrath of that Golden Core demon.

Thoughts tangled in his mind.

Facing such a powerful being, worrying further was pointless; for now, he simply shouldn’t enter the demon mountains.

The great demon was clearly searching for something, but since it wasn’t in Xiao Family Village, it had only glanced down before leaving.

As long as he stayed quietly in the village, he could avoid this calamity.

Lin Ze sat on his bed in silence for a long while, then slowly took a Foundation-Building Pill and swallowed it.

No matter what, increasing his own strength was never wrong.

Whether for his own safety, or to preserve that precious shred of humanity.

Unless one was born innately virtuous, the compassion of ordinary people was usually founded on their own power.

Lin Ze had never aspired to be a great philanthropist, but at the very least, he wanted to remain human. For that, he was willing to work harder.