According to the memories he had inherited, this place was a corroded zone—an area struck by the blinding radiance of God's power. Wherever that light fell, life was erased. Humans, animals, even plants either perished or twisted into grotesque abominations.
And above it all, looming in the heavens, was the massive hand. A hand so vast it seemed to cradle the sky itself. It had appeared thousands of years ago, visible to every living creature. With it came bizarre existences—creatures born of a perverse law, thriving on chaos and corruption. The world of cultivation had never recovered. Human experts who once ruled mountains and seas fled with what people they could save, abandoning vast regions to God's twisted might.
Months ago, God's power had struck this very city. Families, friends, beasts, every trace of life was scoured away or mutated into horrors. Everyone died. Everyone but the boy whose body Grey now inhabited.
He didn't know how the previous Grey had survived. Perhaps it was luck, perhaps something else. But in a world like this, survival wasn't a blessing—it was a curse. The bizarre existences prowling these zones were beyond his ability to contend with. Even mutated beasts were too much, let alone the true monsters.
The boy had reached the second level of Qi Accumulation, barely a flicker of strength. Not nearly enough to survive here. And so, inevitably, he had been killed.
Now Grey limped forward, the purple crystal clutched tightly in his hand. His broken leg throbbed with every step, yet he forced himself onward. In his memories lurked the knowledge that a mutated beast of the seventh level resided within the nearby blood lake. Worse still, the sky was dimming. When true night came, the bizarre existences would emerge in force. If they caught him out in the open, he would die a second time.
His breath came ragged, his body screaming for rest, but Grey pressed on. The forest grew thicker around him, green and lush in grotesque contrast to the ruined buildings and crimson sky. Shadows stretched long, curling like claws across the broken earth. Even harmless patches of grass or pools of water forced him to take long detours. In the corroded zones, safety was always a lie.
At last, as twilight deepened, he stumbled across the shattered remains of a building. Three walls still stood, enough to form a shelter. He dragged himself inside and collapsed against the cold stone. A jolt of pain turned his vision white. Sweat drenched his forehead as he fought to stay conscious.
Grimacing, he gathered scraps of debris and blocked the door as best he could. Only then did he allow his aching body to ease against the wall.
'What kind of world did I transmigrate into…?'
As the final light faded, the world outside came alive. Groans. Growls. The shrill cries of twisted beasts echoed through the ruins. Grey's heart pounded in his chest. His hands shook, but he forced himself to stay calm. Fear wouldn't help him. What mattered was his body—broken, bleeding, useless. If he couldn't walk by dawn, he wouldn't live long enough to starve. Something else would kill him first.
He uncorked his water bottle, drinking in small gulps until his thirst eased. Then he straightened his leg, biting down on his lip so hard that blood filled his mouth. The bone had to realign. The pain was worse than fire, and every second stretched into eternity. By the time he wrapped the filthy bandages he'd found, his shirt was soaked through with sweat. His face was pale as bone.
At last, he slumped back, panting.
"Now… I can study this crystal."
He lifted the purple stone, turning it under the flickering moonlight that slipped through the cracks. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary crystal, smooth and clear, its glow faint. Yet as he pressed it against his chest, the light flared.
A strange warmth spread through his body. The ache in his leg eased. The pounding in his head dulled. He blinked, stunned.
"So… it heals me only when I touch it."
His eyes darkened. In a world this cruel, something like this would be priceless. A treasure people would kill for.
'If someone sees it, they'll rip it from me without hesitation. I'll have to hide it.'
Grey's gaze drifted to the half-healed gash across his chest. His jaw tightened. Before he could think about it a second time, he pressed the crystal to the wound and pushed.
Agony exploded through him. Every nerve screamed. He clamped both hands over his mouth to muffle the sound, biting down until the copper taste of blood filled his tongue. Tears blurred his vision as inch by inch, the crystal sank into his flesh.
When it was done, he collapsed, trembling violently. His chest burned, but the crystal's glow did not fade. It pulsed within him, and before his eyes, the wound slowly sealed shut. His broken bones aligned. The cuts across his body knitted closed. Even the deep gash on the back of his skull started to heal and vanish.
Fifteen minutes later, Grey lay on the cold floor, whole. Not a scar remained. His breathing slowed. Exhaustion claimed him, and despite the sounds of monsters prowling outside, he fell into deep sleep.
***
Grey awoke with a start, half-expecting to see his old room. But the smell of dust and blood reminded him.
'Ah… I transmigrated.'
He sat up slowly, astonished. His body felt light. There was no pain, no weakness. The crystal's presence was faint, but he could feel it pulsing quietly inside his chest. But his chest felt strange. Like an object was nested deeply within.
"So… this is real."
Strength hummed faintly under his skin, though he knew it was illusion. A trick of recovery, not true power. Still, it was more than he'd had before.
"Finally, I can move. And while I search for food, I can digest more memories and learn about this world."
He searched his pouch and found several items: a jade slip, a few trinkets, and scraps of food long since spoiled. His attention fell to the slip. The moment he focused, the alien symbols swam across its surface, strange yet… shifting. Right in from of his eyes, Grey saw the strange and foreign language change into something he was familiar with.
His lips parted as he read aloud:
"Sky Mist… Cultivation Art."
It was the breathing method the body's previous owner had studied. Instructions on guiding Qi, the path of growth. The art noted that mist was best for practice, amplifying results.
Grey exhaled slowly. "There's no mist here… but even so, this is priceless. At least I have a technique."
The jade slip detailed the early stages. He was only at the second level of Qi Accumulation, a realm so weak it barely registered. Yet even this was a start. All he had to do now was sense the Qi within him, guide it, and continue forward.
For the first time since awakening, Grey's lips curved faintly.
He had survived. And with the crystal and this cultivation art, he had a chance to climb higher.