Chapter 1: The Pilot and the Snark
Gu are the core of cultivation in the world of "Reverend Insanity," not some abstract power system. Imagine a world where every single ability, every spell, every technique, isn't just something you "learn" but something you literally own in the form of a living, often insect-like, creature. These Gu worms, as they're often called, are incredibly diverse. They can range from the mundane, like a strength Gu that simply enhances physical might, making you capable of punching through a brick wall like it's made of tissue paper, to the utterly fantastical, like the Spring Autumn Cicada, a Gu that allows its user to be reborn into the past (with a hefty price, of course, because nothing's free in this messed-up world).
Their appearance is as varied as their functions. Some might look like shimmering, delicate butterflies, while others are grotesque, multi-legged centipedes, or even unassuming pebbles that, when activated, unleash devastating powers. They can be microscopic, residing within a cultivator's aperture, or gargantuan, capable of swallowing mountains. Every Gu has a unique ability, and usually, just one. It's their simplicity that makes them so complex, because true power comes from the killer moves, which are intricate combinations of multiple Gu, orchestrated to create a far grander effect. Think of it like a morbid, magical LEGO set where each brick is a living creature, and you're constantly trying to build bigger, badder, and more efficient contraptions to survive. They don't just grant power; they are the power, and without them, a cultivator is just a fancy meatbag waiting for a more well-equipped foe to turn them into mincemeat
Adam Stiels didn't have a final thought. He had a final facepalm. One minute, he was laughing at a particularly bad stand-up routine on his old, beat-up tablet, the next, the world was a cacophony of screeching tires and shattering glass. The last thing he saw wasn't a bright light or a tunnel, but a delivery truck with a poorly drawn cartoon bee on the side, hurtling towards him like a vengeful god of honey and logistics. His final, utterly useless, instinct was to think, "Man, that's just rude."
Then, nothing. A vast, silent blackness that was less like an empty room and more like the absence of a room entirely. He didn't feel a body, or a heartbeat, or even the dull ache of a forgotten coffee stain. He was just a consciousness floating in a void, which, to his eternal dismay, he realized was a lot more cliché than the killer bee truck.
"Seriously? This is how it ends? Just a black screen with no loading bar?" he thought, or maybe he willed the thought into existence. "No dramatic monologue? No sad song playing in the background? Just… the void? I was expecting at least a 'Game Over' screen with a high score. What's my high score? I'll bet it's 'Not Getting Hit By a Bee Truck.' Yeah, I failed that one spectacularly."
Just as the existential dread of non-existence was starting to feel a little too real, a voice, a strange, metallic, and yet oddly enthusiastic voice, echoed in the darkness.
[System Initializing...]
Adam's consciousness perked up. "Oh, thank God. A tutorial. I've been in a loading screen for, what, a decade? A millennium? I'm going to need to know how to save my progress, or at least how to get a decent cup of coffee."
[Welcome, Host Adam Stiels. You have been successfully transmigrated to the Arrowverse, specifically to Starling City on October 10, 2012. You are now a private investigator and mercenary.]
Adam's mind rebooted faster than a 90s modem. He knew that date. He knew that city. He knew the brooding billionaire who was about to make his grand return. His mental state, which was already a chaotic mess of pop-culture references, went into overdrive.
"Wait, wait, wait. The Arrowverse? The land of salmon ladders, dramatic voiceovers, and a shocking number of leather jackets? October 10, 2012? The day Oliver Queen comes back? This isn't a game, this is a fanfiction written by an overcaffeinated teenager. And I'm the main character? Please tell me I get a cool superpower. Like, maybe the ability to make perfectly toasted bagels on command. That would be useful."
[Your original body has perished. Your consciousness has been transferred to this new host. The host's original life force was consumed to power your transmigration. The host's previous name was also Adam Stiels, a statistically improbable but narratively convenient coincidence.]
"Jeez, thanks for the graphic details. So I'm a ghost in a machine, but the machine is also me, and the previous 'me' is just… gone? That's kinda dark. And narratively convenient? The system is breaking the fourth wall already? I like this guy. He's got spunk."
Then, a vibrant, translucent screen flickered into existence in his mind's eye. It was like a video game HUD, but with a sleek, minimalist design. It showed his name, his new "class" as 'Private Investigator/Mercenary,' and some stats he couldn't quite decipher. There was also a glowing, pulsing icon in the corner.
[Mission: Observe a major canon event.]
"Okay, this is where the tutorial gets interesting. What do you mean 'observe'? Do I need to be a fly on the wall? Or can I just watch the news? Because the latter sounds a lot more comfortable, and my new body feels a little… un-used. I'm pretty sure it's going to protest if I try to do a parkour roll right now."
He didn't hear a verbal response, but he felt a strange, almost telepathic push. He was no longer in the void. He was suddenly aware of the feeling of cool linen sheets, the weight of a blanket, and the subtle scent of stale coffee and dusty paper. He opened his eyes. He was in an apartment that looked exactly like what a private investigator's office would look like in a TV show: a messy desk, a half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey, a corkboard covered in photos and red string.
He sat up, his new body feeling stiff and awkward, and his gaze immediately landed on a TV screen showing a live press conference. A beautiful woman with an all-too-familiar stern expression stood at a podium. Moira Queen. And standing beside her, looking like a lost puppy who had a really, really bad day, was Oliver Queen.
"Oh man, the press conference. The official start of the madness. Okay, system, you want me to observe? I'm observing. But I'm going to provide a running commentary, because that's just how I roll."
He watched as Oliver gave his canned speech, his eyes dark and haunted, his voice low and monotone. Adam, from the comfort of his new PI chair, couldn't help but snicker.
"Look at that. The classic 'I've been through hell and I'm super damaged' look. It's like Batman, but with more hair product and a much better yacht. I bet he's already thinking about his dramatic voiceover for tonight's episode. 'My name is Oliver Queen…'"
He found the remote and cranked up the volume, just to hear the words he knew were coming. And just as Oliver finished, and the cameras cut away, the mental screen in his head lit up again.
[Mission Complete. Canon Event Observed.]
[Reward: D-Rank Attack Gu and 100 Coins.]
[Gu Acquired: D-Rank Attack Gu.]
[Coins Acquired: 100.]
A small, buzzing sensation, almost like a mosquito, appeared in his gut. It wasn't unpleasant, just… there. He focused on the feeling and a new interface appeared on his mental screen, showing a small, metallic insect-like creature buzzing with energy.
"Huh. A Gu. So that's what this system is all about. A little bug that gives me powers. An Attack Gu, huh? So, not the bagel-maker I was hoping for. But a little bug that can punch people really hard? I can work with that. It's better than a sharp stick, at least."
He leaned back in his chair, a wry grin spreading across his face. This was real. This was his life now. He wasn't in Kansas anymore. He was in Starling City, on the day a brooding vigilante was born, with a snarky system and a bug that could probably hit harder than a freight train. He looked around his messy office, at the stacks of papers and the half-eaten pizza on the table.
"Well, new life, new me. I guess the first order of business is to clean up this place. A guy's gotta have a clean base of operations if he's going to be a sarcastic, pop-culture-obsessed vigilante sidekick. Or, you know, just a guy with a new bug friend. Yeah, that sounds more my speed."