Hunger was becoming a problem. It had been thirty hours.
Wuxu needed calories. His Anchor—his mortal body—needed fuel to maintain the biological processes that kept him alive. The Domain protected him from magic and physics, but it didn't generate protein.
He watched a large black beetle scuttle across the floorboards. It was a Corpse-Eating Beetle, common in places with high death energy.
It crossed the line.
Wuxu snatched it. He didn't hesitate. He popped the crunching exoskeleton into his mouth. It tasted like bitter acid and rot, but it was protein.
As he chewed, his mind drifted to the moment he realized what he had become.
[Three Months Ago: Corpse Valley]
He had been thrown from the cliff. The only reason he survived the fall was that his body had hit the canopy of a Spirit Tree, breaking every bone in his legs but sparing his skull.
He lay in the mud for three days.
The pain was absolute. It wasn't just the physical injuries. It was Heaven's Rejection.
Without a spiritual root, the ambient Qi of the world was toxic. The atmospheric pressure of a cultivation world was immense; mortals only survived because they had trace amounts of Qi in their blood. Wuxu had zero.
The air felt like liquid lead. Gravity felt like a hydraulic press.
He was dying. The world was crushing him because he was empty.
'I am incompatible,' he realized, staring at the grey, lightning-scarred sky. 'The Laws of Physics here... the Laws of Magic... they require a permit. My permit is revoked.'
A pack of Spirit Wolves circled him. They smelled the blood.
Wuxu closed his eyes. He didn't pray. He hated the gods. He hated the Heavens.
'If the World rejects me... then I reject the World.'
He focused on the emptiness where his root used to be. The hole. The Void.
Most cultivators fill their dantian with energy. Wuxu filled his with Denial.
'I do not accept this gravity. I do not accept this pain. I do not accept your Laws.'
He pushed the concept of "No" outward.
It wasn't a technique. It was a collapse. He forced his internal emptiness to manifest externally.
SCHLUUP.
A sound like a vacuum seal breaking.
Suddenly, the crushing weight vanished. The pain stopped.
Wuxu opened his eyes.
A sphere of absolute silence surrounded him. The rain that was falling from the sky simply ceased to exist the moment it entered the sphere. The mud beneath him lost its magical toxicity.
A wolf lunged.
It passed the barrier. Its Spirit Qi—the magic that allowed it to be a monster—evaporated. It was just a dog. A heavy, clumsy dog.
Wuxu, broken and dying, felt a strange surge of power. Not strength. Authority.
He reached out and touched the wolf.
"Unmake."
He didn't know why he said it. It just felt right.
The wolf didn't explode. It simply... wasn't there anymore.
[Present Day]
Wuxu swallowed the last of the beetle.
He looked at the countdown in his vision—the only interface he had, a manifestation of his own obsessive calculation.
[Shift Cooldown: 1 Day, 02 Hours.]
He looked outside at the Law Enforcement disciples. They were getting bored. One of them was yawning, leaning against the blue barrier.
"They think I'm trapped," Wuxu murmured, picking up a rusty nail from the floor. He began to scratch a diagram onto the wood.
It was a map of the Sect.
"They think this shed is my coffin. They don't know..."
He stabbed the nail into the location marked 'Main Hall'.
"...that I'm just waiting for the engine to warm up."
He needed to survive 26 more hours. Then, he wouldn't just leave. He would bring the Domain to them.
"Elder Han," Wuxu whispered, his voice flat and terrifyingly calm. "I hope you slept well. It will be the last peaceful night you ever have."