The darkness did not feel cold.
It felt vast.
When Zhou Jing gave the command, the room around him did not disappear; rather, another layer of existence unfolded behind reality itself. His bedroom remained visible in the periphery of his awareness—the tall window, the polished floor, the distant hum of estate security systems—but before him expanded a silent, starless expanse.
Within it, faint streams of light began to gather.
[Apostle Vessel Creation Initiated]
[Template Generation in Progress…]
Zhou Jing watched carefully.
He did not rush to interfere.
Threads of pale radiance intertwined, forming the outline of a human figure suspended in the void. Data flowed around it—not in overwhelming torrents, but in controlled, readable sequences. Strength potential. Muscular density. Neural responsiveness. Vital capacity. Spiritual receptivity.
Each attribute appeared adjustable within certain limits.
Zhou Jing narrowed his eyes slightly.
If he pursued extremes, instability might follow. A fragile body with high agility would die quickly. A brute-force physique without adaptability would stagnate. This was not a legendary hero's creation. It was a foundation.
He adjusted nothing recklessly.
Instead, he allowed the parameters to balance at a stable mid-range—superior to an ordinary civilian, but far from extraordinary by martial standards. Enough to survive hardship. Enough to grow.
The silhouette solidified gradually, gaining weight and depth. Details sharpened—bone structure, muscle layering, internal organ configuration. It was not an identical copy of his main body, but there was a subtle resemblance in posture and proportions.
[Vessel Stability: Confirmed]
[Risk Assessment: Low]
[Descent Available]
Zhou Jing exhaled slowly.
So simple.
No thunder in the sky. No divine proclamation.
Just a choice.
He stood from his bed and walked once around the room, grounding himself in physical sensation. The estate was quiet at this hour. Tomorrow would begin the preparations for his departure to Outer Colony Sector 7-19. Three days remained before official exile.
If this system was real, tonight would mark the turning point of his life.
He returned to sit cross-legged on the bed, back straight, hands resting on his knees. His breathing slowed into a steady rhythm, a habit he had developed while attempting—unsuccessfully—to pursue Hyper cultivation in the past.
His eyes focused on the suspended figure in the void.
"I descend."
The response was immediate.
[Consciousness Transfer Initiated]
[Primary Body: Stable]
[Apostle Vessel: Activating]
There was no violent dislocation.
Instead, his awareness stretched thin, like silk drawn through a narrow ring. The sensation was neither painful nor pleasant. It was precise. His perception of his bedroom receded, dimming to a faint echo at the back of his mind.
Then—
Air rushed into unfamiliar lungs.
Zhou Jing opened his eyes.
The sky above him was not the orderly glow of a metropolitan dome but a vast canopy of deep crimson fading into indigo. Clouds drifted slowly across it, heavy and uneven. The scent of dry earth filled his senses, mixed with something metallic and raw.
He was standing on a dirt road.
Wind brushed against his face, rough and unfiltered.
He looked down at his hands.
Larger than before. The knuckles slightly thicker. The skin rougher. When he flexed his fingers, tendons shifted smoothly beneath the surface, responding with immediate precision.
No delay.
No disconnect.
This was not remote control.
This was embodiment.
A faint thread of awareness still connected him to his main body in the Zhou estate. He could sense it distantly—sitting upright on the bed, breathing calmly, appearing asleep. But his primary consciousness was here.
He took a slow step forward.
The gravel crunched underfoot.
The weight distribution felt natural. Balanced. This Apostle body possessed more raw physical capability than his original form, but not overwhelmingly so. It was a modest enhancement—enough to feel confident, not enough to feel invincible.
He scanned the surroundings.
Rolling plains stretched outward, broken by scattered rock formations. In the distance, a cluster of low stone structures huddled together, faint smoke rising from several rooftops. A settlement of some kind.
Before he could move further, the system displayed new information.
[Astral Realm Detected: Designation Pending]
[Time Flow Ratio: Accelerated Relative to Main World]
[Coordinate Lock: Established]
[Apostle Survival Status: Independent]
Zhou Jing absorbed each line calmly.
Accelerated time.
That meant hours here would equal minutes—or less—in the Main World. He could live entire experiences without neglecting his primary existence.
A distant shout cut through the wind.
His gaze sharpened instantly.
Near the settlement's outer edge, figures were moving rapidly—some retreating, others advancing. The metallic glint of weapons caught the fading light.
Conflict.
Zhou Jing did not hesitate.
He began walking toward the disturbance, pace measured but steady. As he approached, details sharpened: three armed men pushing against a broken section of stone wall while several villagers attempted to resist with farming tools.
Bandits.
The scene was simple and brutal. One of the attackers struck a middle-aged man across the face with the flat of a blade, sending him sprawling into the dust. A child screamed somewhere behind the wall.
Zhou Jing felt something stir within his chest—not reckless anger, but clarity.
This world operated on strength.
And this was his first step within it.
The nearest bandit noticed him approaching and frowned. "Who's that?"
Zhou Jing did not answer.
He adjusted his stance slightly, testing balance and weight one final time. The Apostle body responded with quiet readiness.
Behind his vision, a final line appeared:
[First External Conflict Detected]
[Outcome Will Influence Initial Astral Accumulation]
Zhou Jing's lips curved faintly.
So even the system acknowledged turning points.
He stepped forward onto the battlefield.
For the first time in his life—
No one here knew he was F-tier.