In the Real World
I suddenly jolted as if struck by lightning, my crimson eyes widening in terror, my entire body trembling violently.
I fell to my knees, my hands pressing against my chest where there was no wound.
"No... no... no..." I whispered unconsciously, crimson tears streaming from my eyes.
The memories of the Blood Path were so vivid, as if I had lived them myself. The pain, the betrayal, the loneliness... everything felt so real.
No—these were reincarnation paths. This meant I had experienced this in one of my past lives.
Everyone in the Spirit Sea was calling my name, but I couldn't hear them.
My mind was still trapped in those memories. My body bent forward, vomiting blood onto the ground.
"I... I..." I tried to speak, but the words choked in my throat. My hands trembled as I tried to wipe the blood from my mouth.
Suddenly, I burst into laughter—a mad, bitter laughter, full of despair. "Hahaha... all of this... for what?!"
My hands clenched against the ground until they bled. "I killed them... I killed all of them... only to be fooled by the same game!"
But the truth hammered against my head like a mallet. If I had been born under different circumstances, if I had suffered the same pain, wouldn't I have become exactly like my Blood Path self?
The images of piled corpses, the screams of victims, Liang's final gaze... all of it was engraved in my mind.
"I felt everything," I whispered, unconsciously rubbing my chest. "The hatred... the pain... even the moment of death."
Only now did I understand what my soul in the Heavenly Boundary Realm meant. Compared to what they had endured, who was I?
After some time, I gradually calmed down and looked toward the window that had appeared.
(Current Blood Path progress: 24%)
(Obtained new skill: Blood Control)
My eyes widened upon hearing this. "Why did I obtain a new technique?"
(Reincarnation Paths: Techniques related to the world paths of past lives. Each path is a previous life of the user. The user can obtain all information from the path but can only acquire one technique from it.)
I see. So wait—doesn't this mean I can gain the power of many paths? That I'll explode with skills?
No. Looking at my old self's words, each memory would be a hell. Not to mention merging all these memories with my soul would make me lose the distinction between dreams and reality and end up killing myself. But my progress in the Blood Path was... 24%. It could be increased if I entered again, but it would be painful.
Yet I also felt disappointment. The Blood Path version was able to restore the dantian. It seems that "bloodlines" are what repair the dantian. Does this mean if I obtain a high-level bloodline, I'll be cured? But my other self gathered bloodlines for only fifteen years just to restore it.
But this is my only thread of hope. Now I know what to do.
For now, I can change my bloodline. After all, I have Dragon Blood, and I had already planned to use it. There was also a recipe for purifying the bloodline and extracting only the pure essence—all thanks to the Heavenly Pill Emperor.
But due to the method of making it, I'm afraid I might fail, and my resources are limited.
So I've determined my next path. What will it be?
"Uni, I will use the Reincarnation Paths again."
(Are you sure? You just came out of the Blood Path.)
"Absolutely sure. I finally have a thread of hope, and I won't waste it."
(Choose the path you wish to study.)
"I will choose the Alchemy Path."
---
The moment I chose this option, I felt my body sink into a vortex of darkness.
The world around me distorted and faded, and I suddenly found myself in a damp cave, reeking of rotting herbs and old blood.
The cave walls were covered with strange symbols, and the floor was paved with dark stains of unknown fluids.
In the center stood a gaunt old man with sunken eyes, wearing a dirty brown robe, staring at us—the "disciples"—the kidnapped ones—with the gaze of a butcher looking at his herd.
"You are here to serve the great art of alchemy," he said in his hoarse voice. "Whoever disobeys my orders... will become fodder for my experiments."
We had been kidnapped by this old man to be "fodder," so to speak, while we were here like cattle.
I was the youngest disciple, fifteen years old. There were about twenty of us—children and teenagers.
Every morning, the "master" would choose a group of us to help him refine pills, while the rest were forced to gather poisonous herbs and tend to the other refining materials.
Every month, the old man would bring a new batch of disciples, while some had died from poisoning or because the "refining materials" had gone berserk.
[Aka People are used to study the effectiveness of pills]
After three months of being here, only four of us remained from our first batch.
Lin, eighteen years old; his younger brother, Hui; and a girl named Ming.
Cornered by their situation, they planned to escape at night while the master was asleep.
But I really wasn't interested. As long as I was alive, I didn't care about anything else.
Then, while I was walking around, I found the other three about to escape. Hui immediately spotted me.
"Come with us!" Hui whispered to me as they dug a small tunnel behind a large rock. "We can't leave you here!"
But I shook my head. "He will kill everyone if we escape... we have to stay."
"Let's move, Hui. If he wants to stay, leave him." Lin didn't even bother to turn toward me.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of horrifying screams.
I came out of my corner in the cave to find the old master standing in the center, with three corpses lying around him like garbage bags.
They were Lin, Hui, and Ming. Their wide-open eyes held the final look of terror before their death.
Their bodies were grotesquely mutilated. Lin had broken arms and gouged-out eyes. Hui had a torn belly with scattered intestines. Ming had her skin partially flayed.
"This is what happens to those who try to escape," the master said in his dry voice, lifting little Hui's body with one hand. "But don't worry. I have brought a new batch of disciples today."
Then the old master turned his gaze toward me and began walking in my direction. Terror crept into my heart. I felt as if I would die on the spot if I even breathed.
"You... they called you to escape last night. Why didn't you run with them?" His cold gaze was fixed on me. His wrinkles were clear on his face up close, and his foul smell penetrated my nose.
"I... I owe the master a great debt. Survival was difficult for me before. I couldn't even find anything to eat. But when the master saved me, here... at least I have a roof, and food—even if it's not perfect, it's better than anything." I wasn't good at lying, so I told part of the truth. I had indeed grown up in the slums, so the story of hunger was completely true.
The old man smiled as if pleased with the answer and raised his palm.
I involuntarily closed my eyes, thinking I would die. But then his hand gently landed on my head. "From today, call me Master. You will be my disciple."
Disciple? The old man already had other disciples, and he had never taken any disciple from us—the sacrificial rams. This felt different from usual.
---
Two years later
I became the master's right-hand man. His most talented disciple, and the most obedient.
I learned how to grind human bones to make "Despair Soul powder", and how to extract poisons from the organs of young children to make the "Eternal Agony Pill."
He taught me the most secret pill-refining techniques, arousing even the envy of his other disciples.
Every night, I would wake up to nightmares of the victims. Every morning, I would wash the blood from my hands and continue my work.
"You are different from the others," the master said one day, running his wrinkled hand through my hair. "You have a true talent for alchemy."
I smiled coldly at him. "Thank you, Master."
Still, I was nothing more than a tool...a cowardice one at that, if you think about it.
After all, I had nearly died on many occasions, and today was no different.
The master held my mouth open and made me try the Chaotic Ash Pill, which destroys the internal organs.
The pain was unbearable.
I felt as if fire were burning in my entrails, every muscle in my body convulsing violently.
Blood flowed from my nose and mouth, and my vision turned to red mist.
But the old master was laughing.
"Excellent endurance, my disciple!" he shouted, writing notes quickly. "Symptoms reduced by 30% compared to the last trial!"
I fell to the ground, my teeth grinding from the pain. My fingers dug into the damp soil, trying to hold onto anything.
This bastard. For these two years, he had been giving me pills that brought me close to death, only to save me at the last moment to make me suffer even more the next day.
The old man bent over me, his yellowish eyes gleaming with scientific curiosity rather than any compassion. "Progress requires sacrifices, my boy. And you have proven to be more durable than the others."
---
That torture continued for three more years
I became like the master's shadow. My body was covered with scars from the experiments, but my knowledge of alchemy grew enormously.
Yet every night, I would wake up trembling from nightmares. The images of the victims haunted me: Lin, Hui, Ming, and dozens of others.
One night, while I was working on a new batch of Broken Soul Pills, I heard a faint voice from the cage beside me.
"Please... help me."
It was a small child, no more than ten years old, his eyes filled with tears. He looked a lot like Hui—or at least that's what I saw.
My hands trembled over the ingredients. For the first time in years, I felt something strange in my chest.
"Don't make a sound," I whispered as I gently opened the cage. "Hide among the corpses over there. In the morning, when the master goes to gather herbs, run toward the river."
The child looked at me in surprise, then nodded quickly before crawling into the pile of corpses covered with dirty cloth.
That night, I decided it was time to end it. I couldn't take this anymore. How long was I supposed to live like a dog, grateful every day just to stay alive?
I waited until the master was sound asleep, then crawled toward the main poison cabinet.
My hand wasn't trembling this time.
"Silent Death Pill," I muttered.
The poison I had specially made for this day—odorless, tasteless, killing within seconds without pain.
I added it to the goblet of wine he drank every night before sleep.
But when I turned around, I found the master standing behind me, his eyes glowing in the darkness.
"My loyal disciple..." he whispered in a voice full of betrayal. "Do you know how many others have tried to poison me?"
My heart froze.
In the blink of an eye, the master's knife was at my throat. "But you... you were my favorite."
Blood began to flow from my neck, and at that moment, he grabbed me by the throat.
---
The following days were hell
He cut off my limbs and mutilated my body, forcing me to consume even more deadly pills made from my own flesh.
But the "Phoenix Tear Pills" he forced me to take kept me alive.
Every organ, every bone in my body was constantly melting and being reshaped.
"Look how beautiful you are now!" the master whispered, patting what remained of my left shoulder. "Your body has become the purest raw material I have ever seen in my life!"
I was hanging from the ceiling with iron chains, my mutilated body dripping droplets of a viscous purple liquid—my blood, after he had mixed it with 999 of his poisons.
In the corner of the room, I saw the huge cauldron boiling with horrific contents: the remains of previous disciples, human organs, and ground bones.
"Today we will make my final masterpiece," the master said, holding a curved knife. "The Immortality Pill... and you will be its main ingredient."
The master's knife slowly sank into my chest, and I was unable to scream—his previous pills had paralyzed my throat.
I felt the blade move through my flesh, scraping against my bones. The pain was indescribable, but my eyes were dry. Even tears had been stolen from me.
He wrote some words on my body—letters in a language I had never read before.
After imprinting every inch of my body, he lifted me high and then threw me into the blazing cauldron as he extracted my five organs and put them in the cauldron as he kept my soul attached to my body
---
In those final moments inside the cauldron
While my flesh was separating from my bones under the acidic boiling, something strange happened.
My left eye—the last remaining one—watched as the strange engraved letters on my skin began to glow with a sinister purple light.
The old master was screaming with mad excitement: "Yes! Yes! Finally! I have succeeded!"
My voice had faded long ago, but my mind was painfully clear. I suddenly realized that all those years of torture... all those experiments... had just been preparation for this moment.
I was the pill.
The master hadn't been trying to make the Immortality Pill from me... he had been transforming me into the Immortality Pill.
The cauldron suddenly exploded with a terrifying purple glow.
Then... everything faded as I burned to pieces and became the pill.
---
I suddenly jolted as if struck by lightning. My crimson eyes were wide open, a muffled scream escaping my mouth.
I fell to my knees, grabbing my shoulder to examine myself.
But I could still feel the burning—that excruciating pain of flesh melting inside the cauldron.
"No... no... no..." I whispered unconsciously. I had come out of one hell only to enter another hell.
My hands trembled violently as I tried to wipe the cold sweat from my forehead. The memories... they weren't just fleeting images.
I had lived every moment of that torture, every second of that despair.
(Alchemy Path progress: 57%)
(Obtained new skill: Void Cauldron)
(Host, please rest for now.)
"Rest?" I laughed a muffled laugh full of mockery. "After everything I've seen... everything I've felt..."
"Uni, I remember all the knowledge of those pills, but I don't remember any techniques other than the Void Cauldron."
(That is obvious. Only one skill is allowed per path.)
"Uni, with my current adaptability, what is the maximum number of paths I can enter?"
(Fifty at most, but please pay attention to the host's mental age.)
My mental age? As if I care about that. I lived for thirty years in the Blood Path, and lived for about twenty years in the Alchemy Path. My initial mental age was thirty, making my mind like someone in their eighties.
I didn't pay much attention to Uni's warning, but I had to focus on carefully choosing the fifty paths.
Still, there was no limit to the number of times I could enter the same path. It's just that I wouldn't obtain a new skill no matter how many times I entered. But my goal was far from skills. I wasn't seeking skills—I was seeking perfection across the paths.