It all started when a Godly being took me and a whole bunch of others to reincarnate us for some entertainment. The Old Man must have been bored as fuck. So anyway, we were all taken by this God, told to use some of his power to make an ability and then think about what world we want to be born in. I chose CCG because I figured it would be one of the easiest to level up in. Ten Stages and that’s it. Boy did I ever feel like I got kicked in the teeth. Don’t get me wrong I got my cheaty power just not the way I wanted.

  How long am I here? I’m 30 this year so I’m just slightly under those guys from major sects which makes all of those sects believe that my natural talent is pretty much incredibly high and it’s only by the pce I was born and ck of resources that is limiting me. Only my friends and I know that’s a load of crap. I never told my friends about the system but they know I have a secret I can’t tell people so they don’t ask, instead like others believing that it’s an inheritance.

  My current stage allows me to be an Elder in a small sect like this and I can help boost them all but the other Elders don’t like me. Not that it matters to me, I never cared what others thought of me. So here is how my story so far goes. I was born in 1987 on Earth in the CCG universe after using an almighty Beings power to create a cheat in a cheat only to find out I got nerfed.

  When we used the God’s power, I wished for infinite system points—the ultimate cheat. Sure enough, as soon as I arrived in this new world and gained awareness, I saw four tabs in my system:

  STATUS INVENTORY NOTIFICATIONS (1) STORE

  I was psyched. All the treasures in the world would be mine, right? Infinite points, baby!

  But when I opened the Store…it was empty. Completely bnk. I had a total meltdown. What was the point of infinite currency if there was nothing to buy?

  A soft ding echoed in my head, and a notification popped up, obviously from that trickster God:

  So Jason,

  You thought you could cheat me? Did it work out as you thought?

  I have been watching and reincarnating Mortals for Billions upon Billions of years.

  I have seen how Mortals minds work.

  So I have decided to grant you your infinite points cheat but at the cost of the entire system store.

  Now you can still buy things, I won’t ever take THAT away from you, but the only things which you can buy are those you have sold to the system store.

  For example - If you sell a chunk of material or anything else for that matter, you can then buy as much of that as you want from the store.

  There will be no function updates either or purchasable updates.

  Techniques that you sell will not have further or simir techniques.

  Spirit Stones, Pills, Ingredients, Materials and Techniques all can be bought only if you sell them first. I want this to be completely understood.

  The System will keep track of your skills and abilities, your body and stages but be warned - You are NOT a video game character; The system can’t speak to you; You don’t get EXP to level up; It is only there to keep track of your progress nothing more. You wanted infinite system points, that is what you get, nothing more nothing less.

  I probably will never contact you again either so I really wish you a good long entertaining life.

  This notice will be kept in your inventory until you destroy it.

  P.S inventory will scale with your stage, the stronger you are the more space. I have modified your body though for future excuses.

  —The Old Man

  Of course, as a baby, I only had access to random junk—basic herbs, scraps, and so on. None of it was particurly valuable in cultivation terms. No Blood-and-Qi Pills, no body-tempering fluid, no spirit stones. Basically, sweet fuck all. Just to build up a meager catalog of stuff to buy. Ugh. Not exactly the OP start I envisioned.

  I was reincarnated in 1987, born in Hong Kong to a loving family of cultivators—though I didn’t figure that st part out until I was older.

  My mother’s side came from a small Chinese cultivation cn. They practiced the traditional approach:

  Chinese Cultivation: centered in the navel dantian.

  My father, on the other hand, was a British cultivator—or “sorcerer,” to be precise. In the West, they had somewhat different systems:

  Sorcery centered in the head dantian.

  Warrior centered in the heart dantian.

  He came from a noble family in the UK that specialized in “sorcery,” which is basically the Western way of harnessing energy. They don’t call it “cultivation” so much as “magic” or “sorcery,” but it’s all about refining oneself—just with a different emphasis. My parents told me that these different paths coexist around the globe. Most Chinese cns see themselves as cultivators first, though some dabble in sorcery or warrior arts if it suits them.

  As for me, I was a mixed-blood kid with a father who swung a longsword (or sometimes a British gdius) and a mother who preferred the flowing Chinese sword arts. If that sounds complicated, trust me, it was.

  Realizing I was reincarnated, I spent my toddler years sneaking around the house, “borrowing” anything that might be valuable or exotic—herbs, small trinkets, low-level materials—to sell to my system’s Store. That way, I could re-buy them infinitely with my infinite points. It wasn’t super impressive stuff, but it was something.

  I basically had to wait until I was eight to even start official cultivation. According to my mother’s cn, the body had to reach a certain maturity before doing the “Hundred Days Foundation.” My father agreed—though for him, it was about letting my head dantian or heart dantian form properly, in case I wanted to become a sorcerer or warrior instead of a traditional Chinese cultivator. They both encouraged me to try everything and see what fit best.

  By the time I was eight, I started body tempering with a low-level potion the cn provided. That first taste burned like a five-arm chili going down, but the effects were incredible. My entire body buzzed with newfound strength. I almost colpsed from excitement.

  When I moved on to opening my apertures (Eye, Nose, Ear, Mouth, etc.), I discovered something interesting in the Mouth Aperture. It felt weird, as if my teeth and throat were itchy. My cn’s records only had vague references to a “Swallowing Technique” used by a vanished sect. My mother suspected I might have awakened something simir—where swallowing certain beast cores or materials could strengthen my body. It sounded either insane or insanely cool.

  Regardless, I kept quietly training, filling each aperture with Qi while scrounging for better materials to feed my system. Eventually, I reached the threshold for the Second Stage of Chinese cultivation. That alone was enough to excite the cn Elders—they started whispering about me possibly joining a major sect.

  While all this was happening, my parents also introduced me to sword practice. My mother favored Chinese swords:

  The Jian (double-edged) or the Dao (single-edged, curved).

  My father was all about European bdes:

  A gdius, a longsword, or even a two-hander.

  I ended up choosing a gdius. Mom pouted (she wanted me to learn a graceful Chinese style), but Dad found it hirious. Meanwhile, I discovered that training in two different sword styles is no joke—Chinese movements are fluid and elegant, while Western swordpy is direct and forceful. But hey, variety keeps life interesting.

  Around nine I started pulling ahead of my peers. Instead of celebrating with me, they backed off. Some felt jealous that I was breaking through faster, fueled by rumors about “secret inheritances.” Others were just worried I’d leave them behind for a big shot sect. I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt—it stung. Losing friends over something I couldn’t fully control was a harsh reality check.

  But, ironically, their cold shoulder made me double down on training. If I was going to be lonely anyway, I might as well cultivate and prove them all wrong. Plus, I had a bigger dream: I knew that eventually, the Cultivation Chat Group would form, and if I pyed my cards right, I’d befriend powerful cultivators—and maybe make some new friends along the way.

  By the time I was nearly ten, I pushed through the st bits of the First Stage and felt the surge of energy flood my navel dantian, sparking the Second Stage. My parents were overjoyed.

  “You’ve done well, son,” my father told me with a proud grin. “And now you have choices to make. Whether you stick with Chinese cultivation, or explore Sorcery or Warrior arts—well, you’re at the stage where you can y a second foundation.”

  I learned that crossing into the Second Stage meant I was stable enough to try out the other dantian routes if I wanted:

  Chinese Cultivation (Navel).

  Sorcery (Head).

  Warrior (Heart).

  “Of course,” my father added, “you don’t have to pick just one if you’re determined. Some people combine methods, but that usually takes far more time and resources.”

  I was already bridging Chinese cultivation with a pseudo-sorcery approach (thanks to Dad’s background). It made me more well-rounded, but also a bit of an oddball to the cn Elders, who only recognized the traditional route. Frankly, I was fine being an oddball—as long as it let me grow stronger. Plus, I liked the idea of forming my own style, blending the best of both worlds.

  That’s how I spent my childhood years in the Cultivation Chat Group world: juggling an empty Store with infinite points, alienating friends with my awkward freak-talent, and navigating two cshing cultivation philosophies at home. Not exactly the epic “instant OP” life I’d envisioned, but not bad either.

  Looking back now, it was the perfect training ground for who I’d eventually become: a Fourth Stage cultivator (with a dash of sorcery), an Elder in a small sect, and the guy who just beat the snot out of Su Cn juniors. But the crazy part?

  My story was only just beginning.