Rookie writer, bad flow, more chapters avaible but keep at the daily post. Just a silly book with absurd ideas, don't take it seriously

  Schedule

  5 chapters per week,

  Monday - friday

  Saturday and Sunday is rest day

  ---

  Blue Cloud Mist City.

  Morning mist bnketed the streets like a zy veil, wrapping around buildings and softening the edges of the world. The city was still waking up—shopkeepers preparing for the day's business, guards pacing their usual patrol routes, and the occasional early riser shuffling through the quiet alleys.

  It was a moment of peace, a rare kind of tranquility in a world where survival was a constant battle.

  A safe haven—that's what this city was meant to be. A refuge for cultivators, a pce where humanity carved out its own stubborn existence against the will of heaven itself.

  Because, if the ancient teachings were to be believed, heaven despised the human race.

  The saying went: "Humanity was never meant to exist."

  We were the race that knew no bounds, that cwed our way forward despite the heavens pushing us back. Cultivators defied the natural order, broke through limitations, sought power beyond what was granted to them. The sky's response? Monsters that roamed the nds, demons born from negative emotions, camities that wiped out entire sects overnight.

  It was a cycle—rebellion and retribution.

  Elias sat on a ft stone by a small pond, his legs dangling off the edge as he stared into the water’s rippling surface. He exhaled a long sigh.

  “Hard to be human, past life or present. The biggest problem is always the same—how the hell do I survive?”

  The morning mist curled around him, cool against his skin. He frowned, rubbing his face before hopping off the rock and pacing toward the pond.

  “Alright, let’s assess.”

  He rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

  "Going by my current situation... I should be one of those cliché transmigrator protagonists, right?”

  Silence.

  His frown deepened.

  “Then where’s my cheat? Don’t tell me I’m just an ordinary dude!”

  He stomped on a patch of wild grass in frustration, mumbling under his breath.

  His name was Elias. A regur guy—until he wasn’t.

  One day, he just woke up in this body, in this world. A world that wasn’t his. A body that wasn’t his. And to top it all off, the original owner had been dying of some nasty disease.

  Lucky for him, the moment he took over, the illness mysteriously vanished. A miracle? Maybe. A warning sign? Probably.

  Either way, he was alive.

  After the initial panic and identity crisis, he did what any rational person would do—gather intel.

  And the more he learned about this world, the more his paranoia grew.

  This wasn’t just some ancient civilization. It was a full-blown cultivation world.

  A world where people cultivated their souls and bodies to reach immortality, where experts could split mountains and boil seas with a flick of their fingers.

  And just like any sane person thrown into a world like this, Elias made a firm decision.

  Avoid trouble. Stay alive. Don’t get involved in anything insane.

  Simple, right?

  Unfortunately, there was just one problem.

  The body he inherited belonged to a spiritual pnter—basically a cultivator farmer. Not the cool kind that threw fireballs or rode swords through the sky. Nope. His whole job revolved around growing medicinal pnts used for alchemy.

  And he’d been doing it for over twenty years.

  Which was why, despite looking like a young man in his twenties, he was actually fifty years old. Youth-preserving pills were a wonderful thing.

  Honestly, he could’ve just coasted from here. His cultivation level—a respectable 6th Layer Qi Refining Realm—meant he had a lifespan of over 150 years. His savings were solid. He had no powerful enemies.

  A peaceful, uneventful life.

  But then… there was this.

  Elias crossed his arms, staring at the enormous field of spiritual pnts beside the pond.

  A thousand low-tier spiritual grasses.

  Two hundred medium-grade Fire Bde Pnts.

  Thirty high-grade Blue Mist Herbs.

  All meticulously cultivated, thriving under his care.

  “…Why the hell did the original owner grow so many?”

  That was the nagging question.

  And no matter how hard Elias tried to dig through the body's memories for an answer, something blocked him.

  A restriction. A gap. Like a locked door in his own mind.

  “…Yeah. I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

  His smile was bright, cheerful even.

  Because, really, what else could he do?

  Something was very wrong, and he had no way of knowing what it was until it hit him in the face.

  “Welp. Guess I’ll deal with it when it happens.”

  Still… if he had a cheat, maybe he wouldn’t have to be so worried.

  If.

  Which brought him back to his current predicament.

  For the past month, he had been trying every method imaginable to awaken a cheat ability.

  He tried meditating under the moonlight.

  He tried focusing all his energy into his dantian.

  He even tried screaming dramatic lines at the heavens.

  Nothing.

  But giving up? Not an option.

  “I refuse to believe I’m just a side character!” Elias stood tall, feet pnted wide, arms stretched out like a madman.

  He took a deep breath—

  “AWAKEN, SYSTEM!”

  Silence.

  Mist swirled. A bird chirped somewhere in the distance.

  “…Tch.”

  He scowled, shaking his head. Time for the next attempt—

  Then, suddenly—

  Ding!

  A blue screen flickered into existence before his eyes, glowing faintly in the misty air.

  Elias blinked.

  Wait.

  Wait, wait, wait—

  Was this—

  [Congratutions! The host has successfully bound to the Dungeon Creation System of the Myriad Worlds!]

  Elias stared at the floating text.

  “…Huh?”

  Hold on. Dungeon?

  This was a cultivation world. There were no dungeons here. No adventurers. No loot grinding.

  What kind of nonsense was—

  [Exciting, right? A fresh dungeon genre integrated into a cultivation world! Just imagine the endless possibilities!]

  “…Is this even doable?”

  [That’s the fun part! The collision of two genres! The chaos! The evolution! A grand experiment of fate itself!]

  Elias’ face was deadpan.

  This system… was clearly insane.

  And before he could argue—

  [Here’s the manual on how to use this system! Injecting directly into host’s mind—now!]

  “What? Wait—”

  Pain.

  A flood of information smmed into his skull like a battering ram.

  Elias colpsed by the pond, hands clutching his head, teeth grinding against the sheer overload of knowledge pouring into his brain.

  Dungeons—creation—monsters—youts—resources—systems—endless streams of data, blueprints, mechanics—

  An hour ter, the pain finally faded.

  Elias groaned, dragging himself toward the pond and spshing cold water onto his face.

  “…I survived.”

  He took a deep breath, then exhaled.

  “…So.”

  A slow grin spread across his face.

  “I can… create dungeons?”

  The mist curled around him, and in the stillness of the morning, something within Elias shifted.

  This… might be fun.