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[System Notification: Welcome to Stellar Immortal Online!]
[Error: Player consciousness incompatible with standard avatar. Initiating Emergency Protocol...]
[Success! Alternate hosting method found. Welcome, Sect Master Chen Hao.]
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Chen Hao opened his eyes to the sound of something crumbling.
Specifically, the ceiling of what had once been the "Grand Hall of Heavenly Jade Enlightenment" — now a dilapidated stone room where half the roof had decided that gravity was, in fact, its friend.
He didn't scream. Screaming was for people who hadn't already died once.
Qi deviation. Exploded meridians. Seventeen years of cultivation down the toilet because I tried to force open the Ren Meridian during a thunderstorm.
That was his last memory. Now he was here, lying on a moldy meditation cushion, staring at a translucent blue screen hovering in his peripheral vision like the world's most persistent mosquito.
[Sect Master System v0.1 — BETA BUILD]
[Current Status: Last Disciple of Heavenly Jade Sect]
[Cultivation: Qi Gathering Layer 1 (0.3%)]
[Sect Population: 1 (You)]
[Spiritual Energy Reserves: 12 units (Critical)]
[Player Slots Available: 0/10 (Requires: Functional Cultivation Chamber)]
"Player slots?" Chen Hao croaked, his voice echoing in the empty hall.
His throat felt like sandpaper. His robes — once presumably a majestic shade of jade green — were now the color of "dried algae after three weeks of drought." His hair, which should have been flowing and immortal-like, was matted with what he desperately hoped was dust.
The System, bless its mechanical heart, answered immediately:
[Players: Entities summoned from Parallel World "Earth" via immersive virtual reality technology. They will perceive this world as a video game. They will cultivate on your behalf. They will die repeatedly for your benefit.]
[Note: Players are not actually immortal. Their consciousness simply returns to Earth upon death. You, however, are very mortal. Please do not confuse the two.]
Chen Hao stared at the notification. Then he stared at the hole in the ceiling. Then he stared at the single remaining wall decoration — a faded scroll depicting someone who was definitely not the sect founder, unless the founder had been a stick figure with excellent posture.
"So," he said slowly, testing the words in his mouth, "you want me to... trick people into becoming my disciples? By pretending this is a game?"
[Affirmative. Players will complete quests, advance cultivation realms, and generate Spiritual Energy through their activities. You will receive 10% of all energy generated, 100% of all "dropped" talents upon player death, and full administrative control over sect operations.]
[Additionally: Players cannot reveal the "game's" true nature to non-players. Built-in cognitive dissonance protocols prevent disclosure. They will sound like insane people if they try.]
Chen Hao laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh. It was the laugh of a man who had spent seventeen years in a cultivation sect where the strong preyed on the weak, where "righteous" elders embezzled spirit stones, and where his own "friends" had sabotaged his breakthrough attempt because they didn't want competition for the inner disciple selection.
"So I'm running a scam," he said. "A pyramid scheme with extra steps."
[You are preserving a 3,000-year-old cultivation legacy.]
"I'm running a scam."
[...Technically, yes. But with religious significance.]
Chen Hao pulled himself to his feet, joints popping like firecrackers. The hall was bigger than he'd thought — big enough for fifty disciples to meditate simultaneously, back when the sect had actually existed. Now it was a monument to entropy: cracked pillars, bird nests in the rafters, and a suspiciously large number of bones in the corner that he decided were definitely animal bones and not failed cultivators.
Priorities. I need priorities.
First: Don't starve. Second: Don't die. Third: Figure out how to summon these "players" before something on this planet ate him.
"System," he said, trying to sound authoritative despite looking like a drowned rat that had been reincarnated as a hobo. "What do I need to activate the first player slot?"
[Requirements:]
[1. Functional Cultivation Chamber — Repair existing chamber (Cost: 50 Spirit Stones) or construct new one (Cost: 200 Spirit Stones)]
[2. Basic Array Formation — Concealment array to hide sect from "indigenous threats" (Cost: 30 Spirit Stones)]
[3. Tutorial NPC Script — You must establish a persona for player interaction]
"And how many Spirit Stones do I have?"
[Current Inventory: 0 Spirit Stones, 3 Moldy Spirit Rice Grains, 1 Half-Eaten Spiritual Herb (possibly poisonous), and a Broken Flying Sword (decorative only).]
Chen Hao looked at the broken sword. It was approximately the length of his forearm and had the structural integrity of wet cardboard. He tried to channel qi into it. The sword made a sad whistling noise and fell apart.
"Okay," he said. "Okay. No problem. I just need to... acquire... fifty Spirit Stones. On a deserted planet. With no cultivation resources. While being Qi Gathering Layer 1."
He looked out the hole in the ceiling. Azure-4's sky was a bruised purple, dominated by a gas giant that took up half the horizon like a cosmic eyeball. Three moons competed for attention, casting conflicting shadows across the landscape. And in the distance, something screamed. It was not a human scream. It was the scream of something that had too many vocal cords and used them all simultaneously.
[Additional Information: Ironblood Mining Corporation has filed eviction notice for sect territory. Estimated arrival of enforcement team: 30 Standard Days.]
[Additional Information: Crystal Mantis migration season begins in 14 Standard Days.]
[Additional Information: You have not eaten in 72 hours.]
Chen Hao sat back down on the moldy cushion.
Then he stood up again, because the cushion was definitely sentient and trying to colonize him.
"New plan," he announced to the empty hall. "I will use my seventeen years of cultivation knowledge. I will use my experience as a failed outer disciple who survived three years of sect politics. I will use my..." he paused, looking at his hands, "...my willingness to do absolutely anything to not die again."
He pointed at the System screen with a finger that trembled only slightly.
"Activate emergency protocols. Whatever you've got. I'm not too proud to beg, borrow, or steal."
[Emergency Protocol Available: "First Blood" Initiative]
[Description: Summon ONE (1) player immediately using degraded connection. Player will experience reduced immersion, increased latency, and possible nausea. Player death is guaranteed due to lack of tutorial preparation.]
[Reward upon player death: Random talent extraction from player profile]
[Warning: Player may leave negative review.]
Chen Hao smiled. It was not a nice smile. It was the smile of a man who had just realized that in a world where everyone was trying to exploit everyone else, he had finally found a way to be at the top of the food chain.
"Do it," he said. "Summon my first disciple."
[Initiating connection...]
[Scanning Earth for compatible consciousness...]
[Target acquired: Kevin Zhang, 22 years old, unemployed, 3,400 hours in competitive MMORPGs, currently browsing "new indie games" tag at 3 AM while eating instant noodles.]
[Selling point identified: "100% realistic cultivation simulator. Permadeath enabled. Exclusive beta access."]
[Connection established.]
[WARNING: Player consciousness incoming in 3... 2... 1...]
The air in the center of the hall rippled like heat haze. Chen Hao stumbled back, tripping over a loose stone and barely catching himself on a pillar that immediately shed a concerning amount of dust.
Light coalesced. Form took shape.
A young man materialized — overweight, wearing a stained t-shirt that read "I Paused My Game To Be Here," holding an invisible bowl and chopsticks that faded as reality asserted itself. He blinked large, myopic eyes behind glasses that the System had thoughtfully replicated.
"Whoa," said Kevin Zhang. "The graphics are sick."
Chen Hao straightened his robes, tried to look mysterious, and immediately sneezed because of the dust.
"Bless you," Kevin said automatically. Then he frowned. "Wait, NPCs can sneeze? That's next-gen AI, bro."
NPC? Chen Hao filed the term away for later analysis.
He summoned every ounce of dignity he possessed, which was approximately half an ounce, and spoke in the deepest voice he could manage: "Welcome, traveler from beyond the stars. I am Chen Hao, last master of the Heavenly Jade Sect. You have been chosen to—"
"Yeah yeah, quest dialogue," Kevin interrupted, waving his hand. The gesture made his character model clip slightly through his own shoulder. "Skip. Where's the character creator? I want to be a sword cultivator. Big sword. Glowing. Maybe ice powers?"
Chen Hao's eye twitched.
[System Alert: Player is attempting to access non-existent character creation menu.]
[Suggestion: Improvise.]
"Your... your body has been predetermined by the heavens," Chen Hao said, thinking fast. "Your spiritual root is... uh... the Common Wood Root. Very rare. Very... wooden."
Kevin squinted at him. "That sounds like the starter class."
"It is the foundation of infinite potential!"
"Starter class," Kevin confirmed, sighing. "Whatever. How do I check my stats?"
Chen Hao gestured vaguely. "Simply... will your status to appear?"
Kevin frowned, concentrating. Then his eyes went wide.
"Oh dude. There's like... smell? I can smell the mold. This is better than Neuralink promised. Okay, okay, what's the combat system? Where's the tutorial?"
The tutorial, Chen Hao thought, is that you're going to die in approximately six hours, and I'm going to loot your "Gaming Reflexes" talent.
But he smiled, channeling every deceitful elder who had ever sent him on "spiritual errands" that were actually suicide missions.
"Your first trial," Chen Hao announced, "is to gather Spirit Herbs from the Valley of Whispering Winds. Three herbs. Return them to me, and you shall officially join the Heavenly Jade Sect."
He didn't mention that the Valley was currently home to a nest of Void Puppies.
Void Puppies sounded cute. They were not. They were called puppies because they were the size of adult wolves, had six legs, and their "playful" behavior involved disemboweling things.
Kevin, bless his ignorant soul, pumped his fist. "Gathering quest! Classic! This is going to be easy XP."
He turned to leave, then paused. "Hey, uh, Master Chen? Is there, like, a logout button? My mom said if I'm not up for breakfast she's gonna throw out my graphics card."
Chen Hao's smile froze.
[System Alert: Player is attempting to access logout function.]
[Logout function unavailable: Player consciousness is physically hosted in local reality. Return to Earth requires player death or cultivation to Foundation Establishment (estimated time: 3-6 months).]
"Logging out," Chen Hao said carefully, "is only possible when you have achieved... enlightenment. Or completed the main storyline."
Kevin squinted at him. "That's... that's just bad game design, man."
"Welcome," Chen Hao said, "to hardcore mode."
Kevin shrugged. "Eh. I've played Rust. I can handle it. See you in ten minutes with those herbs!"
He jogged out of the hall, his character model occasionally stuttering as the degraded connection struggled to keep up.
Chen Hao watched him go. Then he sat down on the floor, because his legs were shaking.
[Player Status: Kevin Zhang]
[Health: 100/100]
[Cultivation: None]
[Talents: Gaming Reflexes (F-Grade), Pattern Recognition (F-Grade), Extreme Luck (???-Grade — Error: Cannot parse)]
[Estimated Time of Death: 4-6 hours]
"Extreme Luck?" Chen Hao asked, staring at the error message.
[Unknown variable. Player may survive longer than projected. Recommend sending additional players to ensure at least one death for talent extraction.]
Chen Hao looked at his remaining nine player slots, currently locked behind a paywall of Spirit Stones he didn't have.
He looked at the door Kevin had exited through, beyond which lay a planet actively trying to kill everything.
He looked at his hands — the hands of a failed cultivator who had been given a second chance through the most unethical, exploitative, downright evil system imaginable.
Then Chen Hao smiled for real.
"System," he said. "Open the quest design interface. If I'm going to run a death trap disguised as a video game... I'm going to make it a good death trap."
[Access granted. Welcome, Sect Master.]
[Achievement Unlocked: First Blood (Pending)]
[New Objective: Survive long enough to become the villain these players deserve.]
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[End of Chapter 1]
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