Qin Lu transmigrated into a dangerous cultivation world, inhabiting the body of a 35-year-old middle-aged man buried in debt. No background, no resources, and mediocre talent. He thought he was doomed. But then, he awakened a Proficiency Panel. As long as he practices, his skills improve. There are no bottlenecks, only the grind.
A simple [Ignition Technique] meant for lighting stoves? Grandmaster Level: It becomes the Fire Fist that incinerates armies. A weak [Finger Flick] used to kill flies? Grandmaster Level: It evolves into an Air Cannon that snipes enemies from miles away. A common [Body Shield]? Grandmaster Level: It becomes an Absolute Defense that ignores all attacks.
While others fight for resources, Qin Lu stays home, grinds his skills, and hoards his wealth. He wants to keep a low profile, but the world is cruel. Gang wars, arrogant young masters, and ruthless cultivators force his hand. “I just want to live forever,” Qin Lu sighs as he turns a foundation establishment cultivator into ash with a snap of his fingers. “Why do you force me to kill you?”
10 miles outside the Imperial Capital, the air in the military encampment was thick with the smell of sweat, fear, and cheap stew. Dou Wen sat cross-legged on the dirt, a piece of tattered cloth in his hand. He methodically wiped the tip of his spear, polishing the cold steel until it gleamed. Around him, soldiers shoveled rice into their mouths as if they were starving ghosts. They ate with desperate urgency, wolfing down every grain. Their eyes, however, darted
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