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?”
“You actually have some skill for a piece of filth.” Qin Lu stared at the middle-aged man in the red robe, his voice dripping with glacial disdain. The Blood Cultivator stood amidst the wreckage, a look of sinister amusement plastered on his face. Around him, vibrant lines of fresh blood swirled and danced like living vipers, weaving together to form a pulsating crimson shield. At his feet lay two corpses dressed in identical robes. Their heads had been severed cleanly
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