Rebirth as a Demonic Cultivator: Starting with a Zombie Planet

Chapter 3: So Quiet, and You Still Want to Be a Zombie?

The Blood Transformation Spirit Stealing Art was divided into nine layers.

Mastering the first layer corresponded to the first level of Qi Condensation. By extension, the ninth layer equated to the ninth level of Qi Condensation.

Levels one through three were considered the early stage of Qi Condensation; four through six, the middle stage; and seven through nine, the late stage.

Chu Xuan had currently mastered the fourth layer, placing him squarely in the middle stage of Qi Condensation. Breaking through to the fifth layer would advance his cultivation and unlock new spells.

More importantly, Zombies were not considered human. Slaughtering them wouldn’t draw the wrath of the Heavenly Dao!

Excellent.

A perfect loophole.

Chu Xuan suddenly realized he had stumbled into a paradise.

Whether he practiced his blood arts, cultivated gu insects, concocted poisons, or refined corpses and puppets, he no longer needed to worry about finding living resources.

Weren’t these countless, roaming Zombies just natural flesh vessels and raw materials ripe for the taking?

“Besides, with my current cultivation, returning to the Cangxuan Continent would still be a death sentence,” he muttered. “But on this planet? I am a god who holds the power of life and death.”

A cold smile crept onto his face.

He could stay here, farm these Zombies, and diligently level up his demonic arts. Returning could wait until he possessed true power.

“Time to gather more stock.”

Strolling down the ruined streets, Chu Xuan quickly settled on a five-story shopping center to serve as his temporary base.

“Little Runfa Mall…” He glanced at the faded billboard before striding through the shattered glass doors.

The first floor was crawling with Zombies, aimlessly wandering and groaning. The moment Chu Xuan stepped inside, dozens of dead eyes locked onto him.

An instant later, the horde charged.

Chu Xuan’s smile widened into something genuinely delighted. “Don’t rush, don’t rush. There’s plenty to go around.”

***

A short while later, on the fifth floor.

Chu Xuan stood before six display bathtubs, all brimming to the edge with thick, dark blood. The slight fatigue on his face from manually bleeding so many corpses was entirely overshadowed by a look of deep gratification.

This much blood would sustain his cultivation for a long time.

“Still, manual bloodletting is too inefficient. It’s time to refine a few Yin Corpses to handle the heavy lifting.”

He had scoured the mall but failed to find a single suitable candidate.

High-tier corpse refinement required a powerful foundation—preferably a corpse with bulging muscles and deep-seated resentment. Once refined, such a Yin Corpse would possess boundless strength and a ferocious aura, easily dominating enemies in combat.

But the Zombies in this mall? Calling them ‘able-bodied’ would be a generous lie. They were withered, emaciated husks. Most of them didn’t even have the energy to muster a proper groan.

Barely a whisper out of them, and they call themselves Zombies? Chu Xuan shook his head like a disappointed manager reviewing a terrible batch of employees.

“Forget it. I’ll rest for now and scout the surrounding blocks later. There has to be some sturdy stock out there.”

Dragging a lounge chair into the clearing, Chu Xuan lay down.

He wasn’t the least bit worried about a sneak attack. The Blood Steel Wire coiled invisibly around him, standing guard. If a Zombie lunged, the wire’s automated reaction speed was far faster than his own.

For the past year in the cultivation world, he had lived on a knife’s edge, spending every waking moment evading the righteous sects’ relentless pursuit. His calm, collected demeanor was nothing but a carefully maintained mask. In that cutthroat environment, absolute, cold rationality was the only way to survive.

Now, finally granted a moment of true peace, the accumulated exhaustion crashed over him.

He closed his eyes and slept.

***

Elsewhere, just outside the Little Runfa Mall.

Two figures crept through the shadows. The leader, Tang Hu, was a heavily muscled brute. Trailing behind him was a scrawny, nervous man.

“Brother Hu,” the skinny man whispered, his voice trembling. “Just give the word. As long as you can cure my mom, I’ll do anything!”

A flicker of mockery crossed Tang Hu’s eyes. He patted the man’s shoulder. “Relax. I’m not sending you to your death. There’s still food in this mall. You just need to draw the Zombies’ attention while I sweep the shelves. If you get surrounded, don’t panic—I’ll pull you out.”

The skinny man nodded vigorously. “Okay. I trust you.”

Clutching a rusted water pipe, he carefully slipped into the mall.

Moments later, his clumsy movements drew the attention of a nearby horde. Only then did Tang Hu confidently stride into the building, bypassing the danger.

Without missing a beat, Tang Hu began sweeping canned goods, medical supplies, and other long-lasting resources into his heavy backpack.

Suddenly, a panicked shriek echoed from the aisles.

“Brother Hu! There’s too many! Help me!”

The skinny man was backed into a corner, completely surrounded by snarling Zombies, his face pale with terror.

Tang Hu let out a dark chuckle, his hands never stopping as he continued tossing supplies into his bag. He didn’t even glance in the man’s direction.

“Brother Hu! Save me!” the skinny man screamed, his eyes bloodshot with despair.

Tang Hu smirked. “Oh, I forgot to mention something. Your mother died yesterday. The Spirit Dog Gang isn’t going to waste precious medicine on a useless sixty-year-old hag.”

The skinny man froze, his eyes widening in absolute shock.

Taking advantage of his distraction, a Zombie lunged forward and sank its rotting teeth into his chest.

“I only brought you to Little Runfa to squeeze one last drop of use out of you,” Tang Hu sneered. “You’ve been my meat shield plenty of times already. What’s one more?”

He let out a raspy laugh. “Thanks for drawing the aggro. Oh, and don’t worry about that little sister of yours. I’ll take real good care of her.”

The scrawny man was quickly buried under a pile of rotting bodies. The bloodthirsty monsters tore chunks of flesh from his screaming form.

Using his final, dying breath, he roared, “Tang Hu! Even as a ghost, I’ll come back for you!”

“Good, good, good,” Tang Hu chuckled. “Come find me when you actually turn into one.”

The bloody commotion on the first floor acted like a dinner bell, drawing more and more Zombies from the upper levels. Some even threw themselves over the railings, plummeting down to join the feast.

Seeing his path clear, Tang Hu’s greed flared. Scavengers rarely dared to venture past the first floor due to the dense Zombie population. The upper floors were guaranteed to be a goldmine.

“Jackpot!” Tang Hu muttered, his eyes practically glowing green with greed as he bypassed the second floor and headed straight for the fifth.

Just as he expected, the stairwell was completely empty.

However, the moment he stepped onto the fifth floor, he froze.

The floor was littered with Zombie corpses. Judging by the slightly tacky, half-dried blood, they had been slaughtered recently.

Did someone beat me up here?

Tang Hu scanned the area, his gaze locking onto an open clearing. There, sitting incongruously in the middle of the apocalypse, was a lounge chair.

A young man in bizarre, archaic robes was fast asleep on it.

Surrounding the sleeping youth were six bathtubs, all filled to the brim with dark crimson blood.

The sheer surreal horror of the scene made Tang Hu swallow hard.

Then, his eyes darted to the side. “Food!”

Dozens of pristine canned goods sat neatly stacked near the young man. Greed instantly overrode his caution. Tang Hu crept forward and began frantically stuffing the cans into his backpack.

“Your physique is quite good.”

The calm, deadpan voice echoed through the silent floor.

Tang Hu jumped out of his skin. Ripping a machete from his belt, he spun around and slashed viciously at the voice.

Clang!

The sound of metal striking metal rang out.

A violent shockwave traveled up the blade, numbing Tang Hu’s hand so badly he nearly dropped the machete.

He stumbled back, looking up to see the young man standing there, watching him with intense interest.

The youth’s gaze was deeply unsettling. He wasn’t looking at Tang Hu like a fellow survivor, or even a human being. He was looking at him the way a butcher looks at a prime cut of meat.

But what truly made Tang Hu’s blood run cold was the young man’s hand. Coiled in his palm, a long, blood-red worm was writhing lazily.

Tang Hu gulped. Since the apocalypse began, the world had been flooded with terrifying mutations. Anyone who could coexist with a parasitic blood-worm was absolutely not someone to mess with.

Knowing when he was beaten, Tang Hu slowly lowered his backpack and raised both hands in the air.

“Boss, the supplies are all yours,” he said, forcing a subservient smile. “My brother-in-law is Boss Zhao Hong. Let’s talk this out like civilized men.”