Who Let Him Cultivate？

Chapter 73: Righteous Path Undercover Agent

“Hm? We’re back?” Lu Yang opened his eyes, finding himself deposited once more within the featureless, sterile expanse of the mysterious white space.

Familiar faces dotted the void—Meng Jingzhou, Man Gu, Chi Xulong, Shen Jinyi, and a handful of others. Out of the entire Yanjiang Branch, a mere ten candidates had survived the first two trials. Lu Yang only recognized about half of them; during his brief stint impersonating an examiner, he simply hadn’t had the time to phish the personal data of the rest.

The memories of his flawless execution in the previous trials surfaced: the profound enlightenment of the Mimicry Fist, the tactical acquisition of the potato cart…

“It seems the Immortal Cult’s recruitment pipeline isn’t particularly rigorous,” Lu Yang mused. He considered his own performance to be standard operational procedure. Anyone with a functioning brain stem could have pulled it off.

“My thoughts exactly,” Meng Jingzhou chimed in. “For the first trial, you just let the spider bite you. For the second, you punch that fat guy in the face. Simple.”

Lu Yang gave him a flat, deadpan stare. “Come again? Why are our completion metrics completely different?”

Meng Jingzhou waved a hand with supreme, unearned confidence. “Isn’t it obvious? I clearly triggered the intended solution. You just brute-forced your way through on dumb luck.”

Lu Yang scoffed at the sheer audacity. “Ridiculous. In the first trial, I achieved a martial epiphany and comprehended the Mimicry Fist, perfectly demonstrating my foundational combat aptitude. What did your method demonstrate? A high tolerance for venom? You think the Immortal Cult is recruiting based on who makes the best chew toy? Clearly, my path was the developer’s intended route!”

“I strongly advise you to wake up and face reality.”

Man Gu stood off to the side, watching the two bicker with the intensity of rival scholars debating scripture. He silently reviewed his own methodology. From the spider, he had gleaned the virtue of unyielding perseverance; from the mantis, the tactical necessity of planning before striking. In the second trial, he had applied empathetic reasoning and meticulous execution.

So my approach was just painfully mundane, Man Gu murmured to himself. It seems Brother Lu and Brother Meng are the ones who grasped the true essence of the trials. I just don’t know whose paradigm is superior. He nodded to himself, feeling he had just absorbed another profound life lesson.

Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou’s debate raged on without a victor in sight. Ultimately, it was Man Gu, blessed with the clarity of an outside observer, who cut through the noise.

“Is it possible,” Man Gu began slowly, “that both of your methodologies are correct? The demonic path prides itself on unbridled chaos and absolute freedom. Perhaps there is no standardized rubric. Anything that shatters the parameters of the test is the correct answer.”

Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou paused, staring at Man Gu in mild shock. The barbarian’s logic was terrifyingly sound.

“I didn’t expect a demonic syndicate to have such a progressive, open-ended evaluation system,” Lu Yang praised. Meng Jingzhou nodded in solemn agreement.

“Wait, we’ve only cleared two phases. Why are we back in the lobby? Where’s the third trial?” The trio finally remembered they were in the middle of a high-stakes demonic recruitment drive.

High above, the projection of the Deputy Cult Leader materialized once more. In his hand rested a palm-sized sphere, bisected by a faint, unnatural seam.

He took a single, commanding step through the void. Instantly, the sterile white space fractured and rebuilt itself. Expanding outward from his position, a sprawling metropolis erupted like a tidal wave of stone and timber. Towering city walls, opulent palaces, and intricate courtyard pavilions pierced the sky. Majestic mountains loomed in the distance, while a roaring river carved through the heart of the city. The streets flooded with the hustle of hurried pedestrians, the shouts of hawking vendors, and the awe-inspiring presence of cultivators capable of shifting mountains and draining seas. It was a breathtaking, fully realized Cultivation mega-city.

With a wave of his hand, the Deputy Cult Leader sorted the candidates into their respective regional cohorts. The ten survivors of the Yanjiang Branch found themselves seated within an elegant, multi-story pavilion that offered a sweeping panoramic view of the bustling streets below.

The Deputy Cult Leader’s voice echoed in their minds, devoid of all warmth. “Congratulations on surviving the preliminary screening. We will now commence the third phase of your evaluation.”

“You are currently situated within a simulated urban environment. Shortly, I will strip away your inhibitions and unleash your true, unvarnished natures. This primal state will compel you to perceive this illusion as absolute reality, driving you to commit the atrocities you secretly harbor in your darkest depths.”

“Your performance metrics are simple: the greater the scale of your destruction, the higher your final evaluation. You have exactly twenty-four hours. Begin.”

With those chilling words, the Deputy Cult Leader hoisted the sphere. The seam split open with a sickening, fleshy tear, revealing a bottomless, abyssal pupil.

It was no sphere at all—it was a colossal, disembodied eye!

As the giant eye snapped fully open, a wave of sickly, iridescent purple light washed over the metropolis, bathing the world in an eerie, maddening glow.

***

Back in the physical realm of the Immortal Cult’s headquarters, the Deputy Cult Leader’s consciousness returned to his body. He cradled the grotesque giant eye in his palms.

“Truly worthy of an artifact forged by the Indestructible Immortal himself,” he murmured in reverence. “The human heart is a labyrinth of deceit. Only a supreme immortal treasure possesses the sheer cosmic authority to bypass those defenses and drag a mortal’s darkest impulses into the light.”

With palpable reluctance, the Deputy Cult Leader handed the immortal eye back to the Cult Leader. Opportunities to wield a primordial artifact of such ineffable power were agonizingly rare.

Strictly speaking, his security clearance did not permit him to handle the immortal eye. The Cult Leader had only temporarily transferred authorization to him to facilitate the launch of the third trial.

The Cult Leader accepted the artifact, his expression grave. “This third phase is our most critical operational safeguard. It is the ultimate firewall against righteous path infiltrators attempting to embed themselves within our ranks.”

“The immortal eye strips away all psychological masking. Righteous path cultivators are fundamentally burdened by their moral compasses. Under the absolute illumination of the immortal eye, those hypocrites won’t even be able to force themselves to commit basic murder and arson!”

“Worse yet, their bleeding-heart programming will compel them to actively intervene when they witness acts of extreme violence. It is the perfect behavioral filter to weed out the spies hidden among our applicants!”

After all, the absolute baseline requirement for joining the Immortal Cult was a verified lack of affiliation with the righteous factions.

The Deputy Cult Leader smiled, thoroughly impressed by the corporate synergy. “And since the immortal eye automatically scales and calculates each candidate’s destructive output relative to their cultivation base, the grading process is entirely automated. We merely need to sit back and review the final analytics.”

***

Schlick—!

A pedestrian’s chest cavity was violently ventilated by a thrusting blade. The surrounding crowd erupted into a cacophony of terrified screams, scattering like frightened livestock.

Standing amidst the spraying crimson was a demonic path Rogue Cultivator, his head thrown back in manic, unhinged laughter. Drunk on the intoxicating freedom of his unleashed nature, he waded into the fleeing masses, his blade a blur of lethal steel. Heads rolled across the cobblestones, and dismembered corpses piled up in his wake.

“Exhilarating! Absolutely exhilarating!” the Rogue Cultivator roared. Never in his life had he been permitted to slaughter with such glorious impunity. Euphoria surged through his meridians. “Today, your pathetic corpses shall serve as the stepping stones for my glorious career in the Immortal Cult!”

He gripped his blood-drenched sword, fully intending to maximize his kill count and secure a top-tier performance review.

“Halt your villainy!” A heavy spear materialized out of nowhere, striking the Rogue Cultivator’s sword with a deafening clang of steel and a shower of sparks, violently deflecting the lethal blow.

The Rogue Cultivator stumbled back, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the interloper. “Well, well. If it isn’t Fang Hao. You always played the part of the cold, ruthless killer so perfectly. I genuinely thought you were a hardened demonic brother. Turns out you’re just a righteous path lapdog.”

Fang Hao gritted his teeth, desperately trying to suppress the surging spiritual qi in his meridians. His rational mind screamed at him that this was a critical juncture—he could not blow his cover, or years of meticulous deep-cover operations would go up in smoke. But beneath the maddening purple glow of the immortal eye, all psychological conditioning and rational thought were rendered utterly void.

The sight of the Rogue Cultivator’s wanton slaughter triggered a visceral, righteous fury within him. Every fiber of his being demanded that he purge this evil!

It was a primordial impulse, an absolute moral imperative that no amount of logic could restrain.

With a furious battle cry, Fang Hao lunged. Spear and sword clashed in a flurry of lethal strikes, the two cultivators locked in a deadly stalemate amidst the simulated carnage.

***

“I knew it! A righteous path rat!” the Deputy Cult Leader snarled, slamming his fist down. If not for the rigorous screening of the third phase, this Fang Hao would have successfully infiltrated the Immortal Cult’s ranks!

The Cult Leader’s gaze was as cold as the deepest glacial abyss. “I trust I do not need to explain the protocol for this.”

The Deputy Cult Leader nodded sharply. “Understood. I will issue the termination order to the Huangyue Branch Leader immediately. We’ll execute him on the spot!”

“Execute my ass!” the Cult Leader roared, his majestic aura shattering into sheer exasperation. “Send an emergency encrypted missive to the Huangyue Branch Leader! Tell them their operational coordinates have been compromised! Tell them to pack up the entire base and evacuate immediately!”

“Ah?” The Deputy Cult Leader blinked, utterly dumbfounded.

The Cult Leader glared at him with the profound disappointment of a CEO dealing with an incompetent middle manager. “What do you mean, ‘ah’? If Fang Hao managed to infiltrate the recruitment drive, it means the righteous factions already have the Huangyue Branch’s exact geographical coordinates! Do you want them to sit there and wait to be raided?!”

“But… what about Fang Hao?”

“We absolutely cannot kill him! The righteous sects undoubtedly have his soul lamp safely stored in their ancestral halls. The second we terminate him, his lamp shatters, and they’ll know their asset has been burned! They’ll launch a preemptive strike on the Huangyue Branch before our people even have time to pack their spatial rings!”

“Oh.”