"It wasn't pain I felt first... but weight. The crushing weight of existence itself."
The light wasn't strong; instead, it was faint, as if the room stubbornly refused to reveal its full details. Above him, the ceiling was intricately adorned with ancient carvings of swords intersecting in spiritual circles. A subtle, barely discernible energy emanated from them, yet he could feel it... deep in his bones.
Darkness filled the space, silent and dense, as though the universe had simply stopped breathing. Then, suddenly, as if someone had torn a veil from his consciousness, he opened his eyes.
Or rather, the eyes of the disciple whose body he now inhabited.
"Where... am I?"
His voice emerged hoarse, as if his throat hadn't been used in days. He tried to sit up, but his chest screamed with a strange pain, and his shoulders felt immensely heavy, as though burdened by invisible weights. He cast his gaze down at his body…
This body was not his.
His hands were long, his fingers slightly more slender than he was accustomed to. His skin was pale, and faint scars marred his left forearm.
He slowly sat up on the bed, his heart pounding wildly. The air he breathed was unfamiliar… unnaturally pure, imbued with an energy he couldn't name.
He rose, staggering, until he stood before a small mirror hanging on the opposite wall. He stared at the face that wasn't his own...
"This... this body… I've seen it somewhere before?!"
Gray eyes with pupils as precise as a sword's edge, long black hair cascaded over his back and shoulders, thin lips, and handsome, youthful features... but there was something broken in those eyes.
Something that didn't belong to him... yet he could feel it.
His mind was reeling.
This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a virtual reality game. He was in a body that wasn't his. He slowly and deliberately looked around the room.
The room was serene, crafted from pure white wood, emanating a faint scent of ice flowers. An open window offered a view of a snow-capped mountain, and a high ceiling from which a dimly lit spiritual lantern hung.
"This... it can't be..." he murmured, slowly comprehending the truth he had tried to deny.
He had transmigrated. Literally.
He knew this room... this was the "Second-Grade Disciple Room" on the Eternal Sword Peak.
"I'm... inside the novel...? Inside the body of the third villain...?"
He suddenly remembered Li Ming, the character killed in Chapter Nine?!
His breathing began to quicken, his mind spinning between the threads of logic and madness.
"No, no, no... this is illogical. Even if I were dreaming, this is far too detailed. The scent of this place... the rough feel of the floor... even the pain is real."
He sat on the edge of the bed. His heart pounded violently, his hand trembled.
The memory of that novel was vivid in his mind; he had read it just a few days prior. A story about the rise of an unbeatable protagonist, crushing enemies one after another, assembling a harem of women, and fighting battles across sects and higher realms.
Yes, as you might expect, it was a novel with a female protagonist who gathers a harem of girls – a Yuri story.
But the character he had transmigrated into? He was a nobody. A disciple named Li Ming, belonging to the Eternal Sword Peak, a sect of the Profound Sky Realm. A naive, contemptible side character who had scorned the original protagonist, only to be mercilessly annihilated in Chapter Nine.
And suddenly... a wave.
A wave of memories, cold as glacial water, surged into his brain like a dagger thrust.
Images... emotions... sounds…
His antagonistic stance with the five sisters on the Peak. – His arrogant gaze towards the Peak Master, who refused to train him. – His haughty actions that made him an outcast even among the disciples.
Peak Master Lin Yue's cold eyes as she turned her back on him.
The curses of the disciples whispering behind his back: "Rotten scum... how is he still on the Peak?"
Attempts at harassment, manipulation, deceit…
Li Ming gasped, clutching his head in pain as the memories engulfed him all at once. They weren't his memories, but they were vivid… real. His body remembered, and his soul resisted.
He felt nauseous. He nearly vomited from the filth of memories he hadn't lived, but which now resided within his body.
"I am not him...."
He sat cross-legged, trying to calm his breathing.
He used a simple breathing exercise he employed in his real world.
He focused on the sensation of his body, the bed beneath him, the coolness in the air.
He closed his eyes.
"I won't act rashly. There's no need to panic. The fact remains that I've transmigrated; anything else will only confuse me." He felt a sense of relaxation wash over him, having shed the disturbing feeling that had plagued him.
Just as his heart settled slightly…
He slowly stood up and walked to the mirror made of spiritual crystal.
He saw an unbelievably handsome face.
His new face looked as if it had stepped right out of a luxurious manhwa illustration.
He realized this body was closer to ideal beauty, but his eyes – despite everything – were empty.
He closed his eyes.
This was a world where only the strong were respected.
And no one here would give him a second chance.
But what had happened? How did he transmigrate? What was the reason for this madness?
Suddenly:
A non-human voice resonated in his head. It was like a blend of an ancient bell and the distant laughter of a young girl.
[Heavenly Emotions System Activated]
"Welcome, Li Ming."
"The more you influence the emotions of others – fear, respect, love, hatred – the more skills and rewards you will gain from all realms and heavens."
[Initial setup beginning now...]
Li Ming froze.
"A system? ...Damn it, I'm in a Xuanhuan novel and I even have a cheat too?!"
A faint smile touched his lips for the first time…
In a world like Xuanhuan... the existence of a system might just be his only lifeline.
And here it was, right before him.
Perhaps, just perhaps, this wasn't the end.
Instead, it was...
The Beginning.