These guys... man, they were really useless.
Not in a malicious way, mind you. Just... normal people. Average humans tossed into a chaotic forest world that made zero sense. What could they do, really? Pray? Build crossbows with no proper ore? Worship me like some kind of wild god?
Actually… that last part was hilarious.
They'd made another shrine. Then a temple. On me.
No, seriously.
A big ol' structure right outside the survivor shelter, with my carved face looking like some stoic mountain god. They used wood, bark, and whatever metal scraps they could find to build altars. They even burned incense—which I'm pretty sure they made by smashing berries and pretending it was ceremonial .well both 3 of figures looked like...
I didn't stop them. Hell, I kinda enjoyed it.
So when Philip looked at me, all teary-eyed, while I looted half their clean clothes, I just smiled.
"Sir… are you going to leave us?" he asked, voice trembling like a schoolteacher watching their best student drop out to become a rock star.
"Yup."
No dramatic pause. No hesitation.
He nodded like a man who'd just accepted a divine decree. The other survivors stood around the temple's edge, whispering like I was ascending to heaven.
And just like that, I left.
No speeches. No promises. Just a backpack filled with clean clothes, a bunch of stolen socks, and the vague memory of Philip's heartbroken expression.
[Day 2415]
Before heading to the marked black spot on my map—the one I found ages ago—I decided to take a little detour.
Call it nostalgia. Call it sentiment. Call it whatever. I wanted to revisit some places.
First up was the old base where Aldrick and I had camped. Nothing special. Just a few collapsed logs, some scattered bones, and moss-covered trash. Looked like time forgot about it. I didn't stay long.
Then I walked to my first-ever home in this world. The shack. My glorious, smelly, makeshift, rat-infested shack.
Damn, the smell hit me like a punch to the gut.
Memories came flooding back—me fumbling with matches, nearly burning down the place, panicking over the first beast core I absorbed like I'd just downed raw plutonium.
I dug up the stash I'd buried under a rock. Gold, jewelry, some loose wires I kept for reasons that probably made sense back then. Into the black ring they went.
Then I moved on.
[Day 2500]
I'd been traveling non-stop. Forests, hills, weird rivers with glowing fish. Every day I killed beasts, harvested cores, and skipped meals I probably should've eaten.
At this point, I'd stockpiled:
600 red cores (Tier One, probably useless at this point)
230 gray ones (Not bad. Nice mid-tier energy)
100 transparent cores (Now these were tasty. Pure, clean, and potentially explosive if misused. Love 'em.)
I didn't absorb any for now. I had this growing suspicion that this world was more stitched-together than a grandma's quilting contest. The sky, for example? Never moved. The sun? Same spot. Moon? Changed phases but didn't move—like it was some bad 3D skybox in an early 2000s video game.
Real subtle, Cultivator God™. Real subtle.
I swear, if this turns out to be some old cultivator's "inner world" where I'm being secretly watched by a smug soul fragment hoping I'll become his next disciple…
I'll set the damn sky on fire.
[Day 2540]
The deeper I went, the weirder the forest became.
It was like someone took five different biomes and mashed them together without checking compatibility. Pine trees gave way to tropical banana groves. Then randomly, there were crooked silver trees shaped like question marks. One had mushrooms growing upside down.
I started calling this area the "Patchwork Forest."
Every now and then I'd see wild beasts—giant elephants with tusks like train rails, massive boars with armored hides, birds the size of cars. Most didn't bother me. The few that tried?
Let's just say they added to my core collection.
Most didn't even have cores. Just flesh, muscle, and attitude.
They charged, I slapped. End of story.
[Day 2550]
It rained today. Cold, steady, annoying. The kind that soaks into your socks and makes your boots squelch.
But I was here.
The marked spot on my map. The one that had been sitting in the corner of my HUD for so long that I almost forgot it existed.
And it was… a ruin.
Of course it was a ruin. This is a cultivation knockoff world, after all. If I wasn't standing in front of some crumbled stone temple with mysterious carvings and an ominous aura, I'd ask for a refund on this whole transmigration package.
The place looked ancient. Columns half-toppled. Vines strangling statues of unknown beasts. Stone steps leading downward into darkness.
No sign. No welcome mat. Just an open invitation to the classic "Here lies the inheritance of a forgotten god-king" trope.
I took a breath, pulled out a flashlight, and muttered:
"If I find a jade slip with a forbidden technique sealed by bloodline requirement, I'm punching the universe."
And down I went.
But that's a story for tomorrow.
Tonight? I sleep under a half-rotted archway with a full stomach, clean socks, and 1000+ cores to keep me warm.
Oh, and before I forget—I did open the transmigration chat again. Just a blank list. My name still on it: Kaiser(1).
No one else. No replies.
It's lonely being the only guy left from a multi-world forum.
But hey.
At least I'm stylish now.