The Empty Secret Record

A heretical sect whose entire practice centers on a single teaching: only fear itself can become the most terrible of fiends. To cultivate, its disciples commit every conceivable outrage designed to startle and terrify other cultivators — an extreme heretical order devoted to pure malice.

A demonic sect whose teaching holds that the demonic nature is fixed at birth and only grows filthier with age. Because the order believes the earlier you cultivate, the better, its disciples use secret arts from childhood to halt their own growth and cultivate through the pure blood of young boys and girls — an extreme demonic order of the worst kind.

"Why the hell do the two options that just popped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up look like this?"

A heretical sect of professional scumbags who specialize in every kind of outrageous stunt? What exactly had they done to make even fellow heretical sects — and demonic ones on top of that — feel embarrassed by them? And the system was sitting there recommending this garbage!

As for the other one, the unlock conditions alone were enough to piss me off. I could turn myself hundreds of meters tall with a transformation skill if I wanted to, you know?!

The moment I pictured an entire sect of demonic cultivators stuck in the bodies of little kids, any urge to pick it evaporated on the spot.

That said, choosing the professional-outrage sect didn't exactly thrill me either.

"Should I just roll random…"

Whatever came up had to be better than these two, right?

"I'd love some advice, but my prisoner Cheon Nan-cho is mid-region-transfer so I can't pull her out… Hmm… Known Cosmos mode!"

I tried activating a mod that turned certain eok-kka events into selectable choices instead of roulette spins or pure random rolls — but it didn't even trigger. All it did was burn slaughter energy for nothing.

That made three failed attempts to force a random result into a choice. With a sigh, I accepted the fact that I was going to have to pure-gamble on raw luck.

"Random selection."

Please! Just let me pick a normal sect! Hell, I'd settle for a cancel button — but this was a confirmed Xianxia Mode event, so cancel wasn't an option.

"If I land something weird, I'll just wipe the sect and move to a different map."

"What the hell is this… fucking no-name nobody sect."

And what was with the relationship status being ???? Not even "none" — just ???. And where the hell was my cool, stern, solemn master from the random roll, the senior disciples who'd joined before me, the vast sect backing, the resources, the quests? All of it gone. All that was left was some weird book.

"Seven lines of options…?"

What kind of balance-breaking item was this? No — it was a Xianxia Mode item, so maybe this was allowed…? Wait, this dumpster-fire of a game usually exploded whenever a mod item's option count exceeded the code limit and collided with other mods. How the hell had it gotten past five lines?!

The moment the sect was selected — and while I was still spacing out — the region transfer finished. A sudden, massive drain of slaughter energy tore through me in a wave of agony that made my whole body thrash.

"Kyaaaaaaah!"

Shit! I'm dying! What the hell is this?!

I frantically turned my spiritual sense inward and found my spiritual root — my innate ability ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— devouring slaughter energy in enormous gulps. The slaughter core I'd formed at Core Formation was buckling under the load, ready to scatter at any second. On pure instinct, I pulled out the Wheel.

I dropped a full ten levels at once, wringing out every scrap of slaughter energy I could to try to satisfy the spiritual root — and my instincts told me it wasn't even close.

Drop any further and I'd fall from mid-stage Core Formation back to early stage, which would only make things worse. That much I could feel. With a flicker of hesitation, I realized the slaughter energy I'd traded my levels for was almost gone — and in a panic, I finally pulled out my residual stat points.

The Wheel spun at a terrifying speed.

Residual stats — the infinitely compressed essence of slaughter energy, practically shards of a forbidden elixir — burned away permanently, generating a vast surge of temporary slaughter energy. Only after the spiritual core swallowed every last drop of it did I collapse, gasping, my legs giving out under me.

Shit. I really thought I was going to die.

"Status Window…!!!!"

Furious to know what the hell had made my innate ability throw this kind of tantrum, I shouted for the Status Window. The last scraps of slaughter energy burned away, and a Status Window that looked distinctly different from before floated up in front of me.

The plummeted level and the residual stats that had vanished without a trace were one thing — but the Status Window had gotten a lot more crowded. The UI, which used to be so translucent it was hard to read, had cleaned itself up into something sleek and familiar.

Class, Race, and Title had all been added. Titles I could write off — that was a community-made achievement-tracking mod from the game — but the rest…

I started tapping through them one by one, determined to find out what had just eaten that mountain of slaughter energy.

"Wait — so then… map rename?"

Full map ownership had transferred to me.

This map — a place that looked worse than a barren ruin, with nothing but four low hills that resembled burial mounds — was mine.

I could feel a whole wave of new mods activating without even opening the mod list to check. Just looking at how polished the Status Window and system messages had become, the UI mods were clearly online, along with class-related mods and map-creator mods all firing up at once.

"As for the race-related mods… hmm… ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠oh… ah…"

I ran through the race mods in my head and remembered that most of them had 18+ tags slapped on — Nude Patch, Beastkin Mode, Dragodian Maid Mode, the Anime Pack, better known as Weeb Mode, and so on.

I had zero intention of applying any of that to my body! And 18+ mods didn't work under the Reality Patch anyway.

Don't you dare call me a minor just based on how I look!!!!

I'll have you know! Even subtracting the time I burned in the Training Ground and the time I burned on Double Speed Mod, I've lived well over a hundred years! So why the hell am I a minor!!!!

For the record, this also meant I couldn't use any consumables classified as alcohol.

What a complete dumpster fire of a game.

"Anyway, the fact that this is my owned map means… probably the Base Fortress Management Mod."

A late-game mod made for players who had more money than they knew what to do with — dump astronomical sums into a fully scouted map, claim it as your own, and build a base on it.

I remembered it being pretty popular for the map-decorating fun, the quality-of-life boosts, and the added invasion and base events. Looking at it now, the Reality Patch and Xianxia Mode had clearly put their fingerprints all over it.

Having my own map meant dumping all that slaughter energy, levels, and residual stats hadn't been a total waste!

As for money, I still had plenty of spirit stones from the Abyss sitting in my inventory — I could've just spent money…!

"Hey, Cheon Nan-cho."

"Hm? What is it?"

"…Where are my spirit stones?"

"I was gonna eat them anyway, so I stuck them in my bag?"

She'd dumped all my money into the prisoner bag so the system couldn't even recognize it?!