I Couldn't Cry

Getting back to the first map marked on my minimap took a genuinely, absurdly long time. Of course it did — I had to retrace every single map I'd climbed through to get this far.

If a map was already scouted and I could just fly straight through without anything happening, that was absurdly good luck. If an event did trigger but I managed to resolve it and push on even after burning some time, that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠still counted as lucky.

Getting stuck on unscouted maps when events blew up and dragged things out — that was bad luck. And since I was heading into low-level territory, quest NPCs kept popping up along the way. Having to take their missions and clear them ate time, but that wasn't really a bad thing.

Except for the part where just as many neutral NPCs were spawning alongside those quest NPCs, and every one of them felt like an Eok-kka event waiting to detonate!

The maps were so low-level that even when I wrapped myself in Slaughter Tribulation and killing intent, the neutral NPCs didn't run. They came swarming in like cockroaches, screaming about vanquishing evil. I'd killed more than a few of them out of pure shock.

Where the hell did they get the confidence to charge me?

Either way, the further down I dropped into low-level maps, the more exponentially the monsters and NPCs multiplied. I could feel it.

At this level of map, even if a neutral NPC yanked an Eok-kka event trigger, I had more than enough power to walk out of it unscathed. So I tried to ignore them and push through as much as possible.

Nearly ninety percent of my stats tanked. Half my Slaughter Tribulation locked down. Every skill but one sealed shut. The usual level penalty.

Other games jacked up monster levels so returning to earlier maps still felt somewhat challenging. This garbage fire of a game did the opposite — it gutted the player into the dirt to balance the difficulty.

Whether it was the Reality Patch or some quirk of the Xianxia mod's cultivator class, though, the difficulty never quite equalized that far. Weakened or not, I was still a Golden Core cultivator.

Then, the moment I swept the area with my spiritual sense, something bounced it right back.

...?

Why was a Golden Core cultivator parked in a starter map? To repel my spiritual sense like that, they weren't even early Golden Core — they were mid-stage!

And of course, the cultivator who'd clearly clocked my probe came rocketing out toward me in an instant. What the hell? What was I supposed to do? Kill them?!

"Good heavens! That tiny child from back then has already become a senior!"

?

No matter how I looked at it, a field-boss-tier neutral NPC had come flying over with a single green dot in tow. Not a quest NPC — a friendly? Wait. Hold on. Something about this felt familiar.

"The hair tie I gave you is gone! I figured a senior wouldn't need it anymore, of course! Mmph! Mmph!"

I ignored the mid-stage Golden Core senior clamping a hand over that shrieking mouth — my ears were already ringing — and dug through my memory.

Work, damn it. Work, brain!

Hair tie? When had I bought a hair tie...

Ah.

The female cultivator who'd sold me that powerful tendon — my first artifact. My first Dharma Treasure. She'd been late Foundation Establishment back then. Now she was Crystal Formation. Time really had flown.

But why had she turned into a friendly NPC? Had she just been mass-copying internal affection toward me on her own? I distinctly remembered blocking the road, slaughtering neutral NPCs, picking a fight with the guards, and getting taken prisoner.

Anyway. Once the memory clicked, I triggered Emotion Expression: [Greeting] and waved. She wrenched her muffled mouth free with pure force of will.

"You remembered me, Senior! Thanks to you, I caught my master's eye and rose all the way to Crystal Formation!"

"You foolish youngest disciple — close that mouth of yours this instant."

Ah. Master and disciple.

That... yeah. I was a little jealous.

If this was a friendly NPC's master, the odds of a surprise attack or preemptive strike dropped hard. I immediately reeled in every scrap of Slaughter Tribulation and killing intent and bowed my head.

"This junior greets her senior."

"So you still haven't been consumed by the stars. Remarkable mental fortitude. I am Gang So, lord of this Gangso Castle."

Wait — he named the castle after himself? That's... impressively simple. If I killed this cultivator, would the map name change too? It probably would.

I was mid-daydream when a sharp, scorching glare snapped me back. I scrambled to open my mouth.

"I'm Yu Hee. I was just passing through on my way to stop by my hometown for a bit."

"Is that so. Very well. Will you be entering the castle?"

"No. I'd only be a burden. I'll keep ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going as I am."

"Hmm. Fine. Pass through."

The nameless friendly NPC — who'd been trying to wedge herself into the conversation from the middle — got instantly subdued by her master, ear yanked as punishment. I left them behind and crossed straight through Gangso Castle.

Wasn't this supposed to be Ant Forest? Ah — right. I'd torched the whole place with Slaughter Tribulation at the end and converted it into slaughter experience. That tracked.

A wasteland starved of spiritual energy. The first tutorial map. I'd finally arrived. Still had a bit more spiritual energy than my base, though!

The Wheel lifted my body into the air. I triggered Heavenly Slaughter Art to force a combat state, secured the movement-speed boost, and shot across the Wasteland in a blur.

And the place I arrived at was still a ruin — collapsed so thoroughly it didn't even register as a village.

"At first, I thought this world was real too."

I unleashed my Slaughter Tribulation.

Something like the sound of waves reached me from somewhere far off as I manifested the Law itself.

The ruin that had once been a tiny village of fewer than twenty households was swallowed whole by Slaughter Tribulation, then torn free in the hands of my giant-sized form. As I shrank back down, the entire ruined plot of land sat small enough to fit neatly in my two cupped palms.

That was the power of the Law — if your mental strength was sufficient, you could tear free not only yourself and your possessions, but entire stretches of land or mountains where spiritual energy flowed, and shrink or expand them at will.

"It was just a game I already knew."

My natal Dharma Treasure, the Wheel, rose and settled above my head like a halo, turning in a slow rotation. Spiritual power drawn from the Golden Core inside my body poured into the tiny clod of earth in my hands.

"I had to think of all of them as NPCs. Mom, Dad, Uncle Seongmin, the lady next door..."

The neighborhood auntie I'd known since I was a baby — Mom's friend, always around — had died torn apart in my hands.

The kind village chief who'd clapped and called me a prodigy the day I took my first steps had been kicked to pieces and blown apart under my foot.

The village grandmother who'd doted on me like her own granddaughter — so warmly that even after my gender changed, I'd still clung to her without thinking — had been crushed under a building I'd smashed in my rampage.

The uncle who'd always brought me food good for cultivation, ever since I was little and training to become a cultivator. The auntie who was gruff but never failed to slip me something to eat whenever I wandered the village during practice. Big sister Dahye, who always hugged me and told me I was cute.

I killed every last one of them with my own hands.

"They all had to be NPCs. They had to be. That way I could tell myself I wasn't a murderer..."

So I lived with curses hanging off my tongue. I spat irritation and rage over every little thing. I wanted to believe all of it was a game. That way I could blame the game for everything.

"...I'm sorry."

In the end, no matter how hard I tried —

I couldn't shed a single tear.

Because I never bought the Emotion Expression they sold as DLC.

What a fucking garbage game. Trash game. Absolute dogshit game. Piece-of-shit broken game.

"The biggest idiot, the real piece of shit here... is me."

Even while I cursed the game, I was really just carving myself up. I looked away from the comfort of blaming the game and spat insults instead.

For a cultivator who lived hundreds of years lighter than ordinary humans — thousands, tens of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thousands of years beyond that — I told myself it was fine to throw away my humanity. I looked away.

"Yeona. You're right. Just because you're a cultivator doesn't mean there's any real reason you shouldn't live like a human being. Yeah. You're right."

I'd just been too scared to admit it. I'd used being ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a cultivator as a shield and run from it without looking back.

I still carried my past life's memories — but most of those memories were nothing but playing games alone and working. And now, with the warm attention of my parents and the village people layered over them, I found myself swallowing again that childhood resolve: the decision to walk the path of a cultivator.

I held the clod of earth — the ruin, fully refined by spiritual power — in my palm, and opened my mouth.

"Return to Base."

It was with the lives of the village people that I had awakened my spiritual root and been able to walk forward as a cultivator.

So I would keep running without rest.

Not toward the end of this game — but toward the end of the path as a cultivator.