Chapter 160 - 1-3 Video Game Developer in a Cultivation World

Chapter 1: Welcome to the new world, nothing like the old world

James leaned back in his chair as the victory screen flashed on his computer. He sighed, quickly going through the match in his head.

He came to a miserable conclusion; matchmaking would never find true balance.

It seemed to him that now that he'd exhausted all of the classic and good stand-alone single-player games, the online games he'd started to pass the time with all suffered under the same issue. Either the enemy team would have players much better than those on his team, or his team would be much better than that of the enemy. 80% of games seemed either won or lost in the first few seconds of the loading screen, and the other 20% didn't really make up for the deficit.

He groaned as he stood up, bones and muscles creaking from disuse. He left behind his brightly lit study filled with bookshelves, documents and one absolutely gigantic computer. He'd thought that after retiring early at age 30 through some smart investing his life would truly start. But, just as he'd handed in his decommission and withdrawn enough money from his savings account to buy an apartment in Manhattan, the covid pandemic had started and he'd seemingly been stuck in lockdown after lockdown for nigh two years now.

It had been fun at first, he'd been a bit sick of people anyway. He'd had time to go through his backlog of series, movies, books and video games that he hadn't watched, read, or played because he'd been too busy working in an attempt to not have to do so anymore.

That enjoyment had lasted approximately three months. New to the city, having moved from San Francisco where he'd sold his company, he'd been essentially shot in the knee in terms of social prospecting. The lockdowns and general distrust prevented him from truly developing a social circle in his new environment.

He walked to the kitchen, past the marble island and pulled a cold beer out of the fridge. Then he went to sit down on the balcony, from which one could catch a glimpse of Central Park in between the skyscrapers. It was April and the flowers were starting to bloom. People were once again becoming optimistic about perhaps finally being able to live their lives instead of wearing masks everywhere and not being allowed to leave the house in high regularities. Last summer had been a brief reprieve, before back to usual.

"Would be nice," he sighed as he sipped his drink, lying slumped on the couch taking up most of his grey balcony. He'd read all the books, watched all the shows, seen all the movies. His most constant companion throughout the time had been the countless amazing video games he'd played, some of which he'd even gone through several times. That was saying something considering he had a photographic memory. But now, he'd gone through everything... Only the highest-level games could satisfy him now that he'd consumed so many, and those weren't being released quickly enough to keep his attention for even half the time he had on his hands and nothing to do with.

"If this shit doesn't end soon," he muttered, finishing the beer in one go and looking at the aluminium can in his hands. "I don't know what I'll do." He considered for a moment, before deciding that if he hadn't done anything bad during this whole shitshow, he could at least do this. He whipped his arm back and threw the can off the balcony. It didn't fly particularly high before being picked up by one of the extremely powerful gusts of wind so common at this altitude and flying right back in his face.

Everything went black.

-/-

James did not as much awaken with a groan, as with a muffled scream. He didn't know where he was, what he was doing, or what was happening. All he knew was that he couldn't move and that his eyelids felt heavier than dumbbells. He lay there, on what must have been a wooden floor, for several minutes, trying not to suffocate through the difficulty of simple breathing.

Thankfully he started feeling more in his body soon, normalising his air intake and opening his eyes. This didn't necessarily help, however, as the ceiling that he saw above him wasn't even closely related to anything that he would have expected.

With how bad he was feeling he could have rationalised waking up in his bed, or in a hospital. But what greeted his vision once he finally opened his eyes was a circular wooden roof. The symmetry of its beam structure was beautiful, but the simple aesthetics couldn't gloss over the fact that he'd never seen anything like it. He winced as a sharp stab went through his brain. What did he mean that he didn't see anything like it? He clearly had.

What felt like foreign memories assaulted his mind and he instinctively tried to ward them off. It didn't work and he rolled over so that he was lying down on his stomach, and laboriously got on all fours as his subconscious started haltingly interpreting the new information. This new position offered him a new view of the surrounding space, which didn't manage to make him calm down in the slightest.

Sure, it was nice to become more aware of one's surroundings, information was king and all that. However, when the surroundings didn't resemble anything one had ever seen before, this became a bit of an unfortunate view.

James found himself staring at what looked like a traditional Chinese cottage, one of those that he'd seen in some of the period dramas he'd watched. Wooden panelling and intricate honey-comb windows showed that it was a clear day outside. A little beaten-down table with carvings of dragons and tigers and mythical creatures held a series of scrolls and an odd metal box that was absolutely covered in scribbles and was emitting a low white light.

Somehow, without remembering where he'd learnt this information, James knew that the object was called a Room. This was a bit of an unfortunate nomenclature since it seemed that the cottage he was in only consisted of a room as well. There was a little stove with some beaten-up-looking pots and a rickety bed with a mattress made of straw.

"What the fuckkkkk," James groaned as he scrambled around in a circle on all fours to take in the space he'd been seemingly dropped into. "What the fuck!"

Another bout of pain went through his brain, suddenly bringing into his consciousness the desire to look to the left. He turned his head, finding an open roll of parchment on the floor next to what looked like a clay bottle. Not that it would help him any, as the words on it looked to be some sort of foreign language James had never seen in his life. However, from one blink to the next, the squiggles reordered themselves into comprehensible text and he was able to make out the meaning of the tauntingly short message.

I am sorry, sect Elder Qin, but the truth was that I never intended to finish creating the Illusion which would allow me to ascend to the status of an inner disciple. You see, I have been burdened since the first day I can remember with a mysterious illness. An illness that nobody could diagnose, and which seemed to be pulling my soul further and further out of my body every day. I hypothesise that this was the reason why the heavenly energy filled my body so easily, as there was a void to fill. But, the condition makes any such cultivation essentially useless, as there is no point in trying to ascend if one is doomed to disappear. If you've found this note, then I can only assume that the pain has finally reached unbearable levels and that I partook in the last drink to release myself from this suffering.

I am sorry to have used the Illusion Room Sect as a last respite before my imminent demise, but even this apology is fake, as I cannot apologise for what my heart saw as a necessity. To gain a place to live out my last days. The sect has not always been welcoming to an outsider like me, but it has been for the most part peaceful. For that I thank you. It is perhaps ironic to be thanking you for something you never wished to grant, but which I took freely like a thief in the night. I hope that my disciple labour has offset the investment cost of my education. The most valuable thing, the Room, I have left untouched. May another disciple use it to create what I did not.

Yours in regret,

Jin Fan

James finished reading, just in time for the foreign memories, the things that had been trying to penetrate his brain, to finally unfold in his mind, like a flower in spring. James suddenly remembered things he'd never experienced.

Growing up in a small village called Xia Er close to the imperial capital and suffered his entire life from incurable spiritual pain. Realising that he was talented in gathering the heavenly motes which fell from the sky and rejoicing, for to become a cultivator was the greatest honour for a farmer's son such as him. This joy tampered by the diagnosis of inevitable death. The anger, regret, grief, acceptance.

His entry into the grand sect of illusions, not to truly become a member, a producer of fake worlds for other, more martially inclined cultivators, but simply to live out the rest of his days in relative peace and solitude.

The last few years of his life, of learning the methods of the Illusion Room sect, trying desperately not to befriend the other outer disciples. The expectations of his immediate superior Elder Qin, and Jin's disappointment at being unable to meet the man's expectations.

In a way it was sad. Jin had cultivated, and learned the theory of how to infuse a Room with an illusion; he'd passed the basic stages of mind-based cultivation and had even achieved very good results in all the tests indicating one's future potential. However, right before being able to create his first work, the pain had become unbearable, and Jin had decided to slip out of his life as quietly as he had entered it.

It was a pitiable story. In most situations, James, now Jin, might have even shed a small tear of sympathy.

However, there was only one thing preventing him from really caring.

The rage.

James sat on the floor, his new body shaking from exertion, before suddenly shouting. "You fucking piece of shit! Kill yourself for all I care, but why drag me into this!"

He stood up and kicked at the bed, hurting his toe and starting to hop around madly.

"Worked, endlessly, tirelessly, for a fucking decade, only for you to leave me this pile of garbage life? Final exam in one week. No fucking work done! A world without functional plumbing, running water, or electricity? Is this a fucking joke!" he shouted and struck out at the small table set in a corner, causing it to fall over and unceremoniously lose a leg.

"Retirement, immediately a pandemic, and now this?" Jin shouted, stomping around and waving his arms wildly. "What was the point of the burn-outs and the stress if I immediately become a magical fucking farmer?" he screamed at the wooden roof. However, whatever god existed in this cursed world, they were not listening.

James paused and pondered the thought that had just passed through his mind. He furrowed his brows. Cursed world? He wondered. Why was it cursed?

His eyes widened in realisation as the appropriate memory packet was accessed through his inquiry. "Fucking demons, hellspawn?" he muttered, aghast. "Half the world is under the control of the dark forces?"

He fell to his knees.

"You fucking piece of shit Jin Fan! Return here immediately and take your crappy life back!" he shouted, his voice breaking at the abuse he was putting his vocal cords through. Then, from sheer anger alone, he unceremoniously fell unconscious right there on the floor.

-/-

The last time James had awoken from his "slumber," he'd been too weak to open his eyes at first. His body has still been adjusting to its new host, and everything felt like it took way too much effort.

Now? He just didn't want to open them. If he opened them he risked still being in that oriental cottage with the now broken table and the rickety bed. It didn't matter that he felt wood underneath his body, it was only when he opened his eyes that the new reality would be confirmed.

Of course, James considered during this time if he was tripping, or sleeping, but it felt too real. Dreams felt real but fell apart at any closer inspection, and hallucinations were usually obviously fake. His mind felt clear. More clear than ever before. The reason for this was his cultivation level, which mostly focused on enhancing brain functions.

James didn't know how long he lay there, trying to ignore the reality of the situation, it was at least several hours. Enough time for his new memories to all fully settle into his mind. The location of the Illusion Room sect, and its business dealings with other organisations.

The cultivation system, starting out with qi gathering, foundation establishment, core formation and then nascent soul creation. All this information flitted, almost completely unprompted through his head.

He opened his eyes in frustration eventually, the darkness having only provided a deeper sense of immersion into his new lot in life, with how it foregrounded his inner world. The same wooden roof greeted him from his position on his back, and before Jin had any significant time to think about it, he was already storming out of the cottage, unable to bear being stuck in a different world, a different body, but also a house that wasn't really his.

Theoretically, he knew of course what sort of view he would find upon leaving the cottage, but it still stole his breath even when he actually beheld it for the first time with his new set of eyes. His anger dissipated slightly. The wooden cottage was nestled into a mountainside along with several others, forming what he knew to be a ring around the mountain. This was where the outer disciples lived. They were lucky, in a way, to be in this position, as the next ring, the one for inner disciples, was stuck in clouds most of the time. From Jin's cottage, he could at least look at the wide panoramic view of countless other mountains, covered up to the top with greenery, with an occasional building sitting at the top in a lonely manner. His eyesight was better than ever and he could almost make out the peaks of the buildings in the imperial capital in between some of the mountains.

It was a beautiful view and for the first time since being stuck in this weird new situation, he thought about how maybe it wasn't so bad to have a second chance in another world? One which apparently lived more closely together with nature, not using technology, but the channelling of heavenly energies by cultivators to support human life on the planet.

He rapidly shook his head at the thought. Sure, the world looked nice, but culturally it was basically stuck several thousand years in the past. Democracy? Could you eat it? The different human countries currently lived under slightly different states of pseudo-feudalism, just that a revolution was even less likely to happen than on Earth since the kings and aristocrats had family members who were cultivators.

Sure, most sects didn't care too much about the affairs of mortals, mostly trying to either attain immortality or fend off the endless waves of monsters coming from the other side of the planet. But, it was mostly rich mortals who could fund a family member's journey to a disciple selection ceremony.

James had never considered himself an inflexible person, but this situation was still a bit much, he had to say. He sighed and sat down on the little stone ledge built around his house. Perhaps it was meant as some sort of fence to protect from wild animals, useless, as none could get through the protections of the sect.

He sat there for a while, letting thoughts run through his head before he came to the inevitable conclusion that if this was indeed his new life, then he should simply make the best of it. Of course, it was easy to think that intellectually, but emotionally it was a whole different story. However, humans were rational animals, so the emotion would have to eventually follow the intellect.

"Yo, brother Jin, still sitting there with no idea what you'll do for your final project?" a voice suddenly shouted from a few dozen steps away. Jin turned his head to see his fellow disciple Lin Chen pushing a cart full of steaming boxes down the cobblestone path that connected all the disciple houses on the outer ring. It would be inconsiderate to ask the disciples to grow their own food and cook it as well, so the sect provided two meals a day.

Jin sighed, stood up and walked over to the chubby boy who everyone knew liked to eat all the meals that were left over after every run he did. Distributing the food was just one of the many tasks one could do for the sect to gather points, which could be traded in for tutoring, new techniques, or even cultivation items.

Jin had never bothered, since he'd never planned on living long anyway. But, with the new knowledge from his other life, he quickly recognized that running the food was probably the best job for an outer disciple to have. Networking was a powerful tool, and being the person who delivered one's meals was an easy way to check up on other people's progress and make surface-level connections. Also, it helped fulfil the requisite daily exercise on the job and one could eat more than one's allotted share. Sure, the ingredients used were nothing special, but it was still food grown on a mountain, closer to where the heavenly energies fell. Quantity had a quality of its own.

"Brother Lin," he thus started politely as he walked up to the boy. "Thankfully the drought of ideas has ended and I have come up with some thoughts." He received a round warm bamboo box from the boy who was nodding sagely.

"Good, good. You know we foolish mongrels only get one chance to make a good Room. I'm still working on my own concept, but my exam is also in a year, instead of yours, which should be in three weeks?" the boy asked.

Jin nodded miserably, cursing the former owner of this body for leaving him in such a situation. "A week, I will work hard. Enjoy the rest of the walk, brother Lin," he said and gave a small incline of the head to the boy, who nodded himself and was on his way again.

No matter how much Jin wanted to first be depressed and do nothing for a week due to having so suddenly lost everything, he didn't really have the time to mope.

The stakes were real, and if he got thrown out of the sect now, no other sect would take him. After all, he had already started his cultivation on the specific path of the Illusion Room developer. It was too late to go back and he was essentially stuck with the situation. Going back to being a mortal, albeit one with a slightly higher base and some obscure and magical knowledge wasn't really something he wanted to do. This was an undeveloped world where you were either someone, or you were no one.

Metaphorically, the Illusion Room Sect was the big company Samsung, and if Jin lost his gig, he wouldn't get another, less prestigious job at Sony. He would just straight out go back to being a peasant, best case, a merchant. What was the use of his cultivations focused on the mind, if no other faction would take him due to his previous associations?

In the end, James was someone that could pull through. Weirdly, Jin had been as well, just that his goal had been different.

The sect took in disciples, gave them some theory classes and some time to cultivate, before testing them on their ability to create a meaningful illusion. If the disciple failed, fucked up the Room artefact, then they were out, no second chances, no nothing.

Jin stood up from where he'd sat down on the floor and went back into his cottage, back to the metal rune box. An expensive artefact, but only a vessel in the end. A vessel for an experience. He baffled -as he scrolled through the information in his mind- at what the illusion Room Sect actually was.

In simple terms, since cultivators were essentially trying to attain immortality, and then ascension, they usually had to set up streams of revenue with which to purchase the requisite materials, which became more and more expensive and rare as they advanced on the Path. In a similar way as the best way to get extremely rich was to create a successful business with many employees, these high-level cultivators turned to creating sects, where they would give away some of their knowledge and expertise, in return for labour. The outer disciples would be the potential initiates, whereas the inner disciples were the ones producing most of the material wealth through their work, in an attempt to attain the status of core disciple, and then Elder. Once the head of the sect ascended, and inevitably left it behind, the most influential elder would become the new sect leader.

It was essentially a pyramid scheme, but one with actual upward mobility and a trickle-up economy that made sense. After all, beginner cultivators didn't really know how to, well, cultivate. Because of this, they needed teachers and infrastructure. The sect offered this in return for labour. Considering that cultivation very much expanded one's life span, and being any sort of cultivator, even a lowly one, allowed one a quality of life basically unheard of for almost everyone else, it was actually a pretty sweet deal.

Of course, since materials and knowledge that could help cultivation generally came in the form of dangerous fauna, heavenly beasts and powerful demons, most sects focused on combat. The techniques being passed down from the sect leader were combat techniques. Either body cultivation with the usage of a specific weapon, mind cultivation with the usage of combat spells, or sometimes, both.

Of course, not everyone could be a warrior, or wanted to be one, for that matter. Fighting out endless battles against the horde of demons and monsters spilling forth from the other side of the planet and hoping to not be a part of the mortality statistic sounded like it kind of sucked.

Combat sects were obviously the richest, as being a fighter and a hunter meant being the closest to the source of cultivator wealth, but there was a certain draw in being in a sect that did not fight overly much. There was the Red Gourd Sect, which bought different monster and fauna parts and turned them into liquors. Enjoyable poisons essentially. You would think that cultivators who were mostly focused on the purity of being and such things wouldn't support such a business sect with their hard-earned currency, but considering cultivators couldn't get drunk or high of normal human means, the draw of the spirit wine was obvious.

These sorts of sects were in the minority however, and the second largest group of sects, after the combat ones, were sects focused on producing items that would make combat more efficient. The sword-forging sect of Huanli for example made the best swords in the human realm, while the sealing sect of Shengfen made spell formulas which allowed body cultivators to use the more arcane elements of cultivation as well, for a price.

It was debatable in which category the Illusion Room Sect fell, but most would claim that it was a sect developing products which were meant to boost combat efficiency and prowess.

The premise was as genius, as it was simple.

What was the most effective way of learning how to kill monsters?

By going out and killing monsters.

Naturally, this method had a pretty high fatality rate, even if the reward was equally high.

But what if there was a way to battle a variety of different enemies without risking one's life? What if there was a way to create a virtual world, with virtual enemies, in which one could prepare mentally, if not physically, for the battles ahead.

This was what the illusion Room sect did. They created illusionary simulations of battles, of enemies, of scenarios, in which cultivators could practise their skills without being in actual danger. Did a cultivator know that he was going to have to slay a dragon for his next task? Well, why not buy an illusion Room which had the dragon in question as a simulation so that they could practice?

In a very odd twist of fate, despite having been mostly involved in the very traditional business of architecture and construction in his last life, it had taken James being transported to another world, a magical, ugly, dangerous world of feudal policies and oligarchs backed by sheer individual might, not money, to pursue his childhood dream.

To become a video game developer.

Chapter 2: Designing the First

Of course, just because Jin had now accepted, quite easily, he proudly thought, his new lot in life… Had decided that it was best to continue on the path that he'd been gifted, that of an illusion Room creator. Even if he was now willing to create an illusion Room, or in other words, a game…

That didn't necessarily mean that doing so was easy, or that he could start immediately.

After all, while Jin would call himself experienced in terms of video games, at least the playing aspect, and his photographic memory would assist him in recreating the scenes he'd witnessed in his past life… Well, illusion Room's weren't really games, were they?

Rather, they were specific scenarios.

A cultivator of the Illusion Room Sect would either receive a contract from another sect to model a specific problem, or would try to identify a gap in the current market, a need, and create an illusion Room to fill that gap.

The difference between a game and a scenario was that while every game was composed of several scenarios, not every scenario was a game. What was missing was the narrative.

Jin quickly identified the reason for the difference. In his past world games had been created for pleasure only, they were meant to be fun. Here, in this cursed land of cultivators and sects, illusion Rooms were only created and sold and bought because they were useful. Sure, maybe some rich people could commission an illusion Room of a harem, however, cultivators were mostly concerned with practicality. They commissioned and bought games that would make them come closer to a specific goal, which usually happened through familiarising them with a particular enemy or skill.

If Jin tried to remake Tetris, or Pacman, the most popular games from his past life, then he'd probably get confused looks and a swift boot up the ass, straight off the mountain. This was due to two reasons, firstly, because neither of those games, as fun as they were, taught a valuable skill, or acclimated the 'player' to a dangerous scenario. The second reason was because if a game was only there to help acclimatise someone to a specific scenario or to teach them a skill, third-person games became useless. Cultivators were only interested in using their own bodies and skills to confront an illusion Room. The role of the protagonist who was a separate person one could control became obsolete. All illusion Rooms had to use the player as a template for the protagonist, otherwise the immersion would be broken.

This eliminated most games Jin had played.

One could wonder at this point, why he didn't simply consider creating an original scenario, as he should, considering that not plagiarising was one of the main requirements of the exam at hand. Well, that and not destroying the Room, and making something at least remotely useful from a conceptual level.

The reason for that was simple. Most cultivation techniques taught at the illusion Room sect were focused on better processing information, retaining it, and refining it. This was because random sect member A would not want to have to go out and find a nesting wyvern every time he had to make a game for a scenario involving such a creature, to properly model the scenario. No, the sect paid warriors to bring them memory slips of monsters, places, and skills, which the illusion Room sect members were specifically trained to absorb, refine, adapt and insert into the scenarios they were creating.

To create an illusion Room, a designer needed to be able to vividly create in his mind the separate pieces of the scenario, before fittingly infusing them into the empty Room to create a coherent whole. Their mind was a game engine, essentially.

So, the sect had a library of various monsters, demons, fighting styles and environments. Generally, outer disciples accessed the outer disciple version of this library which held lower-tiered information that their mind and cultivation could actually process.

Jin's problem, and the reason why he had to rely on a game from his previous life was simple. The person who'd he'd inherited this body from had never planned on passing the exam and had thus not actually studied any of the information he would need. Now, with only a week left before the end of the exam, it would be impossible to get anything useful.

First, to find something one could use, and then secondly, to fragment the information of the memory slip and reconstruct it in one's mind to use it as a scenario for a Room.

The process took a while. Longer than a week. This meant that Jin needed to use the information already stored in his mind about the video games of Earth. But how could he justify creating something so different?

A knock suddenly resounded on the door, causing Jin to look up from his thoughts from where he was lying on the floor. "Come in," the disciple said calmly while his thoughts raced.

The wooden door opened inwards and a distinguished-looking older gentleman in fanciful sakura petal robes and a well-kept moustache and beard entered but remained close to the door as he looked around, until his eyes locked onto the Room which had very obviously not been used.

It was Elder Qin, the man responsible for the upkeep and the lecturing of the outer disciples. The post, from how Jin understood it, wasn't particularly prestigious. It was usually held by those who didn't have many prospects and upper mobility left. Elder Qin didn't seem to care, always stern, but helpful to those in his care. Gossip said that a rival had sabotaged him the moment he formed his nascent soul, preventing him from pushing further.

"Disciple Jin, I see that you have not yet started inserting any illusions into the Room," the man stated, with no particular judgment in his tone.

"I've been working on it," Jin muttered from his position on the floor.

"Sources told me you have not been seen in the library since the start of the assignment." Was the retort.

An answer suddenly came to Jin, a way to explain why he hadn't been to the library, while still showing critical thinking and innovativity. "No, I haven't," Jin answered serenely. "And that's not because I've given up either." He looked at the Elder, who simply raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I do wonder why a student so strong in theory and cultivation has been neglecting the obvious path forward to becoming an inner disciple."

Jin narrowed his eyes. "It's been bothering me. We create scenarios and tests for monsters and challenges people expect to face," he started. "Things they know they will face. Our customers, collaborators, whatever you want to call it… They gain experience in fighting a very specific enemy, and not much else. Couldn't illusion Rooms be used to train more general skills, rather than specific scenarios?"

"What is an ability to handle a specific situation, but a very specific skill. And what is it that one requires to solve a scenario if not a skill?" the Elder asked rhetorically with a small smile.

"A specific skill is only useful in a specific situation, and can only be planned for when one knows the enemy. This is the case for hunting heavenly beasts and monsters, but the demons spilling forth from the dark half of the world are constantly shifting, changing and are never the same."

"And that is the fundamental issue," Elder Qin interjected. "How do you prepare for the unknown? You cannot. You do not know what it is."

"I reject the simplicity of that answer. I've refrained from going to the library for a very simple reason," Jin said in a quiet voice, knowing that the Elder likely had ears sharp enough to hear even his heartbeat. "To avoid intertextuality as much as possible. The inevitable condition of creativity is that everything we make is influenced, consciously or subconsciously by something the creator has already read about or seen before. All texts are just remixes of the dictionary and all discoveries rest on work done previously."

The Elder hummed. "The question remains, how do you prepare for the unknown?"

"By creating something never seen before. The only way to become adaptable is to practise fighting enemies one has never even thought of."

Something impossible to do generally… But for a transmigrator?

"The issue of course is that sects are not interested in buying something completely unknown. After all, they would profit more if they practised against something specific they expect to come up against."

"Thankfully I'm not trying to sell a product, but impress a panel of judges who are less short-sighted than the average warrior," Jin retorted and got for his quip a rare treasure.

Elder Qin gave a short chuckle.

"And, what is your plan to create something completely original, something never seen before? How did you say it, so fittingly? Intertextuality is an inevitable condition of all creation. How, without visiting the library, can you make sure you will not simply reproduce an existing dilemma speaking to you through your subconsciousness."

"Let that be my worry, Master Qin," Jin muttered, thoughts going a mile a minute.

The Elder looked him up and down appraisingly. "It seems I was worried for nothing. Intelligence or not, spirit is also an important criterion for an illusion Room cultivator," the older man said. "I'm looking forward to what you'll show us in a week, disciple Jin." He turned around and promptly left, a breeze shutting the door behind him.

Jin meanwhile, had figured out, from his newly received memories, what niche exactly he wanted to focus on filling to make himself valuable to the sect, and thus live a safe and comfortable life with few worries.

It was very difficult for the inhabitants of this new world to face new challenges. Their society was not based around creativity, but rather an odd form of what Jin recognized as strict spiritual Confucianism. In addition, the world had not yet reached the potential post-scarcity level of technology, and thus most of its population was still stuck farming fields and were not even literate.

The artistic output of this relatively small agricultural and illiterate human population, resting perhaps at about 1 billion globally, if not less, could not compare to the artistic output of the 21st and the 20th century on Earth. Especially with the creation of the internet, which if nothing else was a machine that sped up people's ability to be creative and the proliferation of art to a previously unprecedented scale.

Jin's niche in this world was thus that he had an entirely different cultural background, one that arose from a Western school of thought, and the artistic consumer experience, saved in his brain through his photographic memory. Even if he did not have access to a mental game library of about 500 games, thousands of movies, dozens of shows, and hundreds of books, he would likely due to his different background be able to create stuff that was not, perhaps a masterpiece, but at least original.

However, he would rather not gamble his becoming an inner disciple on his up until now yet unproven creative abilities. No, it was time to access the memories of both his lives and consider which thing stuck out the most as being missing in this world.

He sat himself up in the lotus position and retreated deep into thought.

Cycling through the monsters in his mind, trying to decipher which one would be the weirdest to the people of this new world, he quickly came upon an interesting factoid.

The language he was now speaking was not English, obviously, it was simply the imperial standard. However, there was an English word which didn't have an imperial synonym, despite it really needing one if one considered how martial this society actually was.

There was no real concept of full plate armour as Westerners knew it. Which was weird. But why was that the case? Jin's mind raced a mile a minute as he considered the variables. Eventually, he settled on the most likely explanation.

Heavenly energy. The big difference between the two worlds. Heavenly energy, as was the name, came from the heavens and suffused the biology of all living things. Cultivating was simply taking in more of this heavenly energy than was strictly necessary, and using it to empower one's body, one's mind, and to use it as fuel to cast spells and other effects.

But that was the crutch, heavenly energy suffused the biology, not the inorganic. That meant that while rocks and metal were just as tough as in the last world, everything else was stronger. Due to the constant influx of energy humans were more powerful as a baseline, without any cultivation, animals were faster, and monsters were more ferocious.

A body cultivator of the foundation establishment stage would likely be able to snap a metal armour plate with a punch. Considering the plate was out of an inorganic material, it was also more difficult and costly to enchant. It just wouldn't stick. Leather armour made out of the hide of some powerful beast, however? Dead useful. Naturally, this meant that all armour was somehow flexible since it was made of organic material. The soldiers and cultivators of this world simply didn't know how it was to struggle to penetrate someone's iron full plate during which every strike resonated partially back into one's own body.

Jin had made the experience at a mediaeval festival, and it hadn't been fun. However, simply creating a creature that wore armour was hardly innovative. Armour existed in some form after all, chitin pilfered from bug monsters was somewhat similar. However, there was another thing, a weapon that wasn't very popular.

Since time immemorial on earth, humans had fastened sharpened stones, and later metals to long poles of wood, creating a safe long-distance weapon that could be thrown, as well as handled near an enemy.

The spear.

In this world of cultivation, this weapon seemed almost non-existent. At least Jin had never seen one. The absolutely preferred weapon was a sword. One of the first immortals to ever ascend, who'd doled out his skills to humanity in general, had been a cultivator focusing on the way of the sword. There was just something about it.

It was also more cost-efficient in a way. Here weapons were generally made out of bones, or out of fangs of great beasts. Dragons and house-sized tigers. Stuff like that, things you didn't want to meet in a dark alleyway. Or any alleyway for that matter...

Naturally, these resources were limited to one's ability to kill dragons and house-sized tigers and when one eventually succeeded, one would rather carve out of the same amount of material three swords, rather than one spear.

One could ask at this point why one couldn't simply create 15 spear tips rather than three swords, to then add those tips to poles of wood, and the answer was… While there were incredibly durable woods, since trees also took in heavenly energy, it was not considered very intelligent to stack materials for a weapon. The more materials something consisted of, the harder it was to enchant it. Similarly, the more materials something consisted of, the harder it was for the user of such a weapon to channel their spells through it. Channelling energy through a weapon required a specific frequency of vibration so to say, and going through wood then bone was several times as hard then simply going through either.

It would only make sense to make a spear if one could truly make it out of one piece of bone or fang. However, those gigantic fangs and bones generally belonged to very powerful creatures. By the time a cultivator became powerful enough to kill such a creature… Well, it was rather improbable that they did so bare-handedly. They'd likely done so with a sword, or with a staff. They were hardly going to make a spear out of the material and switch weapons at that stage of their journey. That would just be asinine.

As for soldiers? Why they didn't use spears? On Earth, the spear had been the staple of the mediaeval and the Roman infantryman. Every single warrior culture on the planet had developed the spear independently.

The answer to why this wasn't the case here? Other than cultural influence from cultivators seeping through the rest of society, and sword techniques being more developed in general, soldiers were a bunch that very much wanted to become cultivators, even if only for the first stages, which is what their talents usually were sufficient for. What was the point of learning the spear, if one wasn't going to use it for longer than a few years. Might as well start with the sword.

Also, people in this world generally distrusted weapons constructed out of two separate materials in general, so the point became, once again moot.

Jin had never seen a spear, and although there was a word for it in the language, he didn't think it was used by anyone other than farmers who liked to hunt for wild pigs in the forest. As a weapon of war, the spear essentially didn't exist.

He could consider a monster that was somewhat special as well, but Jin thought that putting forth a new combat style would also score him innovatively points. After all, while he could create a never-before-seen monster, which would require the "player" to think on their feet to beat it, a humanoid monster with armour and a spear would require a similar level of innovation, but could also introduce a combat style that didn't exist yet to anyone who wanted to get inspired by it.

He considered for a second if he should make one scenario with armour, and one with a spear, but then the perfect combatant suddenly came to mind.

The perfect monster to impress the judges.

If one talked mediaeval armour and a spear there could only be one really.

Dragonslayer Ornstein from Dark Souls

Dark Souls was a special game in many people's hearts. If they hated the painful experience of being forced to learn trick upon trick upon trick just to beat the first boss, or if they loved it, nobody could really say anything bad about the game's quality. Ignoring the bugs of course, and the sometimes horrible PvP which had been ruined by meta-slaves.

Anyway, Dark Souls was doubtlessly one of the most culturally relevant classics back from James' world and while Dragonslayer Ornstein wasn't a lord of cinder, or the final boss, he had been one of the enemies that Jin had most enjoyed beating back in his previous life.

To bring such an iconic and well-designed character to this world of cultivation would be an honour.

However, for him to be able to do so, he first needed to change the design up a bit. There wasn't anything he wanted to shift in terms of looks or weapon functionality, but…

Comparing games and illusion Rooms was a wasted effort, they were two different media. Naturally the first was more fun, which only made sense when one considered that the latter was only meant to improve a warrior or provide a useful training scenario.

It was because of this difference, the fact that video games and illusion Rooms were very much not the same thing, that translating between the two became a bit of a challenge.

There was one problem in particular, which would likely take Jin the rest of the week to resolve. Namely, while he had the perfect character template of Ornstein in his head in terms of looks and style, he was not a perfect simulation of how a knight with such a lance would actually fight.

This was perhaps the biggest difference between video games and illusion Rooms. Realism. After all, what was the point of fighting a yellow drake in a Room if it didn't actually behave or fight like a real yellow drake? Best case the training would be only marginally useful as a desensitisation strategy. Worst case it would inflate the confidence of the cultivator and make them commit a fatal mistake once they actually challenged the real thing.

Jin sort of wiggled out of this issue by focusing on monsters and combat styles that just didn't exist in this new world. However, Ornstein for all his iconic power was still a video game character with a fixed battle algorithm that could be exploited by people who'd never even wielded a weapon in real life. The algorithm he'd played against would be a joke to any cultivator. A bad joke.

That was why Jin's work would mostly consist of developing an actual fighting style for his version of Ornstein. He already had the figure, the dimensions, the weapon, the armour, the space. Now he just needed to polish those aspects. Make Ornstein a valid threat rather than just a nuisance. The dash would stay, as would the tight spearmanship. However, the gaps in the algorithm that represented the lack of actual skill or intelligence would be fixed.

It probably sounded to the outside as if Jin wanted to graft an artificial intelligence which could make real-time combat decisions, however, this was something that was completely beyond him at the moment.

This was why he was standing outside of his hut, the view still stunning him minute by minute, holding a broom in his hands as if he was wielding a spear. Slightly widened stance, confident. Dangerous. He thrust forward and enjoyed the fluidity of his body. Then he spun the broom in his hands as if wanting to deflect a hail of arrows, creating a violent circle.

A finger got in the way and the broom fell on the floor.

Jin bent down to pick it up and started again.

The body he'd inherited from the previous owner was several times better than the one he'd left behind when he'd transmigrated.

There was nothing to say about it. While James had lived in an inherently polluted world in one of the most unhealthy countries on the planet, this new body lived in a world where microplastics and pollutants didn't exist, the food was by default, always organic, and heavenly energy literally fell from the heavens to strengthen all living organisms.

Already just the average farmer was probably healthier and more athletic than any gold-medal-winning athlete in his last life.

Jin? A cultivator? He blew even that out of the water. Sure his cultivation didn't necessarily focus on physical aspects, but he'd still gone through the body-purifying stage of cultivation before focusing on mental techniques and spells.

This meant that the memory he had in his last life of legitimate spear-wielding techniques he'd seen in film or tutorials flowed through his new body and into the broom at an intense pace, something that would have been completely unachievable before. He was sure that by the end of the day, he would become more adept at wielding the weapon, and would have developed a decent understanding of how to create a good combat template for his Ornstein to use.

Jab, deflect, slash, parry, thrust. His body didn't seem capable of getting tired and Jin watched the sunset as he practised his broom techniques on the cliffs of the sect mountain. Other disciples came and went, walking the stone-paved path, occasionally laughing at him, and occasionally cheering him on. No one knew what he was doing, and he was fine with that.

When he did lay down the broom when the sun had set and Brother Lin had delivered the second batch of food for the day, he went straight into the lotus position on the green grass, not even bothering to go inside the house for this next part.

Quickly, faster than ever before he sank into a meditative trance. Considering that the illusion Room sect was essentially focused on creating only a specific type of product, they had gotten quite decent in creating techniques to develop that product with. The Room, empty as it was currently, was only one half of the equation, one that Jin hadn't focused on much. This was essentially the only real decision one could make when joining the sect. If one wanted to create the Rooms, or if one wanted to create the illusions. Jin had walked the path of illusions, and thus his main spell, the one that had at this point been carved into his very soul, was the mind-illusion spell.

In simple words it was a game-engine, just stuck there, inside his head.

In reality? It was much more complex like that.

Through meditating the cultivators of the sect were able to enter a sort of mental interface in which they were able to develop the individual aspects of the scenario they were trying to create, and then they would save them, like they did the catalogue of real-life experiences harvested from warriors, until they next had time to work on the project.

It was at this stage, that Jin's photographic memory flexed its muscles. The entire process of character design, which could sometimes take just as much as the insertion of the actual combat system, was finished in a flash. One simple flex of Jin's mental muscles made Dragonslayer Ornstein appear in front of him in the black space in all his glory. Golden spiky armour with mesh underclothes, a highly stylized lion-faced helmet with red plumage and an oddly designed spear and lance hybrid with a long blade and a cross-guard.

In simple words, the character looked exactly as he had looked in the games, but just with another added level of realism.

It was in the design of the space in which the scenario of the fight would take place that Jin hesitated. Quite frankly, what was really innovative was the character design concept. If he wanted to highlight that it might have made the most sense to use one of the standard battle templates, a large stone circle hovering high in the heavens under the ruthless sun. The cathedral-like structure in which one actually fought Ornstein in the games also had completely innovative architecture never before seen in this world. It was clearly western, and not just that, but also gothic, with its large stylised spire support structures and high windows.

In the end it probably made more sense to include it, just in case the judges didn't like the character design, they might be swayed by the architectural style. Another mental flex and the room in which the player would fight Ornstein was created.

As a last special addition, Jin also input the music. One of the aspects of illusion Room design that he considered to be undervalued was the emotional quotient. Experience showed that the more emotionally engaged the Room users were, the better they would be able to transfer any skills gained in the illusion back to reality.

Naturally, Jin understood perfectly why narrative structures and music were not generally part of the illusion Room design. After all, most illusion works were the result of one person's labour. And if the person already had to consume a lot of memories in regards to the creature they wanted to depict, create a functioning combat system which was the number one priority, then they would hardly find the time to make a narrative, let alone music to accompany the battle. In the austere and ascetic society Jin was now living in, those things would likely be considered wasteful.

He added it anyway. Ornstein stood in the middle of the cathedral, perfectly still while the orchestral choral-based ambience music started resounding from everywhere, but from nowhere. Not loud, since cultivators also depended on their sense of sound to fight sometimes, but enough to add to the experience.

And now, now that he had all that?

Well, now the difficult part started.

Determining what effects cultivators and Ornstein would have on the environment, how stone chips would fly if one hit one of the pillars to increase immersion and so on. The way that feet would scuff on the ground if one blocked an attack and slid backwards.

Jin thought of so much, and he was still very much off from any terms of reality.

Hours later, when the moons hung fully in the sky and Jin had exhausted his store of heavenly energy, he returned to his hut and collapsed in bed. Thankfully the techniques of the illusion Room sect didn't take a lot of energy, or he could imagine that he'd be unable to finish within the deadline simply because he couldn't work the amount of time necessary.

In the end, he'd barely added the rudimentary movement and the iconic dash to Ornstein, all his efforts had been spent modelling the environment and body interaction. It was good enough at the moment, but in need of a lot of improvement. He'd refocus on that if everything else remained on track during the next six days. The combat system was still the most important and he still had a lot of work to do.

Oddly enough, despite having lost everything he'd ever worked for and being transported into a magical world where the food was healthier, but he could be eaten by an angry demon or monster at any time, Jin went to sleep with a smile.

-/-

The next six days were perhaps the most gruelling of Jin's life. He woke up and started working immediately, experimenting with the broom according to any and all memories he could find in which he'd seen a useful depiction of the weapon's use. Eventually, his body wouldn't as much grow tired, as it simply collapsed. Then, lying outside in the grass, in this perfect climate, for all to see, he continued modelling the combat system. The environment was done, the music was set, and the character was created. All of these parts came together in his head, in his mindscape to form a beautiful symphony that could only be referred to as artistic.

The combat system continued improving the more he worked himself into the ground. He'd begun on day two with the dash and with some very basic handling of the lance, thrusts, parries, and deflection spins. On the second day, he added more subtle movements such as footwork that he considered rational for the feats being achieved. On the third day, he created the physics of the moves, how fast they would flow into each other depending on the circumstances and how hard the spear would hit depending on how much body weight was put into it.

Suffice it to say, while Jin hadn't added the electrical attacks, rather just focusing on the dash and on the handling of the weapon, Dragonslayer Ornstein received a major upgrade.

After all, while Dark Souls as a series prided itself on being difficult and requiring the player to learn and adapt, they still had to leave some weaknesses for a player to exploit, or else the thing would become completely impossible.

Jin on the other hand would be rewarded for a combat system that was as hard as possible to beat, without being unrealistic.

To be quite frank, on the last day, after he'd pulled out the still-empty Room and began considering it in his hut, Jin didn't know how he would defeat his creation. After all, while he'd swung around the broom to get a feel for how the spear functioned, he'd improved Ornstein with martial techniques that he was only qualified to see and imagine, not to actually perform.

The result was horrifying. The only way he could imagine making Ornstein more of a bitch to fight at this point was if he increased his base stats. However, he couldn't since he as a cultivator wasn't advanced enough to model something that was so fast, so strong, or so complex.

There was a reason why illusion Room cultivators only created scenarios either for warriors on their equivalent level of cultivation or for those below it.

Jin lightly slapped himself in the face. Quite frankly, he was growing slightly delirious from the amount of work he'd been completing and from the little sleep that he'd been getting.

"I just need to infuse the illusion into the Room," he said, looking at the intricate metal box the size of his head in question. "Easy, right?"

Everything could go wrong here. Developing an illusion in one's head was one thing. Shoving it into the box was another thing. As long as the internal logic of the scenario was flawless then the box would play the illusion as intended. However, if something didn't make sense, Jin would be sent on a wild goose chase to find out what exactly the issue was.

He didn't have that sort of time. Or the energy, for that matter. Tomorrow morning would be his exam, and while he could stay up all night to try and fix the issue, it was more likely that he would fall unconscious from sheer exhaustion.

A sigh escaped his lips. He was hesitating, which didn't lead anywhere. He extended his arms, sleeves falling limply onto his hands and clenched all his ten fingers around the edges of the box.

One last burst of mental effort collected the separate information packets that made up the scenario as one whole, before sending the entire thing into the box. It lit up a bright pink, which quickly faded, but some of the vibrations remained, the box giving off a very quiet hum. If the hum were a bit louder then Jin would have been able to distinguish the melody of the music he'd inserted into the scenario coming from the box. Dark choral music with some atmospheric vocals.

He couldn't, however. He was unconscious, out like a light.

Chapter 3: The Elderflower Test

In an event that was becoming a worrying regularity, Jin awoke while lying on the wooden floor of his hut. Despite the implications of this fact on his mental state, he quickly identified the most important factor in his current situation as the sunlight likely tickled at his eyes from the window.

The illusion Room.

It was done, glowing a soft pink. There was a slight vibration, a hum to the magical instrument. As if it was being played at this very moment.

It wasn't, of course. The exam was today, and Jin hadn't had the time to get the game properly tested.

If it could even be called the game. Just one enemy, really. It was very much a scenario in the sense of this new world.

He stood up wearily and stretched his sore and abused body, which had been learning the way of the spear with nothing but a broom for seven days straight now. He shortly deluded himself with the idea of getting another outer disciple to test the game real quick. Elder Qin had said that he would pick up Jin in the morning, but if the man wasn't here yet… then perhaps Brother Lin would be interested in taking a break from his food delivery.

However, any thoughts of play-testing the game and thus perhaps working out any of the remaining kinks were abruptly dashed by a knock on his door. Jin slumped in on himself.

"Come in respected Elder," he said.

The door opened, revealing Elder Qin in all his sakura petal robe glory. The man's blue eyes briefly swept across the room, his mouth staying decisively neutral. However, while adults were good at hiding irony from children, Jin was not a child anymore.

"I see that you have worked hard, disciple Jin," Elder Qin said, looking placidly at the disgusting mess that the house had become during the crunch of the last week.

It had been hard for Jin to believe that his house could become a mess when there was not even much in it in the first place. The outer disciple barely owned five sets of the same beige robes, let alone enough furniture and frivolities to truly make a pigsty. He'd managed anyhow. Somehow.

One of the things that he'd learned to appreciate about this world during his relatively short stay in it was that it wasn't as materialistic. Power was exhibited by how many nations one could crush with a swipe of one's fingers. Wealth was simply another attribute of man, not the single determiner of one's value in society.

Jin looked again at the illusion Room, before hesitatingly going over to the small wooden desk it was resting on and picking it up. He sighed. "It's as ready as it's ever going to be," he lied.

"Thankfully it does not need to be ready for this particular exam," Elder Qin replied lightly. "It simply needs to be enough."

The Elder stepped back from the door frame, the gesture inviting Jin to exit his little abode and to enter back metaphorically into civilization. The social structure that he'd been hiding from while working his ass off recently.

Of course, an Elder and undoubtedly a high-level cultivator, the supervisor had not walked all the way to Jin's abode. No, there was a golden cloud parked at the entrance to the young cultivator's green little garden. Big enough to hold several fully grown men, an artefact likely worth more than all the wealth Jin had ever possessed in his entire life. Which wasn't saying really much. He was poor as fuck.

The Elder gracefully walked on top of the cloud, seemingly unconcerned with its potential gaseous form. The cloud seemed to also care very little about physics and obliviously held the man's weight. While the cultivation path of an illusion game creator was pretty cool, and most importantly, not that dangerous, Jin hadn't actually been doing all that much impressive magic.

He was thus quite blown away.

The extent of a seemingly magical new existence giving him a much healthier and more resilient body was already a win in itself. The game engine stuck in his head was a cherry on top. Anything more than that? That was just indulgence. Suffice it to say, eager to make another magical experience, he didn't need much prompting beyond Qin's brief gaze to jump on the nimbus cloud and marvel at the soft sensation underneath his feet. It felt very secure. The cloud slowly raised itself from its perch and ascended into the sky, perpetually covered as it was by its white and grey non-magical brethren. It was sort of scary to ascend into the air without the usual hum of metal turbines and rotors that accompanied the act in James's previous world, but as he sat down on the soft artefact he decided that he preferred it this way.

"Most disciples with a civilian background are a bit more discomforted by their first ride," Elder Qin prompted.

Jin, busy enjoying the view of all the other mountain ranges and the view he had on his little hut replied in a manner that was probably a bit disrespectful for the Confucian society he was now inhabiting. "If you wanted to kill me, you wouldn't have to go for such a drama about it," he said. "In fact, I feel safer here than I do sleeping in my bed, considering there is no high-level cultivator watching over me there."

"I hope your enthusiasm stays during the next stages of the examination process," the other replied lightly as they finally reached the white clouds which covered the inner disciple ring of the illusion Room sect mountain.

"I'll do my best," he said as they closed in on the mountain. Close enough for Jin to see the space through the thick clouds. Their destination seemed to be a large stone gate with a thousand steps leading up to it from the previous ring. Behind the gate, from his vantage point in the air, Jin could make out a bustling village in which several disciples who were better dressed than him walked around eating food, talking and generally having a good time. It was the first time that he laid eyes on the middle ring and unexpectedly it seemed to be more heavily populated than the outer disciple one. There were more houses which were laid more closely together and there were even some non-cultivators walking around, if his eyes didn't deceive him. They were recognizable by their shabby brown robes which contrasted harshly to the sleek clothing of the cultivators.

It was likely that it was at this stage of being a member of the Illusion Room Sect that one merited having actual servants.

As expected, however, instead of flying into the village, the golden cloud landed in front of the stone gate. The large structure was burdened with a variety of runes and paper talismans. If Jin had developed the ability to sense wards, then he was sure that he would have something to explore here. However, he didn't, so he rather focused on the two people seemingly waiting for him and Elder Qin at the gates.

One of them was a short and stout man with a whiskered moustache and a head of hair with some brown still in it. Jin would have guessed him to be around 50 if he didn't know that cultivators generally lived 10 times longer than their normal human counterparts. The man's face looks like it had been stuck in a perpetual frown since he was born.

Thankfully his companion was a sight for Jin's now sore eyes.

A 35-something woman in amazing shape, as one would expect from a cultivator. A sword scabbard hung at her waist and she was covered up to her shoulders by a green outfit consisting of loose pants and a tight shirt.

Rather than risk offending anyone, Jin immediately bowed as the cloud dissipated around them and condensed itself into a bamboo flask at Elder Qin's side.

"Greetings honoured Elders," he said, clutching his illusion Room tight to his chest as he tried to touch the floor with his forehead. It never hurt to be polite. Especially in a world where people could decide to kill you if they thought that you had cost them face.

Elder Qin stepped forward until he was standing right next to the other two cultivators.

It was very symbolic to hold the exam in front of the entrance to the inner disciple ring.

He could even see, through the slight distortions covering the stone gate entrance, the inner disciples and other people moving around in what would hopefully soon become his living area as well.

"Greetings again, outer disciple Jin," Elder Qin said. He nodded shortly at the woman by his side.

"This is Elder Flower and next to her is Elder Lung, they will be my co-examiners today. They are both highly skilled illusion Room cultivators who I have sought out to test you due to the suggested innovativity of your approach."

Elder Flower stepped forward. "I specialise in combat systems and will be the one testing the usefulness of your creation," she said in a clear and pleasant voice before stepping back.

Elder Lung didn't bother moving and twirled one point of his long moustache between two fingers while looking at Jin disdainfully. He looked like he was one bad day away from executing a servant for bringing him the wrong tea. "Well," he started in a loud and nasal voice. "Let's see first if you even get to that point. Being novel is something usually reserved for people who have mastered the basics. I have yet to see a novice innovate anything, other than a fascinatingly stupid way to fail an exam." He looked Jin up and down, before barking. "Well? Explain your methodology."

The disciple blinked, not having expected the exam to be so informal. Orally defending himself out in the open like this. He saw some inner disciples gather at the other side of the gate and look at him curiously, some of them sneering at his confused expression. However, James had been through enough tough situations where he had to sell himself and quickly regain his footing.

"From my understanding, as comparable as it is to that of a frog sitting at the bottom of a well, I looked for my project at the fact that the sect focuses on scenarios of heavenly beasts and other already researched dangers as a vital opportunity to try something else. After all, one does not begin branching out into new ideas, without first having a solid base." He bowed. "I was only able to attempt what I did because of the strong and reliable fundaments of all illusion Room creators that came before me."

Elder Lung motioned him to go on impatiently but was obviously pleased with the brown-nosery.

Elder Flower meanwhile had to hide a smile behind a raised fist.

"I saw an opportunity in the relatively little focus there was being put on the demons of the other half, who are as we know always completely individual. An opportunity to create a game that is not focused on training for a specific scenario, but rather to teach the experiencer how to deal with the unexpected. In the end, while it is perhaps presumptuous of me to create something so non-normative, I hope that it can be seen simply as putting forth an experiment, which wiser heads will judge the validity of."

"So dedicated was outer disciple Jin to his experiment that he refrained from visiting the library too much, to not pollute his originality with already perceived combat styles and creatures present there," Elder Qin commented.

It was here that Elder Lung had a derogatory comment to add, although, for all intents and purposes, it had been Elder Qin who had so treacherously elicited it.

"What did you come up with through your hard-working non-usage of library resources specifically put forth to help outer disciples in your situation?" the man asked sarcastically.

Jin didn't falter, knowing for a fact that the critique was very valid. He would have gone to the library more as well if the previous owner of this body hadn't fucked him over so hard with his non-preparation.

"I focused my design concept of the enemy, of which there is one, on the material reality and context of the world we live in. Through this focus I invented a weapon, armour and combat style of which I have not heard of, and which should, by the laws of our world, not exist." He tapped his chin wondering how to best explain.

"Can you be more specific?" Elder Flower asked while Elder Lung nodded in understanding.

Jin struggled for a second before starting.

"Well, due to the suffusion of heavenly energies into organic matter, metallic materials have naturally been relatively unused in the creation of armour. However, due to the consistency, the feel the material gives when being struck… Fighting someone in metal armour should be a completely different experience than fighting someone wearing either the traditional robe or the leather set that is so popular amongst warrior sects. I used the fact that scenarios do not have to conform completely to reality and made the metal armour my enemy is wearing as sturdy as any enchanted counterpart.

"And you think that the novelty of such an armour transcends the usefulness of a warrior training against something they might at some point in their lives actually see and fight against?" Elder Lung asked.

"I am not trying to give definitive answers, but simply propositions to be mixed into the current dialectic of the subject matter. I'm trying to refrain from claiming knowledge until I at least see Mount Tai," Jin said respectfully.

"The weapon?" Elder Flower asked. "I assume you're making a human-type enemy. Which is fair, considering most demons are in some way shaped after us."

"For the weapon, I considered the fact that the best weapons are made out of a single material, for ease of enchantment, and thus have been historically relatively small to save on costs. If one truly considers it, it would also be possible for a human figure to wield something as tall as themselves. It is just wasteful, however, considering the costs."

Elder Flower crossed her arms at this point and tilted her head doubtfully. "Several sects use staves."

Jin helplessly shrugged. "I created a combination of two materials, wood and metal. probably something impossible to channel anything through, however something that should not have been seen before. It most resembles a spear, but even to that the design is quite different. Two-thirds of the weapon consist of wood, while one-third consists of a longer blade with a cross guard."

"You would have had to design an entirely new combat system. Build something that takes generations of heritage tradition and learning, from scratch." Elder Qin concluded softly.

"I did my best," Jin said.

"Curious," Elder Flower stated.

"Yes, but we're not done yet," Elder Lung interjected, turning to Jin from where he had been watching the interplay between him and the female Elder. "What about the surroundings? Using a template with an enemy so "novel" would ruin parts of the immersion which the skill transfer relies on," he said, somewhat triumphantly.

"I created an architectural surrounding myself. Something that I considered to fit the aesthetic choices made for the enemy. In addition to everything I also made music, an art form which will hopefully elevate the emotional state of the experiencer," Jin replied. Some inner disciples listening in from beyond the gate laughed and looked at each other incredulously.

"Music!" Elder Lung exclaimed.

"As you have deduced," Jin said. "I needed to experiment to raise the level of immersion lost by creating a never before seen enemy and combat style."

Elder Lung didn't say anything to that and simply frowned.

"I must admit," Elder Qin once again chimed in. "I can generally imagine what kind of illusion I will be entering from the theoretical discourse held at the beginning of the exam session. However, in your case, I cannot truly imagine anything, really. Which, I guess is the point. Nevertheless, I think it might be time to start looking at the scenario. Elder Lung, Elder Flower, which one of you would like to begin. The underpinning theory, or the combat system?"

Flower stepped forward, looking curiously at the Room clutched in Jin's hands.

The disciple was holding it quite desperately, standing on the grassy terrain, his view distorted by fog. Despite knowing that the Room could survive probably anything that he could throw at it, he was still afraid of it simply falling to the ground and breaking.

"I'd like to start," the woman said. "After all, if the combat system is too bad for words, which is a real fear this time around, then there's no point in wasting Elder Lung's time," she rationalised. However, it was clear that she simply couldn't wait to sate her curiosity and wanted to go first for completely personal reasons.

Jin held up the room for the Elder to take. She gently received it from his hands, their fingers brushing against each other for but a second. She had rough hands, like that of a warrior. She stepped back to stand once again amongst the Elders.

"I'm going in," she said.

-/- POV: Elder Flower

Flower had been born into the Illusion Room Sect. But had never actually really cared for the cultivation techniques and the products that they sold. She'd wanted to be a warrior, in fact. But, one was blessed in this world to be born to a father who was an Elder in a well-established sect, and one was definitely foolish if one disregarded this privilege to go be a neophyte in someone else's. Especially since there would always be a suspicion of espionage. It had been the correct decision as well. With the resources of her family, she'd become the youngest sect member to form a nascent soul, at age 65.

And, she still became a warrior anyway, just not one with access to special and secret techniques of a sect that actually focused on martial cultivation.

It had ended up being a shrewd career move. By becoming a warrior in a sect full of people who were decisively not, she had something unique to offer to the creation of combat systems and to the testing of illusion Rooms.

This unfortunately also came with the fact that she became the go-to person to bother, when an outer, or an inner disciple needed to be tested for their aptitude. She was planning an entire expedition in a few weeks just to get away from this one responsibility, as it was very exhausting to spend so much time going through illusion Rooms that offered relatively little, for the time they consumed in having to be properly reviewed.

Thus, today was going to be her last review before she left the sect on a diplomatic mission to the Mad Monks Sect. In reality, she was just going there to exchange pointers with some martial cultivators and for some time off.

The cultivators who came to their mountain to look at their scenario library weren't generally interested in sparring, having to pay an hourly fee to be present in their library.

As she entered the illusion room, she leashed the heavenly energies strengthening her body to the level that was achievable by a low-level cultivator and the end of their qi gathering stage.

She found herself at first, as was common, in a blank space. For her it was white, but she knew that for others it was sometimes black. Entering an illusion Room didn't immediately bring one into the scenario, but simply brought one to a mindscape from which one could enter it if one so wished. Different scenario designers created different methods of access, but this outer disciple seemed quite traditional in that he simply created a visual cue of what seemed to be a helmet made out of metal crossed by two of those spears he was talking about.

Without any preamble she directed a mental probe at the icon, causing her surroundings to violently change from one second to the next. No transition, she noticed. Elder Lung would probably be unhappy with that, the outdated elitist.

However, any thoughts of what Elder Lung would think were blown away by her surroundings as they materialised around her. It wasn't a space that resembled anything she'd ever seen before. Large grey bricks laid the foundation of a square room interspersed with pillars of what she recognized as marble and worked in with elaborate designs that seemed decisively non-imperial in nature. She frowned as she looked around the dark space seeing also the high glass windows which let in the minuscule amount of light that suffused the room. It was large, the space, but also small, due to the pillars.

However, she wasn't that interested in architecture. What she wanted to know was where this enemy was supposed to be.

A scuff, an unfamiliar sound of metal on stone came from behind her, above her, she spun around drawing her jian made of dragon fang and sprang back just in time to avoid a downward stab from a large golden figure wielding a long spear with an extended blade which had jumped from a balcony that she had previously not perceived. By lowering her overall strength she'd also constrained her senses.

Instead of pursuing her immediately, the gigantic figure, towering over her by at least four heads, simply pointed his weapon at her, letting her admire the intricacy of its design.

It was beautiful, in a way. The golden armour with its spikes, ridges and fins. A red plume of feathers extending out of the lion-themed helmet gently waved in a non-existent breeze.

It looked completely inefficient, however, since Flower knew that the metal was useless as a defensive armour, and the lance made of wood and metal was also a complete enchantment black hole. But, this was a fake world, not bound by the rules of reality.

Before she could consider taking off points from the examinee for the fact that the figure was not moving it suddenly began to speak.

"I've slain dragons and monsters that you cannot even imagine, do you truly think that a mere human can best me? Dragonslayer Ornstein will show you the foolishness of your ways," it spoke in a raspy metallic voice with vocal cords that sounded like they'd never been used.

Music suddenly started belting out from all corners, not particularly loud, but just enough to generate an atmosphere of unease at the alien sounds being created.

Before Flower could think too much of it, the now-named Ornstein suddenly pointed and hefted his lance in her direction, crouched down and shot forward at a speed that she hadn't expected from this level of a scenario. A golden blur holding a silver point directed exactly at her torso. She sidestepped the move, which she was thankfully able to do with the pathetic amounts of energy she was letting course with her body. Ornstein stopped in place after the charge, gripped his lance differently and swung it sideways, the blade instead of the point now coming directly for Flower's head. She reluctantly parried the blow so it struck above her but was surprised that Ornstein simply stepped forward as it was struck aside, gripped the lance closer to the blade and spun the butt of the weapon at her. Flower was forced to jump backwards, again, and reconsidered her opponent.

She narrowed her eyes, puffing a strand of her long black hair out of her face. This was turning out more difficult than expected and the lance was a much more flexible weapon than she could have imagined. It had all the diversity of a staff, but also had a blade, a sharp point, and a cross guard.

Ornstein didn't seem interested in letting her consider her options. He dashed at her again this time with a swing instead of a thrust. Flower ducked under the move and extended her arm with her sword to try and pierce through the giant's torso, however, the vibration that ran up her arm at her strike almost made her drop her weapon.

While she was doing this, and Ornstein's lance passed over her head he stepped forward into her weapon, pushing her back through the solidity of his armour, reversed his grip on the lance and swung it down diagonally from the other side. Flower threw herself to the floor and rolled away, but received a swift and brutal kick to the face as she did so. Her face stung and her nose felt broken. She once again retreated, only to be hunted down as if she were a rat being chased by a cat.

A blur of white bone on silver and wood commenced, every single move from the enemy being something that Flower had never seen before. As her green-clad form fled from the golden giant she realised the true threat that dragonslayer Ornstein represented. He wasn't perfect, nothing was. But everything was novel and it gave her the feeling that she was permanently off balance.

Flower had never fought against a demon, but she could very starkly feel the danger of facing a never-before-seen enemy as cuts appeared on her body, slowing her down more and more, while her own strikes failed to penetrate the dragonslayer's armour.

"Novelty indeed," she muttered distractedly as she was forced to jump in the air and spin over a brutal sideways swing of the lance. Her jian shot forth aiming for the very narrow eye-holes in Ornstein's armour, but the knight simply tilted his head forward so the sword scraped by uselessly. He kicked out at her torso. She didn't have enough energy, being barely more than a basic human in this form, and thus she was unable to dodge.

She was kicked into the air.

The lance swung from below, leaving a laceration on her torso before the damned weapon was pulled back and thrust straight at her chest. She tried to deflect it, but Ornstein struck her weapon out of the way with a twist of the crossguard, which had caught her sword in one of the spokes. The lance continued onwards to stab her in the lungs. Flower could only grit her teeth as the tip of the lance exited her back and the two tips of the cross-guard buried themselves respectively in her chest and into her stomach.

"Fuck," she grumbled as she fell on the floor, Ornstein roughly placing a foot on her face to dislodge the lance from her body.

Rather than finishing her, the bastard took a step back and dispassionately watched her bleed out on the floor.

Flower ended the instance and reappeared back in the blank space.

A frown spread across her face as she compartmentalised the pain she'd just finished experiencing. She'd never actually died from a monster created by an outer disciple, or an inner disciple for that manner. After all, usually, she'd fought several of those monsters already in slightly different scenarios created by other illusionists.

The argument that what they needed in the sect was more original creatures wasn't a new one, the issue was that it was hard to actually make something like that and that most cultivators preferred to stick to the safe route.

She was about to enter the game again when a slight hesitation in her mindset made her pause.

"Something original, can be so terrifying?" she asked herself quietly as she noted that her hands were shaking.

Sure, she'd reduced her own power a lot and refrained from using any spells or techniques, but... even if she knew that she could blow Ornstein away if she used her true power, it truly was a horrifying experience to face something and know that one had not even scratched the surface of its abilities yet.

The thought of slightly powering up, enough so that she at least matched the oddly well-developed physical strength that her opponent exhibited flitted through her mind. But then she gritted her teeth and decided that she didn't feel like admitting defeat to an illusion made by an outer disciple.

She went to face Ornstein again.

Green and gold danced in the dead cathedral while dark orchestral music played in the background.

She went to face Ornstein again.

Bone-white and silver flashed in a blur as if they were differently coloured flies trying to mate in mid-air.

She went to face Ornstein again.

Tried systematically dismantling his armour, but failed.

She went to face Ornstein again.

Tried to enter her sword through the slits in his helmet, but failed.

She went to face Ornstein again.

Succeeded in cutting him in the weak points of his armour, the joints, but traded in her life for success.

She went to face Ornstein again.

Slowed him down by stabbing his joints, and tried to go for the eye-slit. Impossible, a simple tilt of the head and the sword went askew.

She went to face Ornstein again, managed to disarm him and dismantled him slowly and efficiently as he weakly slapped at her with a pathetic unarmed fight. All extremities bleeding out, a sword through the eye-slit

She realised that the disciple hadn't programmed Ornstein in any unarmed fighting because there was no point considering his philosophy of focusing on novelty.

She went in again and faced Ornstein as he was meant to be faced, with a lance.

Died.

Through the head, torso, loss of legs, loss of arms, head smashed against a marble pillar. So many ways to die.

But Ornstein was only an algorithm in the end, she became used to the new and it became comforting. She developed counter-strategies and found the flaws.

She won, but it wasn't enough. She had to pay back the suffering she'd gone through. She went in again, and again, winning, losing, faster and faster.

In the end, when she had the golden giant kneeling at her feet, a lake of blood growing under Ornstein as he tried to lift his lance through nearly severed arms, Flower realised something.

A bright and contagious laughter filled the cathedral, accompanying the orchestral music with its ominous vocals.

She was having fun.