Lu Tzang stared at the crowbar embedded in the cracked ground before him, its faint glow casting an eerie light against the fractured terrain.
He hesitated for a moment, then reached out cautiously, wrapping his fingers around its cool, smooth surface.
The sensation was immediate—electric, yet subtle, like an invisible current running through his skin and straight into his core.
"What the…?" he muttered, tightening his grip instinctively.
The crowbar seemed to pulse faintly in response, as though acknowledging his touch.
Immediately, warmth began to emanate from it, spreading through his hand and up his arm.
Suddenly, his vision blurred.
A mechanical Ding! echoed in his ears, and a translucent system screen materialized before him:
Ding!
The host has received the novel Arc One, Part One of Ten Memories.
Unlocking hidden memories and knowledge of key events in the world!
…
Lu Tzang's jaw dropped as the words settled into his mind. "Hmm… I already received it earlier."
He staggered slightly, the crowbar still in his grip as waves of new information flooded his consciousness.
He saw flashes of scenes he had never read before: critical moments, hidden twists, and subtle details the original author had never made public.
"Yep, I saw it all," he exclaimed, a mixture of shock and elation on his face. "I thought I'd have to stumble my way through this world like some clueless idiot! I'm glad I got this, and this changes everything too!"
The realization struck him hard.
Unlike the typical transmigrators he'd read about in countless web novels, who seemed to recall every last detail of the worlds they were thrust into, Lu Tzang had been left blind, relying only on his incomplete understanding of the novel he'd casually read back on Earth.
"Honestly, who remembers an entire novel word for word? Those transmigrators are absurd," he grumbled, still reeling from the flood of knowledge. "But now… now I've got a cheat like them. Finally!"
The crowbar in his hands suddenly vibrated, jolting him out of his thoughts.
The vibrations were rhythmic, almost like a heartbeat, and a faint hum accompanied the sensation.
The metal seemed to resonate in his grasp, the vibrations growing stronger and spreading through his body.
"Whoa! What's happening now?!" Lu Tzang exclaimed, holding the crowbar at arm's length as if it might explode.
Despite his initial panic, he couldn't help but marvel at the sensation—it wasn't unpleasant, but rather empowering, as though the crowbar itself was alive and responding to him.
Another Ding! echoed, and a second message appeared:
Ding!
Congratulations, host!
You have obtained the Immortal Wrecking Crowbar.
An indestructible tool forged to shatter any Mortal Formations or constructions with ease. No mortal-built barrier, wall, or mechanism can withstand its might!
…
Lu Tzang blinked at the screen, then down at the crowbar in his hands. "Immortal Wrecking Crowbar? Seriously? That's… the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," he said, but a wide grin spread across his face. "I love it!"
He swung the crowbar experimentally, testing its weight. "Not too heavy, not too light… Actually, it's perfect. Balanced, even," he muttered, twirling it like a baton. "But… Can I use it as a weapon? Let's see…"
He started with a few basic swings, mimicking the moves he'd seen in martial arts movies back on Earth.
"HAH! Take that! And that!" he shouted, spinning the crowbar around and slamming it into an imaginary enemy.
The sound of air slicing around the crowbar was oddly satisfying.
"Okay, not bad. Definitely feels powerful," he said, nodding to himself. "But what about… more finesse?"
He held the crowbar with both hands, crouching slightly before launching into an exaggerated series of spins and flips.
"Watch out, mortal formations! Your time has come!" he yelled, leaping into the air and bringing the crowbar down with a thunderous CRACK! into the ground.
The impact created a small crater, dust and pebbles flying everywhere.
Lu Tzang coughed, waving away the debris. "Oops. Guess I don't know my own strength now."
He examined the crowbar more closely, running his fingers along its surface. "What else can you do, huh? Let's test that indestructibility claim."
He lifted the crowbar and slammed it against a nearby boulder. The rock shattered instantly, splitting into dozens of fragments.
The crowbar, meanwhile, remained pristine, not a scratch or dent on its surface.
"Okay, this thing is officially awesome," Lu Tzang said, nodding appreciatively. He tapped the crowbar against his palm, as though deep in thought. "Now, what about defense? Can I block with it?"
He raised the crowbar in front of him like a shield, imagining a barrage of attacks coming his way. "Ha! Nice try! Too bad I've got the ultimate tool!" he shouted, stepping side to side as if dodging invisible blows.
After several minutes of exaggerated maneuvers and self-imposed commentary, Lu Tzang finally stopped, leaning on the crowbar like a walking stick. He was breathing heavily but grinning ear to ear.
"Alright, I'm sold. This crowbar is the real deal," he said, patting it affectionately.
As he stood there, basking in his newfound treasure, a voice suddenly broke the silence.
"Fellow Daoist," the voice called, calm yet commanding.
Lu Tzang froze, his grip tightening on the crowbar as he whipped around, his heart skipping a beat.
Who—or what—had just spoken?
Lu Tzang turned to the source of the voice and was momentarily stunned.
A boy, no older than fourteen or fifteen, stood a short distance away, dressed in simple yet well-tailored robes.
His smile was warm, almost disarmingly so, but there was something off about him. His features were sharp—razor-sharp.
His cheekbones high, his jawline like it had been carved from stone, and his eyes… those were the most unsettling.
They glimmered with an intensity that seemed to pierce through layers of a person's soul, yet his smile held the deceptive innocence of youth.
His movements, though calm, were deliberate, calculated even, as if each step and gesture was part of an intricate strategy.
The boy cupped his hands in a respectful gesture, bowing slightly. "Greetings, fellow cultivator," he said, his voice as smooth as silk yet carrying a strange weight behind it.
"My name is An Mo. I am but a wandering mortal cultivator like yourself." He paused, his smile deepening. "Forgive my intrusion, but I couldn't help but notice your display of strength just now. Truly remarkable."
Lu Tzang narrowed his eyes slightly but forced a neutral expression. Internally, he was screaming. "Mo Tian! The Main Character! The Harem Protagonist!"
The realization hit him like a truck. He tried not to react outwardly, knowing full well the significance of the person standing before him.
How does he know?
In the novel, Mo Tian always introduces himself as An Mo, to hide his true identity whenever he does something shady and questionable.
However, in the synopsis, he was Mo Tian, the Asura sent to this world on a mission to wipe out all the intelligent creatures and train in the lower realm, and had been raised by human parents who instilled in him a benevolent heart—at least for now.
However, he lost his memory due to an accident from their higher Asura realm. Now, he would become the lower protector and have his own harem!
Lu Tzang had just read the first part of the novel's memories and the synopsis, and this scene was coming straight from it.
Mo Tian's immortal cultivation master had sent him here to interact with mortal cultivators, a test of both strength and character.
This boy standing before him was not just dangerous—he was lethal.
But why was he smiling so warmly now?
Mo Tian or now called An Mo continued, his voice steady and inviting.
"I should not linger long, for I have my own path to walk, but seeing you has rekindled memories of my early days." He exhaled wistfully, looking up at the distant sky as though reminiscing.
"I hail from a small mountain village, one so remote that even the most wandering of cultivators rarely pass through it. My parents were simple folk—farmers who toiled from sunrise to sunset, and though our lives were modest, they were rich in love and peace."
Lu Tzang barely managed to stifle a scoff. "The infamous Mo Tian… telling a sob story?" he thought, but outwardly, he remained respectful.
An Mo continued, his expression growing tender. "When I was just a child, my parents would often fall ill from the harsh mountain winters.
"No physicians came to our aid, so I took it upon myself to learn the ways of herbs and remedies, wandering the wilderness to find cures for their ailments. The first time I managed to concoct a poultice that saved my mother from fever…"
He paused, his voice catching ever so slightly. "It was the proudest moment of my life."
Lu Tzang's mind raced. "He's good. Too good. I almost believed that for a second."
An Mo chuckled softly, shaking his head. "But fate, as it often does, was unkind. Raiders came to our village one dark winter night, and though I fought to protect them, I was just a boy. My parents were…"
He trailed off, his smile fading for a moment.
"Gone. But even in tragedy, I found purpose. I wandered from village to village, offering what little skills I had as a healer to those in need. Eventually, I learned that not all poisons are physical. Sometimes, a broken heart or a shattered spirit can be far deadlier than any venom."
Lu Tzang's eyes flickered with disbelief. "He's spinning a whole damn novel just standing there! Who does he think he's fooling?"
An Mo's smile returned, now tinged with a hint of melancholy.
"But enough about my past. You must wonder what brings me here. I have dedicated myself to understanding the nature of toxins, be they in the body or the soul. My path has led me to seek out those who walk strange and dangerous roads, as you seem to. After all…"
He gestured toward the ground where Shen Rui and Shen Zhi lay unconscious. "One cannot help but be curious about such extraordinary displays of power, but my friend, it seems you needed my help."
Lu Tzang forced himself to relax, letting a faint, polite smile across his lips. He folded his hands behind his back, adopting a respectful posture.
"It seems you have a truly benevolent heart, Fellow Daoist An Mo," he said, his voice steady. "But tell me… what does an expert of poison seek from someone like me?"