Pain.
A raw, searing agony carved through flesh and bone, forcing consciousness upon him.
Lu Chen's eyes snapped open, and all he saw was darkness. His breath came in ragged gasps, and something warm and sticky pooled beneath him.
Blood, his blood.
His mind reeled, his senses overwhelmed by the sharp metallic tang in the air and the unbearable ache radiating from his ribs and abdomen. He tried to move, but the moment he did, his body screamed in protest.
Then, the memories hit him all at once.
No, not his memories.
Fragments of another life forced themselves into his mind. A name, a past, a death.
He was Lu Chen, an outer disciple of the Azure Sky Sect. A nobody, a waste.
This body's original owner had just been ambushed and left for dead in the sect's outer courtyard. He had no strength left, no cultivation base to defend himself. He was dying.
And he wasn't alone.
A shadow loomed over him, blocking the faint moonlight filtering through the bamboo trees. A cold voice, filled with disdain, echoed through the silence.
"You should have died quietly, Lu Chen. Did you really think a piece of trash like you could compete with me?"
The voice belonged to Zhao Feng.
A flash of memory surfaced, this man had killed him.
Zhao Feng, an inner disciple of the sect, was a rising talent—proud, arrogant, and utterly ruthless. And the reason Lu Chen was bleeding out on the ground? He had dared to challenge Zhao Feng's influence.
Not directly. No, Lu Chen had merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He had overheard something, something he wasn't supposed to know. A conversation between Zhao Feng and another inner disciple, discussing an upcoming sect examination. A scheme to eliminate a rival.
Lu Chen had only wanted to report it to the elders, thinking it would earn him merit. But before he could act, Zhao Feng had intercepted him.
Now, he was dying.
The realization settled deep in his chest. His first day in this world, and he was already about to die.
Was this how transmigration worked? No golden fingers? No miraculous system? Just an immediate, miserable end?
His vision blurred. His limbs trembled. His body was failing him.
And then
A voice, not his own, echoed in his mind.
[Fate Simulation Activated]
The words rang clear and powerful, resonating within his mind. Foreign yet familiar.
[Current Status: Mortal | Dying]
[Simulation Available]
Lu Chen's breath hitched.
A system? A literal system??
Before he could even process it, another message followed.
[Would you like to begin a Life Simulation?]
Yes. YES.
The world around him blurred and twisted, like time itself rewinding. His body felt weightless, his pain numbed.
And then, suddenly, he was watching himself.
First Attempt: The Paths of Death
Lu Chen stood outside his body, observing a projection of himself from multiple angles.
The system began feeding him choices and possible outcomes.
[First Choice: Stay silent and play dead.]
[He watched as Zhao Feng stepped closer, narrowed his eyes, then casually stabbed his sword into Lu Chen's heart.]
[Result: Death.]
[Second Choice: Beg for mercy.]
[The image shifted. He saw himself gasping, pleading. Zhao Feng smirked. Then, with a single downward thrust, he severed his spine.]
[Result: Death.]
[Third Choice: Attack with a hidden blade.]
[This time, his projection lunged forward—a last, desperate strike. But Zhao Feng was faster. He sidestepped and ran his sword straight through Lu Chen's throat.]
[Result: Death.]
Lu Chen's mind raced. No matter what he did, he died.
[Then, the fourth option appeared.]
[Fourth Choice: Speak First, Stall for time.]
[He saw himself saying something, something that made Zhao Feng hesitate. Followed by an attack sequence and a desperate escape.]
[Result: Survived.]
The world snapped back to reality.
Lu Chen gasped, eyes widening as his mind returned to his dying body.
His chest heaved. His real body was still in the exact moment he had left it.
But this time, he had foreknowledge. He had seen the path to survival.
He forced his lips to move, his voice hoarse and weak.
"Zhao Feng…" he rasped. "You're going to kill me… but did you ever wonder who saw you do it?"
Zhao Feng's expression flickered.
Doubt.
A slight hesitation.
It was enough.
Lu Chen forced his failing body into action. With a sudden jerk, he rolled to the side just as Zhao Feng's sword stabbed downward.
The blade grazed his ribs, a shallow but burning cut, but it missed his heart.
Zhao Feng snarled, realizing his mistake too late.
Lu Chen twisted onto his side, using every ounce of his remaining strength to kick at Zhao Feng's knee.
It wasn't a powerful attack, but it was enough to disrupt Zhao Feng's balance.
The older disciple stumbled slightly, and that was when Lu Chen acted.
With his free hand, he grabbed a fistful of dirt and hurled it into Zhao Feng's eyes.
Zhao Feng cursed loudly, staggering backward as he wiped at his face.
Lu Chen didn't hesitate. He ran.
He ignored the agony in his legs, ignored the blood loss, ignored everything except the desperate need to survive.
The cold night wind stung against his wounds as he sprinted through the outer disciple quarters, barely holding himself together.
Behind him, Zhao Feng's furious shout echoed through the darkness.
"LU CHEN! YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME!"
But Lu Chen wasn't planning to run forever.
As his mind cleared, he knew one thing.
Survival was only the beginning.
He had a system that could rewrite fate itself.
Fate Simulation...
Lu Chen's lips curled into a determined smile.