I died as a hardcore gamer, only to open my eyes in a cultivation fantasy I once played. Not as the hero. Not even as a helpful mentor. or a big villian... But as the cannon fodder destined to die before the first act even concludes.
I recognize this world instantly—the sprawling mansions of nobility, the immortal sects hidden in misty mountains, the power hierarchy where cultivators stand above common folk. I've played through this story dozens of times, defeated every hidden boss, unlocked every secret ending. And now I'm trapped inside it, wearing the skin of the game's first villain.
My position? The worthless young master of a prestigious family, universally despised yet secretly possessing a dormant bloodline that nobody in-game ever discovered because this character dies too quickly.
But something is wrong. Characters are behaving differently than they did in the game. Events are unfolding in unexpected ways. The cold beauty who should immediately despise me seems strangely interested in my skills. The vixen villianess who orchestrated my demise now studies me with curiosity.
Is my presence changing the storyline? Or was there always more to this world than what players could see through their screens?
With each deviation from the script I memorized, my meta-knowledge becomes less reliable. Yet it remains my greatest weapon as I navigate political intrigue, forge unlikely alliances, and desperately work to awaken powers that were never meant to be unlocked by a character designed only to die.
I refuse to be expendable. I reject the role assigned to me. In a world where destiny is supposedly predetermined, I will rewrite the algorithm itself—or break the entire system trying.

Honestly, when he looked up, he couldn't understand what Liuli was warning him about. But in the next second, under Yino's suspicious gaze, the supposedly dying Jinyue in his arms secretly curved her lips into a smile.


Time seemed to slow as a black-red demon tail pierced through from the side. Yino's consciousness lagged a step behind, but his body instinctively moved first, dodging to the side.


The demon tail struck like a sharp drill, smashing into the crimson palace floor and raising clouds of dust.


Simultaneously, Yino retreated several steps, filled wariness as he stared at the Jinyue who was smiling slyly while slowly rising from the smoke.


Her somewhat twisted laughter gradually echoed.


Under everyone's watchful eyes, the supposedly dying foxgirl rose from the ground at an eerie angle.


Chapter 373 - Ch 373 - What kind of Dress!!!