Chapter 1: Seizing the Body

Shen Siyuan jolted awake from his dream, gasping for breath and feeling a wave of numbness and aching in his arm.

“Where am I?” he muttered.

His mind still reeled from the thunderous tribulation that had filled his dreams. His physical body had been destroyed, his soul damaged, and his spiritual sense sluggish, leaving him hazy and disoriented.

“Hey, Old Shen, what’s wrong? Are you still half-asleep?” his colleague Li Kang, sitting beside him, jabbed him with the tip of a pen.

Only then did Shen Siyuan snap back to reality, turning to look at the other man.

“Kang the Pockmarked?”

“You’re the one with pockmarks, damn it! Call me Brother Kang,” Li Kang said, tossing his pen onto the desk with a disgruntled look.

Shen Siyuan ignored him, glancing around. The familiar surroundings gradually brought his senses back into focus.

“Bad dream?” Li Kang asked again.

Shen Siyuan nodded.

He truly had just experienced a nightmare—he’d dreamed of a demonic cultivator from the Great Wilderness who, after failing to pass a heavenly tribulation, was reduced to a remnant soul. This soul traversed to this world, intending to devour his spirit and seize his body for rebirth. Unexpectedly, Shen Siyuan had reversed their fates and devoured the demon’s soul instead.

But the dream had felt too real, especially the memories he’d gained after absorbing the demon’s remnant soul—it was as if those things had truly happened.

Within those memories, the demon cultivator, known as the Lord of the Nine Netherworlds, had wrought chaos and bloodshed in the Great Wilderness. After surviving countless thunder tribulations and the siege of righteous sects, he was ultimately destroyed—his only remnant soul barely escaping, sheltered by his life-bound magical treasure. Somehow, he’d crossed over to this world and entered Shen Siyuan’s sea of consciousness.

At this thought, Shen Siyuan focused his mind. In his palm appeared a soul banner, no bigger than his hand.

“Damn, it wasn’t just a dream after all.” Shen Siyuan was genuinely startled.

He carefully inspected the soul banner. Though it was now battered and incomplete, its extraordinary nature was still evident.

The banner’s shaft was jade-like, translucent, with specks of starlight swirling upon it as if actual stars drifted within. The banner itself was deep purple, arcane sigils flickering along its edges, exuding an aura of noble grandeur. Two characters, “Netherworld,” flared on its surface, flickering and shifting like flames.

Even in its ruined state, an ordinary person would feel dizzy with just a glance at it, as if their very soul were being drawn inside.

With a thought, Shen Siyuan retracted the soul banner back into his body—it moved as naturally as an extension of his own arm.

If this was real, did that mean he could cultivate now?

As a humble cog in society, who hadn’t dreamed of taking control of their fate, of one day shouting out, “I refuse to eat humble pie any longer!” Yet, when one is as insignificant as an ant, grand ambitions are often nothing but empty dreams.

But now things were different. If he could truly cultivate, it would be as if wings had sprouted upon his back, giving him the means to soar to the heavens.

He hurriedly searched through the fragments of the Lord of the Nine Netherworlds’ memories, but soon his face fell with disappointment.

This world was utterly devoid of spiritual energy, the very air thick and polluted. The path of internal cultivation was completely cut off. This was why the Lord of the Nine Netherworlds had abandoned his ghostly practices, hoping instead to seize a body and walk the path of tempering the flesh, striving to achieve physical sainthood.

Despite being a demonic cultivator, the Lord of the Nine Netherworlds had toppled dynasties and unleashed countless massacres—he certainly lacked no methods for forging the physical body.

Moreover, within the soul banner was a hidden space, where he’d stored the loot plundered over the years—treasures of heaven and earth in abundance.

Yet with no cultivation base, Shen Siyuan couldn’t control the soul banner or access the space within. The banner itself was now so damaged that who knew how much of its contents remained.

He stood before a mountain of treasure, yet had no way to enter—he could only gaze longingly from afar, a truly bitter feeling.

“Old Shen, your reimbursement forms.”

Just then, Zhou Chuan, who sat across the partition, handed over a stack of reimbursement slips, interrupting his thoughts.

Shen Siyuan took them and saw that they were indeed his own.

Though just an ordinary employee, he had a monthly reimbursement quota, mostly for overtime meals and taxi fares. But every slip needed the department manager’s signature, then had to be submitted to finance for another signature, before finally getting the money.

Zhou Chuan was their Operations Department manager.

“Brother Chuan, I’ll head to Finance then,” Shen Siyuan said as he got up and glanced around.

Despite the torrent of foreign memories, Shen Siyuan felt no discomfort—everything around him was just as familiar as ever, as if his earlier ordeal had been nothing but a dream.

“Brother Shen, take my reimbursement forms too!”

“And mine!”

“In that case, take mine as well.”

Even Manager Zhou Chuan handed over his slips.

“You guys really…” Shen Siyuan could only shake his head, but took them all anyway.

Radiant Animation wasn’t a large company, but it had three to four hundred employees, divided into two independent departments: Online Games and Standalone Games. Shen Siyuan worked in the Online Games Operations Department.

Departments like Finance and Administration, however, were centralized and managed the entire company.

The Finance Department wasn’t big—just seven or eight people.

Shen Siyuan knocked on the door. The lively chatter inside fell instantly silent.

A pleasant female voice called out, “Come in.”

Shen Siyuan pushed the door open and was struck by a refreshing coolness, along with a faint scent of cosmetics.

He didn’t bother to take in the details of the office, but walked straight to a young woman wearing glasses.

“Accountant Fu, I’m from the Online Games Operations Department—here are our reimbursement forms.” He wasted no words and handed them over.

Accountant Fu was about twenty-four or twenty-five, a bit plump, with black-rimmed glasses. She took the forms and began flipping through them quickly.

Shen Siyuan didn’t leave right away; he waited quietly, as receipts affixed incorrectly would be sent back for re-pasting.

Sure enough, Accountant Fu soon pulled out one form and handed it back to him.

“This one needs to be re-pasted.”

“All right.” Shen Siyuan was about to take it when a small head suddenly popped up beside him.

He looked down, and his heart leapt with joy—a little girl was clinging to the edge of the desk, standing on tiptoe and peering curiously over its surface.

He never could have imagined that spirits existed in this world—and this little girl’s soul was pure and unblemished, perfect material for repairing the soul banner.

No, no, what am I thinking? Shen Siyuan quickly suppressed the terrifying thought, realizing that swallowing the Lord of the Nine Netherworlds’ soul had indeed left an influence on him.

“Mister, what are you doing?” the little girl asked, tilting her head up to look at him.

For the first time, Shen Siyuan got a good look at her.

She was about three or four years old, as delicate as a porcelain doll, with large, lively eyes and chubby, rosy cheeks—utterly adorable.

It didn’t surprise her that he didn’t answer. After all this time, she’d grown used to being ignored.

She seemed vaguely familiar to Shen Siyuan—he must have seen her around the company before.

It wasn’t uncommon—on workdays, employees sometimes brought their children when no one else could look after them, especially during school holidays. As long as the kids didn’t disrupt anyone’s work, no one minded.

This little girl was probably the child of someone in Finance.

He glanced around; the entire department was staffed by women—apart from the manager, who was in her forties or fifties, and a woman in her thirties, the rest were young ladies much like Accountant Fu.

So, the little girl was likely the daughter of that woman in her thirties.

They all worked in the same company, and Shen Siyuan knew their names. The woman was Jiang Wenxin, not officially an employee of Radiant Animation but a financial officer sent by the investors, holding a very special position.

After sweeping his eyes over the department, Shen Siyuan didn’t linger. But before leaving, he reached out and gently patted the little girl’s shoulder.

She looked up, first surprised, then bursting into a bright smile.

“Mister, you can see me?” she exclaimed.

Shen Siyuan simply smiled at her and walked out.

The little girl immediately trotted after him, her tiny legs waddling in a way that made her look just like a penguin—utterly endearing.