In his previous life, he was a Nascent Soul-stage evil cultivator. Surrounded and slain by the twelve great patriarchs of the righteous path, he died by self-detonation.
When he opened his eyes again, he was a bedridden patient who had been in a vegetative state for half a year. His family was destitute, he owed four hundred thousand, his fiancée had broken off their engagement, and his uncle wanted to seize the house.
Even more absurdly, spiritual energy was scarce in this world, yet vengeful spirits ran rampant.
Kayako, Sadako, Chu Renmei… The ghosts from horror movies were now claiming lives in the real world.
The 749 Bureau came knocking. “You’re the strongest psychic we’ve ever encountered.”
Chen Yuan smiled. A psychic? He was an evil cultivator.
The nightmares in everyone else’s eyes were resources for his cultivation. Soul-locking arrays, spirit-seizing arts, refining corpses into weapons: the stronger the vengeful spirit, the faster he leveled up.
Others risked their lives to complete S-rank missions. He volunteered to watch the videotape. “Sadako? I’ll wait seven days for her. She won’t disappoint me.”
When the SS-rank event Silent Hill descended, the entire 749 Bureau withdrew.
Chen Yuan, however, walked right in.
People in this world had no idea: the person they had recruited wasn’t some psychic.
He was an evil cultivator patriarch who had once stood at the peak of the cultivation world.
So what if this was the Age of Declining Dharma? Evil cultivators have never been picky eaters.
