When Lin Mo opened his eyes, he found he had transmigrated to a world of cultivation.
There were no blessed grottoes, no elders to pass on their techniques, only a chipped bowl on the table.
Carved into the bottom of the bowl was a chilling rule: [The water in the bowl must never run dry.]
The kid next door, Xiao Liu, didn’t believe it. He poured out the water to see what was written on the bottom. The next day, he became a corpse with its joints twisted backward.
The words on the bottom of the bowl changed: [Don’t follow his example!]
The whole world believed these rules were lifeless objects, shackles meant to imprison them.
Then Lin Mo touched the bottom of the bowl and miraculously survived, bringing a “crack” into his own body. He saw the ultimate truth of this world:
Every rule had been forged from the corpses of cultivators who had been harvested!
Beneath those cold words, countless dead souls were pleading for help, weeping, begging those who came after them, “Don’t look back!”
Everyone else begged the gods for help. Lin Mo alone studied loopholes in the rules.
While others were still avoiding taboos, he had already begun turning the rules against his powerful enemies and devouring them. While the cultivation world still knelt before the “Black Fingernail” gods, Lin Mo was using the reasoning of a modern person to pry open a crack through which he could kill them.
The one who wrote the rules made a mistake.
He should never have left that one “crack” untouched by the rules in front of Lin Mo.
If the rules are the dead, then I’ll trample your corpses underfoot and rewrite the laws of this world!
