Chapter 37

  The news of the Grand Tournament spread like wildfire throughout the sect.

  With five months remaining, disciples across the ranks had already begun to sharpen their blades, polish their techniques, and temper their minds. This wasn’t just a tournament—it was a stage. A chance for glory, recognition, and, for some, a place in history.

  The tournament catered primarily to those in the Foundation Establishment (2nd realm) and above, but a separate bracket existed for Qi Condensation realm cultivators, specifically those at the 12th layer or higher. The prizes there weren’t flashy artifacts or ancient relics, but elemental Qi crystals, their quantity and purity increasing based on placement. For those still building their foundations, it was a treasure trove.

  Adam took it seriously. Every day mattered.

  He spent his time optimizing his body for the 4th realm, reinforcing his combat style, and refining how he could use his memory manipulation in subtle, practical ways.

  But even amidst the buzz of cultivation, some whispers carried heavier weight than others.

  “Did you hear?”

  “Yeah… the Princess is coming.”

  “They say she did something crazy at a noble banquet once.”

  At first, Adam waved it off as the usual gossip. Royalty always came with myths—some exaggerated, some entirely made up. But when the rumors persisted and even began circulating among the inner court disciples, he grew curious.

  So, he decided to visit the trio.

  He found Lan Xiaoyan, Lan Xiaomei, and Aria von Ebonreich at one of the open-air training grounds. Xiaoyan was practicing his sword, Xiaomei was working on her synergy with her dragon, and Aria… stood still, breathing deeply, daggers resting beside her.

  “Yo,” Adam greeted casually, waving. “Training hard, huh?”

  Xiaoyan glanced over, sweat dripping from his brow. “What else would we be doing, with a royal-sponsored death tournament coming up?”

  Adam chuckled. “Fair. Are you joining?”

  Xiaoyan nodded, sheathing his blade. “Yeah. That second prize, the Everflame Womb Crystal, is perfect for my path. With that, I could refine a cultivation chamber tailored to fire Qi.”

  Adam gave a low whistle. “Solid plan.”

  He paused for a moment, then leaned in slightly. “Also, I heard a little rumor. Apparently, the Princess herself is attending.”

  At that, Adam noticed Aria flinch—just slightly. It was brief, but enough. The perfectly controlled aura around her wavered for the first time.

  Adam raised an eyebrow. “So that part’s not just rumor, huh.”

  Aria clicked her tongue, clearly annoyed with herself. “…She’s my cousin,” she said after a moment. “And yes. She’s… complicated.”

  Xiaomei blinked. “Complicated how?”

  Aria didn’t answer right away. Her gaze drifted toward the horizon, as if remembering something she wished she could forget.

  “There was an incident,” she said, voice quiet. “At a noble banquet a few years ago. A young master from a minor clan tried to act important in front of her. Thought he could puff his chest just because he had a decent cultivation.”

  She paused again.

  “What happened?” Adam asked.

  Aria’s expression didn’t change. “He didn’t die, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Xiaoyan frowned. “Then?”

  “…Let’s just say he learned the difference between having pride and being allowed to show it.”

  The silence that followed felt heavy.

  Adam grimaced slightly. “Sounds rough.”

  “She always finds someone,” Aria added. “Whenever there’s a crowd.”

  Adam rubbed his chin. “…Interesting.”

  Xiaoyan narrowed his eyes. “You’re not planning something stupid, are you?”

  you?”

  “Nah, the tournament will be interesting though.”

  The town bustled with life, a blend of old-world charm and new-age cultivation influence—stone roads etched with spirit-conducting arrays, food stalls powered by Qi, and even communication talismans styled like modern wristbands.

  But Adam wasn’t here for any of that.

  He had come for one thing.

  “Celestial Delight Co.”

  He spotted it at the end of the main street, tucked between a spirit herb pharmacy and a flying treasure emporium. The restaurant looked… almost underwhelming. A simple wooden structure with sleek jade trims, the name glowing in soft neon-blue script above the door. A stylized lotus wrapped around a fork hovered beside the signage, flickering faintly.

  “Tch. Twenty-five years of waiting, and it looks like a noodle bar.”

  Still, his heart beat just a little faster.

  He stepped through the sliding wooden doors—powered, he noticed, by a refined spirit mechanism.

  Music hit him first.

  The rich, timeless swell of Mozart’s Eine kleine Nachtmusik danced through the air, played on an ancient phonograph spinning silently on a floating crystal shelf.

  Adam’s eyes widened just a bit. This wasn’t just an imitation. This was authentic.

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  Inside, the place was softly lit with sky-lanterns enchanted to hover midair, their flames changing color with the hour. The furniture was sleek, minimalist—dark mahogany trimmed with spiritual silver. The scent of spices, grilled meat, and something oddly nostalgic filled the air.

  He sat down at an open table by the glass window, the town visible through gentle condensation.

  A menu slid across the table, propelled by a subtle gust of Qi.

  He picked it up and opened it.

  And there it was—Earth dishes. Real names. But each one crafted with ingredients from this world.

  > Beef Ramen with Void Serpent Broth

  Pizza Margherita – Fire Lotus Herb Infused

  French Fries – Deep-fried in White Gold Flame Oil

  Black Forest Cake – Made with Ghost Fruit and Soul Cream

  Adam exhaled slowly, a ghost of a smile forming.

  “So… they really pulled it off.”

  Footsteps approached.

  A young woman in a clean, modern uniform stopped beside him, holding a spirit-notepad. Her hair was tied back with a talisman ribbon, and her voice was professional—but curious.

  “Welcome, honored disciple of the Grand Harmony Sect. May I take your order?”

  Adam looked up, amused. “Didn’t know my robes gave that much away.”

  She smiled. “They do. Especially when the inner disciple sigil glows whenever the menu registers your Qi.”

  He glanced at the corner of the menu—and sure enough, a tiny glowing rune reflected his energy signature.

  Adam leaned back.

  “Yeah… I’ll have some fun with this.”

  Adam didn’t even glance back at the menu.

  He closed it with a snap and looked up at the waiter, switching tongues mid-sentence.

  “Yeah, I’ll have the ramen. And while you’re at it—can you get me the manager?” His words were fluent, crisp English, his tone deliberately casual. “Because, you know, this is blatant plagiarism. Mozart? Earth dishes? I smell a lawsuit coming.”

  The waiter blinked. Her expression shifted—just for a second—from professional to unnerved.

  Adam smirked.

  Gotcha.

  She bowed slightly, eyes no longer meeting his. “Please follow me.”

  She led him behind the counter, down a narrow hallway that twisted unnaturally for a restaurant. At the end, she touched a concealed array on the wall—one Adam had almost missed. A portion of the floor shimmered, revealing a spiral staircase heading downwards.

  The air grew cooler, denser, more artificial with each step.

  Halfway down, she stopped abruptly and pressed her palm against a brick along the wall. With a soft click, a hidden door slid open to the side. Cool blue light spilled from the crack.

  She gestured silently.

  Adam didn’t speak. He stepped inside.

  Ahead of him: a metallic door, slick and strange, lined with glowing blue circuits—tech, not talisman.

  He exhaled sharply.

  "Guess this is it... another Earthling."

  His hand reached forward. The door opened automatically with a pneumatic hiss.

  Darkness greeted him.

  The moment he stepped in—

  Click.

  Whirr.

  Dozens of red lasers snapped to life, all aimed directly at his chest, head, throat.

  Two figures stood in front of him, backlit by panels of alien machinery. One wore a combat vest made from mixed leather and alloy plating, holding a plasma spear. The other had a gauntlet shaped like a data console, light flickering across the surface.

  And in perfect English:

  “You have ten seconds to tell us who the hell you are.”

  The lasers didn’t move. The two figures stood like statues, eyes locked on Adam.

  Adam raised only his right hand lazily. “Relax. I’m one of you. I’m from Earth.”

  The taller figure stepped forward—dark-skinned, dreadlocks tied back with a silver band, muscles like reinforced alloy cables under a tight vest. His voice was low, suspicious.

  “Oh really?”

  “Then gun to your head. Name me three universities.”

  Adam blinked. “First of all, your lead bullets won’t do shit to me.”

  The other figure snorted. “That’s a plasma launcher. Your cultivation defenses don’t mean jack if we pull the trigger.”

  Adam paused. “…Fair.”

  He scratched his chin. “Alright then. Umm… Harvard. MIT. And—” he gave a mock dramatic pause, “—Sugondese.”

  The dreadlocked man raised an eyebrow, already smirking.

  The second figure tilted his head. “Sugondese what?”

  Adam opened his mouth, trying not to grin. “Sugon deez—”

  “I’ma stop you right there,” the dreadlocked man cut in, holding up a hand with exaggerated authority. He turned to his partner, shaking his head. “How could you fall for that, man? You walked straight into it like it was a spiritual trap.”

  The other man blinked, then groaned, lowering his weapon an inch. “You’re kidding me.”

  Adam chuckled. “Earthling humor. Comes with the trauma.”

  “Great. We’ve got a clown.”

  But his tone still held doubt.

  “What if you're just a cultivator from a higher realm who took over the real Earthling's body? Memories, thoughts—everything absorbed.”

  Adam let out a sigh. “You know, I’m only at Foundation Establishment. Barely a fart in the wind compared to Core Formation nukes. But if I really wanted to… I could self-destruct and take this whole base down before either of you finish pulling the trigger.”

  Both men tensed. The dreadlocked one muttered a curse.

  Adam’s voice softened, suddenly serious.

  “Look. If you trust me enough… I’ll show you. Real proof.”

  He extended his hand toward the dreadlocked man.

  “Touch me. I’ll let you see.”

  The man hesitated. Then, slowly, he reached out and gripped Adam’s hand.

  Adam activated his memory manipulation ability to show.

  Flashes surged through the man’s mind:

  —A wild house party. Music, lights, red Solo cups.

  —Adam passed out on a couch.

  —Then waking up in a damp cave, alone. A different sky. A different world.

  He let go.

  Silence hung thick in the air.

  The man took a deep breath, eyes wide but focused.

  “…damn. He’s telling the truth.”

  Adam crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the wall. “You know,” he said, glancing between them, “I could’ve just ripped the whole truth straight out of your memories. But I wanted to hear it from you yourselves.”

  The dreadlocked man raised an eyebrow “That’s oddly respectful… for someone who can weaponize amnesia.”

  The other man still held his weapon half-raised, but after a side glance at his comrade, he finally lowered it and the plasma blaster with a huff.

  The dreadlocked man stepped forward, extending a hand this time. “Name’s Jalen. Earthborn. From Detroit. And this serious-faced guy is Marn, from a sci-fi sector. Whole different world.”

  Adam shook Jalen’s hand, then looked over at Marn. “ Names adam. from Minnesota. So you’re the only Earthling like me, huh?”

  Jalen nodded. “As far as I know, yeah. You’re the first Earthborn I’ve met in twenty-five years here.”

  Adam raised an eyebrow. “Damn. I thought I was going crazy thinking I was the only one.”

  “Trust me, you ain't the only one. First five years, I kept a diary like it’d magically send messages home.”

  Marn finally stepped forward, arms folded. “We weren’t just transported, Adam. We were escaping. Our home galactic sector got hit with an alien invasion. Advanced tech, impossible odds. Most people didn’t survive.”

  Adam’s face darkened a little. “...Damn.”

  Jalen continued, “We were trying to jump to Earth. My idea. I figured, if we had to run, we might as well run toward somewhere familiar. Earth was far, yeah—but it was still a reference point, a place I knew. Problem was… we were too deep in the void, too far out in some remote corner of space.”

  Marn cut in, reluctantly. “We had to divert. Hyperspace destabilized near a collapsing gravity well. Ended up here instead.”

  He paused, then added, “We were on a carrier-class colony ship. Holds up to fifty million people. We brought as many as we could… but energy’s always a problem. The jump drained everything.”

  Adam whistled. “Fifty million? That’s not a spaceship, that’s a damn city.”

  Jalen shrugged. “Pretty much.”

  Marn nodded. “We’ve been living in the mortal side of society. Low profile. Higher-realm cultivators don’t pay attention to mortals unless they stir trouble, so we’ve stayed hidden.”

  Adam nodded slowly. “Smart. Blend in where the powerful won’t bother looking.”

  Jalen tapped the side of his head. “That’s the plan. Until we figure out how to properly live in this world—or get off it.”

  Jalen’s eyes narrowed as he caught a glint from Adam’s left arm. “Yo… what’s up with your arm?”

  Adam raised his elbow slightly, revealing the sword-like appendage extending from below. “Oh, this?” he said casually, as if he’d just been asked about a scar. “Some ‘higher being’ tried to turn me into a living weapon. I survived… but let’s just say this arm’s a souvenir from that experience.”

  Jalen gave a low whistle. “Damn. That’s cold. Looks badass though.”

  “It’s mostly annoying. Try scratching your back with a sword-arm.”

  Jalen snorted. “Fair.”

  Adam looked around the restaurant interior again—classical music playing, familiar design elements, modern neon signs spliced with traditional aesthetics. “So… this restaurant gimmick. Also, your idea?”

  Jalen nodded. “Yeah. Had a hunch there were others like us out there—Earthlings, I mean. Figured something familiar might catch their eye. Even if it’s just Mozart and a cheeseburger.”

  Adam gave a short chuckle. “Well, it worked. I was honestly half-convinced I’d never meet anyone from Earth again. Getting isekai’d is strangely… common.”

  Jalen leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Not just for us, man. I’ve seen records—there are plenty of otherworlders hopping realities. Not all from Earth. Hell, Earthlings are actually rare compared to some of the others.”

  Adam nodded slowly. “Yeah. It’s the same here too. Otherworlders are known about—most people just don’t take the idea seriously unless one lands in their backyard.”

  They both fell into a quiet pause, each processing how far they'd come.

  Marn glanced at Adam with concern in his voice. “You do realize the alien fleet might send scouts, right? They could be tracking energy signatures or hyperspace residue. If they find us…”

  Adam utterly unfazed. “I wouldn’t lose sleep over it.”

  Marn blinked. “Excuse me?”

  Adam stretched his sword-arm across the table lazily. “Listen, from what I’ve seen, Soul Transformation Realm cultivators in this world are basically walking planet busters. And the realm above that? The Saint Realm?” He tapped his temple. “Those guys could probably catch an alien battleship mid-flight, crush it into a pill, and use it to breakthrough. As far as I know, these saints literally have a microcosm inside their souls — a whole universe contained within them. That’s some bullshit next-level power.”

  But Marn still looked unconvinced. “You’re underestimating the fleet. Their tech—”

  “No, you’re underestimating this world,” Adam interrupted. “Let me put it this way. This planet—this land we’re on? It’s around 49.7 million miles in size. That’s not a typo. And we’re literally living on the corpse of a Titan. A divine creature so massive and ancient that we’re just mites nesting in its bones.”

  He paused, letting that sink in before continuing. “There are at least tens of thousands—hell, maybe hundreds of thousands—of Soul Transformation cultivators here. That’s not counting Saints, and whatever abominations lurk up top. And if some alien mothership has the guts to drop in?” He shrugged. “Even the heavens might decide to smite their silicon asses with tribulation lightning for fun.”

  Marn sat back, eyes wide, lips parted.

  Jalen just said, “Damn, when you put it like that…”

  Adam chuckled. “Yeah. So unless their fleet’s packing some galaxy-tier god cannon, they’re in for a bad time.”

  Adam leaned forward, resting his sword-arm on the table. “I have a proposal for both of you. If you're willing to share some of your tech with this world, I might be able to get you a legitimate backing—someone in authority who can protect you.”

  Jalen raised a brow. “And who exactly are we talking about?”

  Adam smirked. “Sect Leader Han Wuqing of the Grand Harmony Sect.”

  Marn crossed his arms. “Can we trust him?”

  Adam didn’t flinch. “He’s a man of principle. Might curse you out while saving your life, but if he gives his word, it’s solid. And besides, you’ve seen this world for yourself. It’s not as backward as it looks. Thanks to otherworlders, there’s already a blend of cultivation and science going on. The tech here might not be space-faring yet, but it’s easily a century ahead of Earth in some areas.”

  He gestured around. “The neon signs outside? Qi-infused circuitry. The formation matrices? Complex enough to make quantum encryption look like toddler scribbles. It’s not a primitive world—it’s a different paradigm. You two are hiding because you’re scared someone will slaughter you for your knowledge. I’m giving you a chance to integrate, to belong here.”

  The room fell i

  nto silence as Jalen and Marn exchanged glances.

  After a moment, Jalen said, “We’ll need to bring this up with our higher-ups. We’re not authorized to make that kind of decision.”

  Marn nodded. “If they agree, we’ll reach out. But if your Sect Leader stabs us in the back—”

  Adam raised a hand. “He won’t. That much I can be sure off”