1: Chapter 1: A Third Leg for Your Own?

"Stretch out your hand, and I'll whip you all night long."

Wu Xi's voice was low as he stared at the man to his side who was trying to reach out and steal half of his coarse grain cake.

The man's hand paused, his eyes fearful; he swallowed hard and shrank back two steps.

"Scram." Wu Xi spat out the word without the slightest softening in his tone, and the man turned around and ducked back to the end of the line.

Wu Xi rubbed his fists. A few days ago, he had sparred with the leader of this group three times. Relying on the military boxing he had mastered in college—parrying, straight punches, side kicks—he had fought to a draw.

He knew clearly that in this godforsaken place, when dealing with such bullies, one couldn't show a shred of weakness, or one might end up losing their life.

The line continued to shuffle forward. The air in the mine cave grew increasingly stuffy, making everyone cough.

The mine lamp overhead flickered on and off, its light barely illuminating the narrow passage ahead. The walls were made of dark brown rock, covered in sticky water droplets.

They dripped onto the ground with a rhythmic "tap, tap," mixing with the mud underfoot, making the ground slippery and easy to fall on.

The people around him were all dressed in rags, with scraps of cloth hanging from their bodies that couldn't cover the wounds on their arms and legs. Some had scabbed over and turned black, while others were still oozing blood, caked with dirt and emitting a foul, fishy stench.

Some were barefoot, their soles worn down to bloody blisters. Every step made them frown, yet they dared not utter a sound, only gritting their teeth to keep up with the line.

"Did you hear? Cannibalism has appeared again at the Bone Pile outside the city." Two men nearby huddled together, their voices kept extremely low, their tones filled with fear.

"Really? I just heard a few days ago that the village in the west was overrun by Demon Ghosts. Why is this happening again?"

"Could it be fake? My cousin is outside the city; he said that people driven mad by hunger are even scrambling to eat the dead. It's too terrifying."

Wu Xi listened to their conversation and couldn't help but think back to the day of his Transmigration three days ago.

He was a twenty-year-old fresh graduate from a non-prestigious university. He had submitted thirty-eight resumes during campus recruitment, attended twelve interviews, and finally received one offer: a monthly salary of 3,500, one day off a week, and a six-month probation period without social security.

He remembered leaving the office building that day in heavy rain. He had smoked half a pack of cigarettes at the bus stop, wondering if he should go back to his hometown to take the civil service exams.

Then, an out-of-control Santana sent him here.

By absorbing the memories of the original owner, Wu Xi gained a rough understanding of this world. It was a world where Demon Ghosts and humans coexisted. Martial arts and Spells were extremely scarce, and everywhere were dilapidated villages and abandoned cities, with desolate fields and food shortages.

Ordinary people lived one day at a time; starving to death or being eaten by Demon Ghosts were the most common ways to die. Once night fell, all kinds of Demon Ghosts would roam out to gnaw on the living, committing all sorts of atrocities.

The original owner had been a street urchin since childhood. Some time ago, someone approached him saying there were Spells to learn in the mine cave and that they would provide enough food. Without a second thought, he followed the crowd here.

Wu Xi frowned tightly. The scene before him was highly likely a scam; perhaps they were being used as forced labor, or even sold to more dangerous places.

Under the current circumstances, with the situation unclear, he could only play it by ear. If he could snag a full meal, that would be good.

The group walked for about an hour before the path suddenly opened up, revealing a huge clearing. It looked like it had been forcibly dug out. Scattered around were many old wooden boards and stones, suggesting that people had stayed here before. Everyone stopped and collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air, their faces full of exhaustion.

Just then, a Bald Instructor walked over from the other side of the clearing. He was tall and burly, with a shaved head and a hideous scar running from his forehead down to his chin.

"I am your instructor. From now on, you all belong to me," the Bald Instructor said, his voice raspy like sandpaper rubbing against wood.

At the same time, he pulled a pottery jar from his bosom and lifted the lid. A stench of rot instantly permeated the air.

The jar contained half a pot of black water, with a few strands of hair-like things floating on the surface, still wriggling slightly.

"This is a 'Wandering Soul,' the lowest class of ghost. It has no consciousness and only knows how to possess the living by instinct." The Bald Instructor extended two fingers and plucked a black shadow from the jar. The thing struggled between his fingers, emitting a faint sound that resembled a baby crying or a cat in heat.

"Watch closely. The Ghost-Eating Technique has one core concept—Devour."

The Bald Instructor tossed the black shadow into the air, quickly formed seals with his hands, and began to chant.

Wu Xi pricked up his ears and barely managed to catch a few syllables: "...Zhong Kui above, this Disciple borrows the Law... Devour the ghost, consume the Soul, transform it for my own use..."

Before he finished speaking, a phantom suddenly rose up behind him.

The phantom was initially only the size of a normal person, but in the blink of an eye, it expanded to three zhang in height. It had a green face and fangs, wore a tattered gauze cap, was draped in a scarlet robe, and held a gleaming sword in its right hand.

Most terrifying was its mouth—the corners split all the way to the ears, the mouth full of sharp teeth like steel knives, the tongue bright red and fat, hanging down a full half-foot.

"Zhong... Zhong Kui?" someone exclaimed in a trembling voice.

The Dharma Image seemed to hear the sound. Its massive head turned slightly, and its pupil-less eye sockets scanned the crowd.

Everyone touched by that gaze felt a chill run through their entire body; a few even collapsed directly to the ground.

"Devour!"

It did not slash at the ghost with its sword as everyone had imagined, but instead—opened its mouth. The extent to which its mouth opened completely defied physiological common sense; the lower jaw almost hung down to its chest, and deep in its throat was a swirling darkness, as if connected to some unspeakable abyss.

The black shadow let out a shrill shriek, desperate to escape, but it was caught by an invisible suction force and dragged inch by inch toward that giant maw.

The process was very slow.

Wu Xi could clearly see the black shadow's struggle; it would stretch like silk, then curl into a ball, emitting wails of various frequencies.

When it was sucked to the edge of the Dharma Image's mouth, it even extended a few mist-like Tentacles, clinging tightly to the Dharma Image's teeth as if begging for mercy.

The Dharma Image had no expression, only a gurgling sound like swallowing came from deep in its throat. Then it closed its mouth.

Crunch. It sounded more like something being crushed and digested. The Dharma Image's cheeks bulged, its Adam's apple rolled, and on that green-faced, fanged visage, a hint of satisfaction actually appeared.

It extended its bright red tongue, licked the residue from the corners of its mouth, and slowly retracted back into the Bald Instructor's body.

The mine cave was deathly silent.

"Did you understand?" The Bald Instructor turned around. "This is the Ghost-Eating Technique. Swallow the ghost into your belly to refine it, then use it to temper your Physical Body and cast Spells."

"Ghosts eat humans to increase their Cultivation, and humans eating ghosts is the same."

He paused and continued: "After the Demon Ghosts appeared fifty years ago, the world has only known the law of the jungle. Either you become strong, or you get eaten. There is no third path."

Having said this, he waved his hand behind him. Several subordinates walked over carrying a wooden tray, on which were many yellowed pages and some black pills, emitting a faint, fishy odor.

The crowd surged forward. Wu Xi reacted extremely quickly; taking advantage of the chaos, he reached out and snatched two sets of pages, then grabbed two secret pills.

"This is the 'Sanyuan Art,' the basic Cultivation Technique for Body Refining," the Bald Instructor's voice came. "For a Mortal to Cultivate, they must first pass through the four Realms: Opening the Underworld, Entangling Silk, Generating Bone, and Expelling the Sac. This incomplete version of the Cultivation Technique only has the first three levels, enough for you to reach the Generating Bone Realm."

Wu Xi looked at the second scrap of paper. It recorded a chant, accompanied by a few diagrams of hand gestures.

"The 'Ghost-Eating Technique' introductory chapter, also incomplete," the Bald Instructor sneered. "It only has the Attraction Incantation, which can draw a ghost in front of you. But for you, it's enough—in three days, if you can use the Attraction Incantation to draw this Wandering Soul into your palm, you pass."

"Or if you enter the Opening the Underworld Realm of the 'Sanyuan Art' and trigger a change in your Physical Body, that also counts as passing. You can join the Patrol Squad, while the rest can stay in the mine cave to mine."

With that, the crowd scattered. Those who had snatched a Cultivation Technique found a corner to start studying, while those who hadn't could only wait longingly for others to finish reading.

"Instructor, this Ghost-Eating Technique and Sanyuan Art are too powerful. If we could practice them, we would definitely become strong." Not far away, the voice of the Bald Instructor's subordinate was full of envy.

The Bald Instructor sneered, "Powerful? You think these are good things? With their Aptitude, if they practice for too long, they will either become bloodthirsty or die from a backlash."

The subordinate was stunned: "Then why do you still teach it to them?"

"This Cultivation Technique is one of the few that allows for quick success, passed down by the Cave Master," the Bald Instructor said while scratching his head.

"The number of minor ghosts on the outskirts of the mine cave is increasing, and the Patrol Squad urgently needs to be replenished. I can't worry about anything else."

On the other side, Wu Xi found a hidden, wind-sheltered rock crevice in the distance. By the faint light of the oil lamp on the wall, he carefully examined the two Cultivation Techniques in his hands.

Wu Xi muttered in his heart: "System? Panel?"

No response.

"Grandpa?"

Still nothing.

Two days passed quickly, and there was gradually some movement in the mine cave.

Some could barely lift small stones from the ground; others had practiced the basics of the Sanyuan Art, their skin becoming tighter, and they could crack small rocks with a punch.

Wu Xi sat in a corner, repeatedly chanting the mantra of the Sanyuan Art, his hands gesturing according to the Cultivation Technique, but his body had no reaction at all.

He frowned, muttering to himself: If I don't have a Golden Finger, that's fine, but is my Aptitude really that bad? Others can grasp some basics in two days, why do I have no reaction at all?

The Sanyuan Art is said to be a Body Refining Cultivation Technique, but it actually focuses on "Physical Body change"—not training muscles, but changing the essence of the Physical Body. However, there was a sentence in the notes that caught Wu Xi's attention:

"At the highest Realm, the Physical Body is no longer human."

"No longer human? Into what?"

A section of the mantra was very awkward. Wu Xi read it three times and always felt something was wrong.

Especially the opening line: "Heaven and Earth as the furnace, Soul as the copper, my body is…"

"My body is what?" Wu Xi frowned. He tried to gesture according to the manual while silently chanting the mantra.

He stared at the incomplete text and filled in his identity from before his Transmigration—

"...My body is, a twenty-first-century college student, a successor of socialism..."

The moment the words fell, he felt the surrounding air solidify.

Wu Xi was overjoyed. Had his Golden Finger arrived?

Before Wu Xi could be happy, a strange feeling came from his lower body. It wasn't the soreness of Physical Body strengthening, but an itch coming from his tailbone.

A cold voice suddenly rang in his mind: [Cultivating Sanyuan Art (Incomplete), binding successful.]

Wu Xi reached out to touch his tailbone. His fingertips touched a wet, sticky thing that was ice-cold and slightly slimy, as if it had just been pulled out of water.

He looked down abruptly and saw several light purple Tentacles emerging from his tailbone. They were resilient, and their surfaces were coated with sticky liquid.

They cautiously extended, swaying tentatively in the air, and then—

Plop. They landed on Wu Xi's butt.

Wu Xi: "..."

The Tentacles seemed very satisfied with this position. They nuzzled affectionately, their suckers opening and closing, making a "pop, pop" sound.

"...Hus...band?"

A female voice rang directly in Wu Xi's mind. It wasn't language, but more like a direct projection at the level of the Soul.

"This..." He looked down at the wriggling Tentacles stuck on his butt: "...Is this f*cking right?"

The Tentacles wiggled happily, the suckers gripping even tighter.