The Dead Man’s Simulator

Shen Li stepped into his cabin, his mind still reeling from the transformation he had undergone. With his newfound ability, he had shed all excess fat, sculpting his body into something leaner—closer to what others might call "normal." Yet unexpectedly, his height had increased as well. That change did not go unnoticed.

Whispers followed him through the camp. Some stared. Others exchanged puzzled glances.

He dismissed their curiosity with a calm explanation: his martial arts had reached a new breakthrough. It was enough to quiet them—for now.

Inside the caravan—his private space—it was quiet. The interior was modest but functional, more like a modern mobile home than a warrior's quarters. A narrow bed, a small table, and a handful of personal items were neatly arranged for daily use.

Shen Li walked to the window and gazed out at the distant skyline of Wuhan. The city stood still under the fading sun, its silhouette soft against the horizon.

"Even with this power-up," he muttered, "the real problems remain unsolved."

He turned from the window, took a deep breath, and raised his voice.

"Come here."

Moments later, two second-grade martial artists appeared. They moved with swift, disciplined steps, as if they sensed urgency in his call.

Shen Li faced them squarely.

"I want you to head into Wuhan," he said."Find out everything you can about the Yang Stone. What is it? What is it used for? And most importantly—where can I find it?"

The martial artists wore white garments traced with thin golden embroidery—the emblem of Shen Li's faction. Their attire matched the aesthetic of the caravan itself, which reflected the same white-and-gold elegance. It was a visual extension of Shen Li's identity, a growing symbol of unity and power.

The two men bowed in unison.

"We obey the master's orders," they said in perfect harmony, then turned and left.

Once they were gone, Shen Li lingered at the window. His gaze clung to Wuhan, thoughtful and silent. Eventually, he reached up and drew the curtain closed, the golden fabric falling softly into place.

He moved to the center of the caravan and sat cross-legged on the floor.

"I need to understand," he murmured, "what benefits I've truly gained by turning into a zombie."

Closing his eyes, Shen Li turned his focus inward. The changes within his body were subtle, yet profound. Pain no longer registered as it once did. Instead, a low, constant tingling buzzed through his limbs. Beyond that—nothing.

It was both a gift and a curse.

The upside: he could fully utilize his Skincrawler ability without being distracted or slowed by pain.The downside: he had lost the natural warning system of the body. Without pain, he might not notice an injury until it was too late—a risk that could cost him dearly in battle.

Shen Li began to experiment with his body.

With the strange fusion of his zombie physique and living flesh, he quickly discovered a disturbing truth: many of his internal organs were now... optional. His heart still beat, but it was no longer essential for survival.

He focused inward, slowing his pulse deliberately. Then, with a thought, he stilled it entirely.

Silence.

Yet he remained conscious. Alive.

There was no pain. No suffocation. Just a heavy, unnatural stillness in his chest. The only noticeable side effect was a slight sluggishness in movement—his limbs responded a bit slower, his reflexes dulled at the edges.

"So I can shut down the heart," he noted quietly. "But it comes at a cost..."

His fingers flexed, testing the delay in response. It was subtle—but in battle, subtlety could mean death.

"Still, this might be useful in certain situations."

Shen Li found he could now manipulate the position of his internal organs with relative ease.

With focused effort, he shifted the location of his liver slightly to the left—then adjusted the position of his stomach downward. The sensation was eerie, but painless.

Of course, moving his organs into unnatural positions—or disabling their functions entirely—wasn't without consequence. His body quickly reacted to the changes. He experienced nausea, brief muscle spasms, and unstable blood flow. Yet none of it proved fatal. In fact, the symptoms were milder than they should have been.

"It's... manageable," Shen Li murmured, watching his own skin twitch as an organ subtly moved beneath it.

But what surprised him most wasn't the manipulation—it was the recovery.

Even after intentionally damaging one of his organs, Shen Li observed something astonishing: the healing was far faster than before.

His undead physiology was rewriting the rules of what a human body could endure.

"I can't take this too far," he warned himself. "But in the right moment… it could save my life."

Shen Li didn't know much about undead physiology. His transformation had been accidental, instinctual—a side effect of forces he barely understood. He was still learning the rules of what he had become.

But he had heard the rumors.

It was said that true zombies could survive even the most lethal blows—pierced hearts, collapsed lungs, torn throats. Some claimed that even direct trauma to the brain wouldn't kill them. Their bodies simply refused to die.

Shen Li sat in silence, fingers unconsciously brushing over his temple.

"Even if that's true…" he muttered, "I wouldn't dare test it."

He had no desire to gamble his life on legend. Whatever this undead condition was, he was still in transition—somewhere between the living and the dead. There was no guarantee that a blow to his skull wouldn't end him on the spot.

Shen Li opened his eyes, irritation flickering beneath the calm surface of his expression.

"There's no goddamn encyclopedia for weird things," he muttered bitterly.

He leaned back against the wall of the caravan, staring up at the ceiling as if it might give him answers. But it didn't. Of course it didn't.

Everything he was becoming—this strange fusion of living and undead—was uncharted territory. There were no manuals, no scrolls, no masters to consult. Just rumors. Whispers. Half-truths passed between frightened villagers

"I'm flying blind," he said under his breath. "One mistake and I might tear something I can't heal."

....

By the end of the day, the two guards returned to Shen Li's caravan.

Their expressions were serious—tight-lipped, eyes lowered, as if reluctant to report failure. One of them stepped forward and bowed.

"Forgive us, Master. We couldn't find much detailed information. But we did learn a few key things."

They explained what they had gathered: the Yang Stone was considered a cornerstone in matters involving the weird—the strange, the supernatural, the things beyond ordinary understanding. It was never placed casually. Only important, spiritually significant locations were chosen to house one.

While most high-grade martial artists could burn incense to attract or interact with the weird, incense was a one-time-use item—extremely rare and expensive, produced by only a handful of powerful factions. It was not something a common martial artist or mortal could ever dream of obtaining.

The Yang Stone, by contrast, was constantly active. Always radiating. Always anchored. Because of that, it held immense value to ordinary people—especially mortals. In a world where most had no means to approach or interact with the weird, the Yang Stone became their only chance to sense or benefit from it.

But even then, there were strict limitations.

"Normally," the guard continued, "if you're not a first-grade martial artist—or backed by a first-grade faction—you don't even have the right to approach anything weird."

Shen Li waved the guards away with a flick of his hand.

"You've done enough. Go—get some rest."

As the door shut behind them, he leaned back in his seat with a smirk tugging at his lips.

"I'm filthy rich," he muttered to himself. "How important can it really be? I'll just buy the damn thing."

His eyes narrowed, calculating.

"A few more simulations... that's all I need to pinpoint its location."

Without hesitation, Shen Li raised his hand and summoned the interface of the system

The panel shimmered into view before him, symbols floating in the air like molten gold.

He entered the input calmly: 20 years.

A quiet breath escaped his lips as he confirmed the selection.

"Let's see what the future has to offer."

[You realize you cannot enter Wuhan without a Yang Stone. With no other choice, you abandon your plans for the city and decide to settle in a wealthy, though less developed, county. After some research, you determine the best location: Runan County. Once again, your caravan begins to move. Although there's some dissatisfaction among your followers, you pay it no mind.]

[After a week-long journey, you arrive in Runan. You quickly begin building your own faction. With the massive amount of gold coins you brought, you easily draw attention—especially from within your own caravan. The discontent among your employees soon exposes your wealth to the public, which leads to you being targeted and eventually overshadowed by two of the county's great houses.]

[Flush with new power and high spirits, you decide to confront them directly. On the streets, you beat two first-grade martial artists brutally. Through the fight, you finally pinpoint your own strength—you are at the level of a first-grade martial artist, likely mid-tier. More importantly, your strange undead abilities give you an edge: you're confident you can survive even an Initiate-level attack.]

[During the battle, you discover another secret of your body: as long as your vital organs are not completely destroyed, you can regenerate them fully back to their original state.]

[Following your victory over the two martial artists, your fame soars. You seize the opportunity to elevate your faction. Quickly, you rise above all the top and mid-level families in Runan County, amassing staggering wealth. But your rapid ascent triggers fear—and resentment.]

[A coalition is formed against you.]

[You are forced into a battle against six first-grade martial artists. Though you fight with ferocity, you are severely injured in the end. The coalition wins. However, no one dares to deliver the final blow.]

[Your only regret was the location of the battle. If the fight had taken place somewhere more secluded, you might have won—or at the very least, avoided being beaten like a sick dog in front of the entire county.]

[The aftermath was brutal. Your body was in terrible shape. Muscles swollen, several bones fractured, and worse—multiple vital organs had been shattered. But the greatest problem lay in your skeleton. Even with your fused zombie-monster physique, your skeletal injuries didn't heal at the same rapid pace as the rest of your body. Some fractures remained, hidden deep within, nagging like old wounds that refused to close.]

[Still, you recovered faster than any normal human. Your muscles and organs regenerated quickly—even the shattered ones. Using your enhanced muscle control, you were able to manipulate the damaged organs, gather the scattered tissue into one place, and trigger healing.]

[Despite the pain, despite the defeat, you survived]

[The healing process took three full months. During that time, your faction was surpassed by rivals, and you lost more than half of your accumulated savings. But once you finally felt fully restored, you moved with a ferocity the world had not yet seen.]

[Your first target: one of the six martial artists from the coalition—the strongest among them. You arrived at his door without warning, determined to kill him. If you succeeded, the coalition's foundation would crack.]

[To your surprise, the man had not fully recovered from your previous battle. His body still bore the wounds you had inflicted months earlier. This time, victory came easily. You struck him down and swept through his estate without resistance.]

[In the days that followed, you realized something: you had overestimated the strength of the coalition. During the first war, you had assumed they were all in peak condition—but in truth, many of them had been carrying serious, long-term injuries. Wounds that never fully healed.]

[Now, under your relentless pressure, the remaining five top-tier families panicked. They chose to surrender everything they had taken from you—returning the wealth and benefits they had stolen, with interest.]

[You knew you could win the coalition war entirely this time. You had the strength, the momentum, and the opportunity. But you made a calculated decision to hold back—for now. If you crushed them too quickly, it might attract unwanted attention. After all, you were operating in dangerously close proximity to the Wang family.]

[And so, you allowed the last embers of the coalition to survive… temporarily.]

[Meanwhile, thanks to the constant high-grade battles and the brutal tempering of your body, your martial arts understanding deepened. Your unique fusion of physique, undead traits, and medical knowledge led to a breakthrough: a new combat method. You developed a technique that rapidly increased your blood flow and heart rate, pushing all your organs into synchronized overdrive—unlocking explosive speed and reflexes.]

[For a normal martial artist, this technique would shave three to four years off their lifespan. But thanks to your undead body, you suffered no such side effects. With it, you are now confident: you stand at the peak of first-grade martial artists.]

[After your crushing victory, you turned your attention back to your original purpose: locating the Yang Stone.]

[To your astonishment, there was no Yang Stone in all of Runan County. Not even traces. It was a dead end.]

[Unwilling to give up, you changed tactics. You began expanding your trade operations throughout Runan, weaving a vast web of influence that extended into neighboring counties. Your goal was clear: to create a sprawling network of information and power. Somewhere, within those threads, the Yang Stone had to exist. You were certain you would find it—eventually.]

[Over the next three years, you took on another project: the forging of a personal treasure.]

[You hired a blacksmith of exceptional talent—one of the finest from Wuhan, a craftsman even the Wang family turned to when their own internal smiths were lacking. You commissioned him to forge a custom set of golden armor—an artifact-class item, reinforced with special alloys and cultivation materials you personally selected.]

[Your faction's power grew steadily with each passing day. At present, you had two first-grade martial artists under your command, over 500 second-grade martial artists, and more than 7,000 third-grade cultivators. This force was strong enough to conquer an entire county.]

[The once-proud coalition had shrunk, forced into the farthest corners of Runan. Your personal power, paired with your growing army, had increased exponentially.]

[That same year, you received word that several new first-grade martial artists had joined the coalition. But you didn't care. Not yet.]

[In the sixth year, your long-awaited treasure armor was finally complete. You traveled to Wuhan personally standing at the Wuhan city gate to ensure the delivery was not intercepted or sabotaged. You left with the armor secured.]

[By now, your vast trade network had uncovered the locations of a few Yang Stones—but unfortunately, all of them were held by entrenched local tyrants. Taking them by force would mean starting a war with powerful factions. So, you made a decision: you would wait three more years. If you still couldn't obtain one through trade or diplomacy, you would strike the weakest among them.]

[In the seventh year, your scouts reported alarming news. The coalition's strength had swelled again—this time, their ranks included over ten first-grade martial artists. That number was no coincidence. You understood immediately: someone powerful was backing them, someone who wanted you crushed.]

[You resolved to act first. If war was inevitable, you would be the one to declare it. But before that, you needed to prepare for the worst-case scenario. You had to bolster your own force with more first-grade martial artists.]

[You began searching neighboring counties, offering wealth, land, and rare resources. But your offers were rejected. Again and again. You soon realized the truth: first-grade martial artists were not motivated by money. Their concerns lay with the continuation of their lineages, their clans, and their ancestral pride. You could not buy their loyalty.]

[While you were still searching for allies, the coalition struck first. Their assault was swift and ruthless—you were caught off guard. All of Runan County was plunged into civil war.]

[The battles were catastrophic. Tens of thousands perished, many of them martial artists. Chaos spread like wildfire.]

[You personally fought on the front lines, facing countless enemies. But by the end… it was all gone. Your fortune was seized. Every loyal subordinate was dead. The disloyal had already fled.]

[Forced into a corner, you unleashed your supernatural abilities. The battlefield trembled beneath your power. Entire ranks were annihilated. Shock rippled through your enemies. But even that wasn't enough. The coalition's strength overwhelmed you.]

[You barely escaped—with your life, but not your form. You fled not as a man, but as a grotesque, mud-like mass of flesh. Occasionally, flashes of golden pattern shimmered beneath the surface, and the sound of grinding metal echoed from within—your treasure armor had been destroyed, and pieces of it were now embedded inside your mangled body.]

[All your bones had been broken. Even with your supreme medical knowledge and supernatural physique, the damage was beyond repair. Some of your organs were completely obliterated—beyond regeneration.]

[Defeated and unrecognizable, you retreated deep into the mountains to recover. The shame of your fall carved itself into your soul. Beneath the weight of humiliation, you made a vow—swearing to the heavens that you would return and take revenge on every last one of them.]

[You no longer cared about the Yang Stone. Hatred had replaced purpose.]

[Ten years passed.]

[Your body still hadn't fully healed. Your skeleton core—the foundation of all structure—was lost. You used your Skincrawler ability just to move, dragging your mass forward like a shadow of who you once were. Your peak power was a distant memory.]

[But you knew danger was coming. You could feel it in the air. So you decided to run.]

[A few months later, while traveling north, she appeared.]

[A woman stood silently in your path. You recognized her at once. She was not a messenger—she was execution.]

[You said nothing. She said nothing. The fight began instantly.]

[Your instincts had been correct. She was an Initiate-grade martial artist—and she wasn't alone. Others followed.]

[You gave them hell. Despite your wounds, despite your broken body—you fought with everything you had. But in the end, the difference in power… and the weight of old injuries… were too much.]

[Death Event: Soul Detached][You have died.][Your soul drifts from your body…]

[Refusing to pass on quietly, you decide to follow the woman who killed you—determined to uncover the truth behind the one who has hunted you in every simulation.]

[But she was prepared.][Immediately after your death, she burned a special incense—one that lacerates the soul. The pain was unbearable. You were forced to break off pursuit.]

[Now, as a lonely ghost wandering the earth, your only option is to seek out Yin-rich places and attempt to cultivate your soul. If you are lucky enough to find the right material, you may even bind your soul to it.]

[Year 12][You continue cultivating your soul. Progress is painfully slow… but you can feel it: a great transformation is near.]

[Year 18][Still you cultivate. You hover on the edge of breakthrough, yet cannot make the final leap.]

[You are now on the verge of a soul breakthrough—but it is clear: you need either more time… or external support.]

[The 20-year time span has ended.][Simulation Ends]

Please Choose Your Reward:

Retain Body & Cultivation(Return with the same body strength, soul damage, broken bones, and internal injuries—but with all the power of a peak first-grade martial artist and undead resilience.)

Retain Knowledge & Insight(Gain all the understanding you developed through cultivation, medicine, soul transformation, martial techniques, and battle strategy.)

Retain Yin Soul Cultivation (You retain the spiritual transformation progress made as a ghost. Your soul is now on the verge of Yin Soul Transformation, )

Goldshade Armor 

(The remains of your custom-forged armor return with you)