Chapter 2: The Unchanging One

As the only unchanging existence in the midst of the world’s version update, Lu Yan was like a bug in the system—granted the ability to peer into the truth.

He could see the progress of the version update through a line of floating text. When the progress bar was full, it signified the beginning of the next update.

A version update meant infinite possibilities. It was Lu Yan’s greatest trump card—and the foundation of his courage to fight back.

Crossing the cluttered backyard, Lu Yan walked toward the warehouse. Just then, a book lying in front of the warehouse door caught his eye.

It seemed to have been left there, and on its cover were three large characters: Everlasting Spring Technique.

The first realm for any cultivator was the Qi Refining Stage. Though the Everlasting Spring Technique was a common starter manual, it was known to be one of the most stable and neutral cultivation methods—compatible with virtually any technique for future progression.

Most cultivators began with this method to step into the Qi Refining Stage.

If any other store assistant who’d been beaten and scolded daily saw this, they would’ve been ecstatic—rushing to cultivate it so they could become a cultivator and escape from the Talisman Shop.

But Lu Yan merely shook his head with a sigh and stepped right over the manual on the ground.

“The twenty-first time,” he murmured.

This was the twenty-first time in the past three months he’d seen Everlasting Spring Technique.

Every few days, it would appear in a different spot—beneath the counter, on the shelf, in the kitchen, by the warehouse… almost anywhere.

And every time it showed up, the irritable Chu Hao would conveniently be absent from the store. Lu Yan always had ample opportunity to secretly hide the manual or copy it.

But he never did. He acted as though he’d never even seen the technique.

From the warehouse, Lu Yan took a length of rope and made his way to a long-abandoned well in the corner of the courtyard. With the rope, he easily climbed down into the dry well.

Though it looked rundown, the bottom had long since been hollowed out. Soft soil had been turned into solid walls using the Mud-to-Stone spell—it was clearly an underground chamber.

The moment he descended, the putrid stench of blood and decay rushed up to choke him.

Lu Yan pulled a low-grade Illumination Talisman from his robe and tore it open. A spark of spiritual light ignited and cast a small flame, lighting the chamber.

The first thing he saw were piles of bones and bloodstains strewn across the floor.

The skeletal remains looked twisted and grotesque, as if they had suffered extreme terror in their final moments.

Blood formed complex array patterns that shimmered with crimson light. At the center of the formation stood a black banner as long as a human arm, its few engraved patterns depicting a scene akin to hell itself.

This wasn’t Lu Yan’s first time here. Even after multiple visits, he still felt a chill crawl down his spine whenever he laid eyes on that banner.

It felt as though countless vengeful spirits clung to it, wailing in voices only the soul could hear.

Lu Yan didn’t know much about cultivation, but after three months in Bamboo Grove Market, he had learned enough to recognize what he was looking at.

A Demonic Soul Banner!

It was one of the most infamous magic tools among demonic sects. A thousand years ago, during the golden age of the demonic path, Soul Banners had run rampant—demonic cultivators wantonly slaughtering to refine them, suffocating the righteous sects.

But eventually, the heaven-defying act of refining souls attracted divine retribution, and the so-called Sacred Sect of the Demonic Path—the Nine Nether Devil Gate—was annihilated. The demonic path fell into decline.

In their resurgence, the righteous sects forbade Soul Banner techniques, declaring that anyone who used them would be deemed an enemy of the righteous path.

Even core demonic sects dared not openly use Soul Banners anymore—let alone someone like Chu Hao, who was merely at the Fourth Layer of Qi Refining.

After multiple visits, Lu Yan had pieced it together. The bones on the ground? They were the missing assistants of the Talisman Shop over the past several years.

To outsiders, it looked like the irritable Chu Hao had driven off over twenty assistants in just four or five years.

But in truth, those “ordinary” assistants had all been carefully selected mortals with spiritual roots.

Chu Hao deliberately abused them, then left Everlasting Spring Technique out for them to “find,” baiting them into cultivating.

Driven by desperation, they secretly used shop resources to cultivate. Once they reached the First Layer of Qi Refining, Chu Hao would lure them into this well and extract their souls to forge the banner.

Cultivator souls were vastly stronger than ordinary mortals’. Even a beginner was rare and valuable material for demonic artifact refinement.

Normally, the disappearance of so many cultivators would arouse suspicion. But because the assistants were mortals from faraway cities, and because no one else knew they had broken through, everyone assumed they had just run away.

Chu Hao maintained a perfect façade. No one paid attention to the lowly mortal assistants. Over time, the matter was forgotten.

With this strategy, Chu Hao had secretly collected the souls of over twenty cultivators in just a few years.

Naturally, Lu Yan was the next candidate.

Perhaps Chu Hao had underestimated a mortal like him. Or maybe his guard had dropped because the Soul Banner was nearly complete. Either way, his deception was sloppy.

On just the third day in the shop, Lu Yan noticed Chu Hao had “accidentally” left Everlasting Spring Technique where he could find it.

Initially, Lu Yan thought it was a trap and tried to report it. Chu Hao responded with a savage beating.

As he lay in bed nursing his injuries, Lu Yan began secretly observing. Eventually, he noticed Chu Hao frequently sneaking into the courtyard at night, and eerie wails sometimes echoed from the dry well.

When Chu Hao went out one day, Lu Yan explored the well and found the underground chamber, the Soul Banner, and the method to refine it.

Everlasting Spring Technique? It was nothing of the sort—it was a deliberately altered fast-track cultivation method called Self-Sacrificing Spirit Condensation Method. It drained the user’s life force to strengthen their soul, making them ideal for soul extraction.

After years of refinement, the banner was nearly complete.

If Lu Yan had taken the bait and reached the First Layer of Qi Refining, that moment would’ve marked the final step in Chu Hao’s dark ritual.

But even after discovering everything, Lu Yan didn’t report it.

He knew very well—Chu Hao was only a Fourth Layer Qi Refining cultivator. Impressive among mortals, yes, but still bottom-tier among cultivators.

How could he have acquired demonic secrets and a Soul Banner recipe without backing?

There had to be a powerful figure supporting him. Perhaps someone right here in Bamboo Grove Market.

Chu Hao was just the middleman, ensuring his own karmic hands remained clean.

Lu Yan was just an ordinary man. If he foolishly reported all this and got caught in the crossfire between righteous and demonic cultivators, his body might not even be found.

Instead of placing his life in the hands of those above, Lu Yan trusted only himself.

So he acted like he knew nothing. Ignored every trap Chu Hao laid. And quietly recorded his comings and goings.

He discovered that every ten days, Chu Hao would leave the shop—likely to report progress to his superior. That ten-day window was Lu Yan’s chance.

He would take what he needed and leave Bamboo Grove Market once the next version update arrived.

The underground chamber was spartan. Other than the array, the corpses, and the banner, it seemed empty.

Lu Yan pulled out a basic Spirit-Seeking Talisman and tore it. A soft spiritual light spread across the chamber.

These were the lowest-grade talismans, usable even by mortals. They were meant to detect spiritual fluctuations.

The moment it activated, Lu Yan’s eyes locked on a corner where a faint spiritual presence lingered.

He felt around and dislodged a loose stone. Behind it, he found a palm-sized pouch.

It looked to be made from some beast hide, embroidered with golden threads in swirling cloud patterns—elegant and valuable.

After three months in Bamboo Grove Market, Lu Yan immediately recognized it: a Storage Pouch—and not a cheap one either.

“Chu Hao definitely doesn’t qualify to use a pouch this good. Since he hid it down here, it must’ve been stolen or obtained through shady means. Lucky me.”

Lu Yan smirked.

Normally, mortals couldn’t use storage pouches, lacking the spiritual power required. But there were ways to activate them using Spirit Stones. Lu Yan knew a few tricks—it wouldn’t be hard.

Now that he had the goods, he checked the version update progress.

99.9%

Only a sliver left before the next update.

As long as it completed, he could use the chaos of transition to escape this hellhole.

But Lu Yan didn’t rush. He stood silently by the Soul Banner… waiting.

Fifteen minutes later, sounds echoed from the courtyard above. Someone was rummaging around.

A bulky figure suddenly dropped into the well with shocking agility and appeared at the underground chamber’s entrance.

There was no doubt—it was Chu Hao.

“How did you find this place?” Chu Hao’s eyes were vicious, his jowls quivering. All traces of his usual pettiness vanished, replaced by the aura of a mid-stage Qi Refining cultivator—a beast thirsting for blood.

Black mist coiled in the underground chamber.

“I thought you were just another hopeless idiot,” Chu Hao snarled. “Didn’t expect you to find this place. I should’ve reported you to the master and killed you earlier—used someone else for the banner.”

Step by step, he approached, a bloodthirsty smile forming.

“But it’s not too late. I’ll kill you now and find a new sacrifice later!”

The chamber grew heavier with the oppressive might of a cultivator.

But Lu Yan smiled, satisfied.

Standing beside the Soul Banner, he extended his right hand—reaching for the incomplete artifact.

Chu Hao’s pupils shrank. Then he laughed cruelly.

“Fool! The Soul Banner is a demonic artifact! Even Qi Refining cultivators can barely control it. A mortal like you dares touch it? You’ll be torn apart by the vengeful souls!”

Yet Lu Yan’s expression remained calm.

In his eyes, an interface only he could see appeared—the version update had reached 100%.

【Version Update Complete. Please choose a new version:】
Apocalypse Version – After the end, what remains of the world?
Cyberpunk Version – When the megacorps shroud the sky, even sunlight becomes a luxury.
Urban Version – The best of times. The dullest of times.

As his fingers brushed the banner, Lu Yan whispered:

“Update: Urban Version.”

In that instant, the entire world seemed to freeze.

The chamber collapsed. Space expanded severalfold.

Cold fluorescent lights lit every corner. The muddy ground was replaced by concrete flooring. Piles of bones turned into rigid, lifeless corpses.

The demonic formation was now surrounded by hospital beds. In a nearby freezer were freshly harvested organs.

The eerie chamber for crafting demonic tools had transformed—into a bloody factory for organ harvesting.

Not far ahead, Chu Hao now wore a white doctor’s coat, a bloodstained scalpel in hand.

Confusion twisted his face.

Why wasn’t the prey lying on the operating table? Why was he in strange clothes? And where did that black banner come from?

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just give up your organs and die?” Chu Hao muttered darkly, stepping forward.

But Lu Yan just smiled.

He could feel it—Chu Hao’s Qi Refining cultivation had vanished. He was no longer a demonic cultivator, but a back-alley doctor trafficking in human organs.

With the rules changed, no matter how powerful one had been, they were now just part of the crowd.

Lu Yan raised his hand and tore an Illumination Talisman.

Golden light shimmered across his body.

Golden Light Talisman!

Its radiant barrier could repel blades and bullets—a life-saving tool relied on by the rich and powerful. Though it was a low-grade talisman, its value surpassed that of most First-Grade lower-rank talismans.

As Chu Hao stared in stunned disbelief, Lu Yan—wreathed in golden light—drove his fist into the man’s skull.

Three months of fear and misery exploded in that strike.

“Now… it’s my turn!”

(End of Chapter)