The Day of Transmigration — Reverend Insanity

You transmigrated into Reverend Insanity on a rainy day, falling asleep mid-read—precisely when Fang Yuan was in Shang City, the domain of Shang Yan Fei, a Rank 5 peak-stage Gu Master.

(Shang City — Outer Market District, before the battle for the Merchant Guild quotas)

Shang City thrived on chaos. Vendors shouted prices, Gu Masters bargained over materials, caravans groaned beneath their loads. Incense, spices, and beast leather mixed into a dense, restless air. Amid the endless flow of people existed an anomaly—an outsider to this city, and to this world.

You originated from another Earth—the one that had created Fang Yuan. He too was reincarnated, but the distinction was absolute: he was fiction given flesh, while you were not. You arrived without preparation—no system, no guidance, no promised return.

Only a Gu worm.

Your vital Gu was Spectator Gu. A screen manifested before you, displaying no missions, no objectives, no explanation—only a message:

Have fun. This Gu is uniquely modified for you. Its existence cannot be taken, destroyed, or removed. It will not be publicly known—yet it may still be discovered.

Nothing more.

Confusion followed. Then fear.

This was the Shang City arc. Where both Fang Yuan and Bai ning bing had already reached Rank 4 upper stage realm. Bai Ning Bing remained at his side—transformed by Yin Gu, controlled through Yang Gu. They were both named as the twin demons. Shang Xin Ci had already been revealed as Shang Yan Fei’s lost daughter, one among the twelve Masters—each a son or daughter of Shang Yan Fei, positioned as successors and pawns within the clan’s internal struggle. Opportunity and danger intertwined here, where fate thickened and conspiracies overlapped.

Avoiding Fang Yuan was not an option.

On the street—

Fang Yuan appeared exactly where inevitability demanded.

Grey robes. Neutral posture. An unremarkable presence. To the ignorant eye, a mere Rank 2 drifter.

Yet his gaze moved like a blade. Dead, ancient eyes scanned Gu husks and desiccated insects, pausing for less than a breath—enough to measure worth, cost, and future leverage.

A pulse echoed.

Fang Yuan turned.

Indifference sharpened into alertness. Something had disrupted causality.

For a fleeting instant, his expression faltered—not fear, but recognition.

Contact.

A surge of soul force rippled through the crowd. Chaos followed.

Fang Yuan seized a wrist, his tone soft, intent lethal.

“…You. Who are you?”

Then the formation activated.

Crude. Incomplete. Built from scavenged resources and an unfamiliar force. Symbols ignited beneath his feet, glowing like molten script. The ground trembled.

“A spatial rupture?” “No… an imitation.”

He attempted to leave.

The formation did not restrain flesh.

It restrained movement itself.

For one second, Fang Yuan experienced delay.

That second was decisive.

Spectator Gu burst forth, driving into his body. Stone shattered. Space collapsed inward. The formation imploded, consuming both figures in a vortex of distorted light.

Hours later—

Fang Yuan awakened within a dim subterranean cavern. The pocket-space dulled perception, disrupted Gu activity, and suppressed sensory clarity.

He tested his strength.

Even restrained, even displaced—

His composure remained absolute.

“Impressive,” he said calmly. “Not native work. Not amateur work. You… what exactly are you?”

Spectator Gu exited his body and returned to its master, humming softly. Fang Yuan observed it with precise attention, head tilted slightly, gaze dissecting every inconsistency.

“No one in this world should possess this,” he said. “Which means—”

Chains shifted as he leaned forward.

“You deliberately targeted me. Fate forced our collision. Now…”

A smile formed—cold, lucid, predatory.

“State your objective. Are you a Gu Immortal?”