Below the vast skies of the Xuanhuang Domain, countless clans stood tall, with the great sects vying for dominance.

In the Desolate Realm, the Destiny Imperial Clan—Chandler Clan.

“It’s been sixteen years. I wonder how Michael is doing now.”

A strikingly beautiful woman, noble in bearing, sat with a face full of sorrow, murmuring to herself.

A tall, broad-shouldered man beside her reached out to pat her softly on the shoulder. “Alanna, actually…”

Before Alonso could finish, Alanna Larson turned sharply, eyes flaring. “Actually what? Don’t even start with your excuses again.”

“I…”

Alonso tried to explain, but Alanna cut him off, her rage boiling over.

“What? If you hadn’t been useless, would our son and I be separated for sixteen years? Still haven’t seen him, not even once!”

“You’re the mighty head of the Chandler Clan, and yet you couldn’t protect your own son? Tell me, what good are you?”

Her voice cracked at the end, edged with hysteria.

She broke down, sobbing softly.

Alonso pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. His eyes remained calm, but beneath that calm raged a storm—anger restrained… but barely.

The whole thing started sixteen years ago.

From the moment Michael Chandler was born, he triggered a life calamity.

The heavenly tribulation spread across millions of miles, stirring all kinds of forbidden signs.

In this world, such a calamity wasn’t a good omen. They said a child born of calamity would cause disaster if he ever grew strong.

And with the Chandler Clan being tied to the very will of heaven, that made things worse.

It didn’t take long before other factions demanded his death.

Even a beast wouldn’t kill its own cub. How could they?

Alonso stood his ground, calling in favors from every corner just to keep Michael alive.

But the price? Michael had to be banished to the Lower Realm, under surveillance.

The clan could ensure he lived out his days peacefully, but offering him any kind of real support was forbidden.

Memories swirled through his mind before Alonso spoke, voice heavy. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m alive, nothing will happen to Michael.”

“It better be that way,” Alanna said coldly. “If anything happens to him, I’ll never forgive you.”

“It’s fine,” Alonso said, trying to reassure her, patting her once more. “I’ve got people watching him. If something went wrong, I’d know by now.”

Just as the tension was beginning to settle, a panicked voice burst in.

“Clan Master! Something’s happened!”

Alonso’s smile froze on his face. Alanna’s head shot up, eyes bloodshot.

The man who barged in—Jonathan Chandler. He was the one in charge of watching over Michael.

Given his panic, they knew instantly…

Something was very, very wrong.Alonso Chandler patted Alanna Larson’s shoulder and said lowly, “He’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Jonathan Chandler was shaking all over.

That wasn’t comfort in Alonso’s face. That was when things got dangerous.

“Talk. What happened.” Alonso looked up, fury churning in his eyes like a storm of lightning.

“S-Sir… young master… h-his soul tablet cracked…” Jonathan’s voice trembled. He bowed low.

“What did you say?!”

In that instant, Alonso snapped.

Murderous intent erupted like a tidal wave, shaking the very roots of the Chandler Clan. The force of it could’ve flipped the heavens.

That oppressive aura broke free, slamming into every corner of the hall, blowing the place apart into dust.

For a heartbeat, it felt as if billions of stars were on the edge of collapse.

Jonathan dropped to his knees, shivering, not daring to speak.

But his silence said it all.

“Damn the rules! Screw the restrictions!”

“If anyone dares to stop me this time—I'll crush them!”

Alonso roared, eyes burning with killing intent.

Alanna Larson’s soft demeanor vanished.

The flames behind her ignited into a blazing inferno, scorching half the sky black.

In the next breath, she pulled out two command tokens, voice cold and vicious. “Xander. Eleanor. Your brother’s been ambushed.”

“I don’t care where the hell you are—get down there now.”

“Even if you tear the lower realms apart, I’ll take full responsibility! Got that?!”

“Understood!”

“Good!”

Two furious voices responded from the tokens.

“Go! Kill every last one of them!” Alanna snarled, crushing the tokens in her palm.

Meanwhile, Qingshi Town, Guyuan Realm, within the Whitman Clan’s great hall.

A bloodied youth in tattered clothes was tied to a stone frame.

Blood dripped from his limbs, soaking his clothes and pooling on the floor.

The air was thick with the stench of iron, making people sick to their stomachs.

On the high platform, members of the Whitman Clan stared down coldly at the boy.

Moments later, James Whitman stood.

He faced the crowd and barked, “After investigation, the outsider Michael Chandler, driven by jealousy from being rejected by Bonnie Norton of the Great Dao Palace, ambushed her while she cultivated.”

“He violated her. Then killed her. Brutal and inhuman.”

“Our Whitman Clan’s council has ruled—he will be executed by beheading, to uphold our rules!”

The moment his words fell, the crowd erupted with shouts of outrage.

“We’re doomed! A disciple from the Great Dao Palace died here—what if they blame Qingshi Town!”

“Kill him now! He must die!”

“Yeah! If he lives, the whole town dies with him!”"I say just killing him won’t be enough to earn Taiyi Daogong’s forgiveness. We gotta hand him over and let them deal with it themselves."

"Exactly. That’s the only way they’d maybe let this go."

"..."

Amid the angry shouts all around, James Whitman gave a silent nod.

He’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

Now their Whitman Clan had a solid justification.

In the Guyuan Realm, who didn’t fear Taiyi Daogong? That sect was linked to one of the great Upper Realm heritages.

Unless someone from the Upper Realm interfered, few could handle a wrath from Taiyi Daogong.

And this was the perfect chance for the Whitmans. Not just to get close to Taiyi Daogong—maybe even rocket up in status because of it.

Just imagining it got him worked up.

Yeah!

Amidst the noise and chaos, Michael Chandler slowly came to.

What the hell’s going on?

Didn’t I die from getting hit by that car?

Wait… this isn’t my world. I’ve transmigrated.

Suddenly, memories not his own came surging in, like a tidal wave.

Since he could remember, he'd been taken in by a Whitman Clan elder.

That elder had no children and treated him like his own flesh and blood.

But after the elder died during a mission, he was back to being alone.

Still, thanks to his solid talent, he made a good name for himself within the clan.

But the guy he now “inhabited” had fallen for Carly Whitman—hard.

He gave her everything. Held nothing back.

Risked his life wandering into restricted zones to fetch rare spiritual treasures, just so her body could be better tempered.

Even bled himself dry—literally—using the spirit blood unique to the Primordial Slaughter Body to make pills and help her break through limits.

Sacrifices like that... not even her real parents would’ve gone that far.

But eventually, even that wasn’t enough for her.

She met Alger Carter during a trial. The two teamed up in secret… and set him up.

First, they crippled his cultivation. Then, they stole his divine body source. Cleared him of every treasure he owned.

And for the final kick in the teeth, they had him publicly condemned to death by the Whitman Clan.

Goddamn... that’s imperial-level betrayal right there.

This guy was an elite clown.

I’ve seen some crap in my past life, but this? This takes the cake.

Worse still, the fool didn’t even get to taste a sliver of the goods.

Shit… what use is a man like that?

Even now, Michael couldn’t help wanting to slap the guy whose body he now wore.

Still, curses aside, he had to face his reality.

Once things started to click, he exploded in his own head.

Goddamn it!

Others who transmigrate—best-case, born into some ancient family with great bloodlines. Worst-case, at least they get a story arc like ‘thirty years east of the river, thirty years west.’

Me? I drop into a fucking losing game.

Rewriting this ending is like erasing your name from the Book of Life.

So tell me—how the hell do I even play this?!

How the hell am I supposed to survive this mess?!