-I am Lee Hyun, currently around thirteen years old in this world, but you may call me Weed. Today, I shall present the most luxurious and secure accommodations in the entire eastern region of the Western Desert—a true experience within the Gu World, generously provided by the illustrious and benevolent Black Blood Corpse Sect.
-We offer the utmost comfort on this side of the continent—with bed and latrine—and of course, companionship, so that one shall never be alone," Weed said, referring to the straw he used as bedding, the hole in the ground they used for their bodily needs, and the "companionship," which consisted of the others in the same condition as him. They all lived together, with no separation of sex or race, only by age—primarily humans and Feathermen.
-Daily nutritious meals to strengthen the body—bread and water, when available, of course."
-The latest fashion in the Gu World — tattered rags and a singular earring, which is, in truth, a punishment Gu aligned with the Sound Path.
-Yes, truly a genuine six-star service treatment — in reality, the treatment of slaves.
-And daily exercise sessions to stay in shape — otherwise known as forced labor.
And today was a particularly special day, for the day of awakening was approaching. Naturally, tradition dictated that children undergo awakening only after the age of fifteen, for their own safety. So why were they irresponsibly placing children in danger?-Do not question the noble sect, you PAGAN ATHEIST.
A few strange looks were cast in his direction, though not many, for everyone had grown accustomed to his behavior.
Weed behaved like this at times; it was the method he had found to survive in that place—by drawing attention through acting attention-seeking. If everyone were used to him being a "fool," no one would notice the other oddities about him. Furthermore, he always avoided being a burden to anyone: he worked without complaint, just enough not to be punished, never drawing attention nor standing out.
That was not truly living, and Weed knew it well. To be alive and to live are distinct states of being. Yet, as long as he remained alive, there was potential—and he would await the opportunity. For patience is a virtue.
...
A Featherman named Xhang Xo looked toward his elder brother, Xhang Xu.
-MadWeed is doing those strange things again, elder brother, Xo whispered to Xu.
Xhang Xu glanced at Weed, recognizing the fellow servant.
-Just leave him be. Weed may be a bit of a lunatic, but he has never caused trouble for us. And we do not wish to give the seniors any further excuse to activate the sound-suppressing Gu once more. We do no harm to him, and he does none to us, and…
-Weed is nice, h-he would never do something like that, said Xhang Xi, interrupting Xu. She was the third sibling completing their familial unit, and a habitual meddler in conversations where she was not invited - We could be friends.
Xu pondered her words.
They were Feathermen, born with appearances nearly identical to humans, save for their wings. Yet within their hearts, every Featherman is born with a yearning for freedom—a concept rooted deep in their very souls.
However, the irony of the Gu World is vast. Their entire race had long since been subjugated. Nearly every Featherman lived as a slave. And those who did not? They dwelled in hidden tribes, in disguise, living in fear. The race most innately drawn to freedom could never truly attain it. Was that very yearning for freedom perhaps itself a chain?
"Siblings, I know he is not a bad person. But in this world, we have only each other. I will not take issue if you dislike him, younger brother, for being strange—or if you, younger sister, wish to continue being his friend, which I know… you already speak with him," Xu said, glancing disapprovingly at Xi.
-But be careful. We are merely unranked servants, seen only as slaves in the eyes of humans.
Indeed, as unranked servants, they technically held some potential for awakening. But given the reality of their circumstances, they knew otherwise.
He loved his siblings—his energetic younger brother and his sweet younger sister. Yet his heart, born with a yearning for freedom, whispered a different truth.
They were his blessing—but also additional chains. His duty to them, his love for them, bound him. Duty became shackles, and he himself was a chain upon his siblings, suppressing their freedom in the name of safety.
-NO
Xu's heart murmured. Perhaps it was influenced by the sect's doctrine? Perhaps that feeling was truly his own? His heart whispered, but he chose not to empower the thought.
...
That night, in their room, it was time to sleep. The servant children all slept in a single shared chamber, after an arduous day of labor.
Weed was one such child—restless, unable to sleep properly, mind overwhelmed by thoughts of the approaching day of awakening, which would determine his entire future.
He sat upon his "bed," exhausted from the day's labor. Though in a child's body, his hands were already calloused. His garments were in tatters, and hidden beneath them was a blade—crafted and sharpened by Weed himself from scrap and refuse.
He kept it in case he ever needed to defend himself from other servants—only the servants, for he knew resistance against the higher ranks was futile. Especially with the punishment Gu shaped like a bell earring that could subject him to excruciating pain at the will of his superiors.
It was bound to under his very flesh another gu, rendering him literally incapable of betraying the sect—unless, of course, he wished for his body to be obliterated in a burst of Qi. It was neither a pleasant sight nor an easy mess to clean.
Why did they spend so many resources, using two gus on each of them? he didn't know.
Even the work routine was a little strange, Weed often suspected why, but that's for later.
Life in a demonic sect was far from easy, particularly depending on one's place in the hierarchy.
The hierarchy of the Black Blood Corpse Sect, despite being a demonic organization, was not so different from righteous sects, with a few notable distinctions. The ranks, from the lowest to the highest, were as follows:
Servants / Low Rank:
Slaves: The lowest tier of servants, deemed useless and without potential to become Gu Masters; they bear Gu that suppress all their freedom.
Unranked servants: Typically children either captured or born into servitude. As they are still young, they are technically outside classification, though in practice they are always treated below common servants.
Common servants / Medium rank servant: Slaves who demonstrate some potential to become Gu Masters, though their will and freedom remain suppressed by Gu.
Prestigious servants: Those who, through circumstance, have become valuable to a higher-ranked individual—be it as a spouse, concubine, relative, or someone whom the sect has deemed worthy of recognition.
Weed had once pondered the necessity of such intricate divisions among the servant ranks. But after living among them, he came to understand: the answer lies in human nature.
Human nature—yes, the desire to possess more, to be superior to others, and the fear and desperation of falling. By creating such subdivisions, the risk of rebellion is mitigated, and the servants' energy is redirected inward. In the end, the greatest threat to any servant was another servant of the same status.
All of this was achieved without the higher ranks needing to spend resources to maintain the system—thanks solely to human nature.
From that point onward, the ranking followed the standard of righteous sects.
Disciples / Intermediate Rank:
Outer disciples: Show some potential, though not enough to warrant significant investment, and they lack connections. Some were promoted from the servant ranks.
Inner disciples: Either connected by blood or merit, or possess exceptional talent.
Masters / High Rank:
All individuals of this rank held authority and were among the strongest Gu Masters in the sect.
Elders – second only to the sect leader and supreme elders.
Sect Leader
Supreme Elder – at present, only one exists. This individual is an Immortal Gu Master, said to follow the Blood Path, and apparently also proficient in the Qi Path.
Weed, his body sore from labor, fulfilled duties such as cleaning various sect locations, feeding and tending to enslaved beasts, caring for low-grade herbs, and performing general manual labor—carrying heavy loads, delivering messages, and so forth. The routine varied daily, with new tasks arising as needed.
He always completed his duties without complaint. Never too little to be punished, never too much. As someone who had endured abusive conditions in a previous life, he knew well: under cruel unfair boss, hard work is only rewarded with more work.
Weed reached beneath his garments. Beyond the discarded improvised blade, he retrieved the only other thing he possessed—a "book" of notes. Though few would dignify it with the title of 'book.' It was made of improvised materials: a thin, worn bamboo cover, wrinkled pages that appeared to have been salvaged from trash, all bound by a tied cloth.
If someone were to glance at the "writing," they would see nothing but nonsense—doodles and scribbles. This was intentional. Weed had made it that way on purpose.
Inside, wrapped in cloth, was a lump of charcoal—his pencil. Initially, he had intended to record important plot points from Reverend Insanity, but over time, he began to jot down memories from his previous life as well. His sister—so bright and kind—could have gone to college and become a remarkable woman. His grandmother—brave and resolute—who fought cancer and never gave up… The memories came and went.
-Can I sleep with you, Brother Weed?- came a voice he recognized as Xi's, the Featherman girl who silently approached him that night, as she often did.
An image of his sister surfaced in his mind.
Weed looked at Xi and nodded, quickly stashing his "book" within his garments.
-Of course, so long as your brothers do not mind.
Xhang Xi seemed to harbor some childish affection for him. But with the mind of an adult, Weed could not reciprocate such feelings for a child. Even so, he treated her as something akin to a younger sister.
-T-They have nothing to do with it- Xi replied with a silly expression before lying beside him.
His mind remained restless.
Questions continued to plague him. What if he possessed poor aptitude? At what point in the story was he? Had Fang Yuan's birth—or rebirth—already occurred? Was his family well?
But he knew that none of these thoughts were useful now. He took a deep breath, controlling his emotions.
He needed to focus on the present—and the present was the only thing that truly mattered.
And thus, the darkness of night passed. Sleep came gradually, washing away all thoughts—indifferent to their worth.
Tomorrow would be another day.
Another day—but not just any day.