---
He opened his eyes.
The sky was grey. The wind smelled like manure. And a chicken was pecking at his forehead.
"Oi! You dead again?" yelled a voice.
He turned. A farmer stood nearby, hands on hips, looking at him with the same disappointment one reserved for a broken rake.
"I told you, corpse-boy! Stop lying down in my field!"
The boy — no, the man — blinked.
"I... reincarnated?" he whispered.
Name: Unknown
Body Age: 7
Spiritual Roots: None
Aura Quality: Dogwater
Estimated Lifespan: 28 years (if he avoids frogs)
A status panel flashed briefly in his mind before vanishing.
The farmer kicked him lightly. "Go scare the crows. You ain't good for anything else."
---
💩 Years of Misery
Thus began his new life in the Lower Three Realms, in a place called Mudbelly Village, located precisely where the map refused to draw borders.
His name? Nobody remembered. They called him Scarecrow.
Because every morning, he was tied to a pole in a rice field, a straw hat on his head, a stick in each sleeve, and a sign reading "Cultivator-in-training (Do Not Laugh)."
Every evening, if it rained, someone untied him.
Otherwise? He stayed put.
He had:
No parents
No spiritual roots
No cultivation
And no pants (they were stolen by a goat on his tenth birthday)
By age 13, he'd been attacked by:
A frog demon (twice)
A paper spirit
A confused donkey
A broom possessed by his own frustration
And an old lady who mistook him for a bandit (he was wearing black because he'd fallen into soot)
But he endured.
Because in the back of his mind, he remembered — he was once the Immortal Iron-Face!
And he would rise again.
Someday.
Probably.
Maybe.
---
🍜 The Shameful Daily Routine
At dawn, he scavenged leftover steamed buns from the inn's trash. At noon, he trained his "cultivation" by meditating while holding a pig on his shoulders — because weights were too expensive. In the evening, he practiced sword swings with a mop.
Villagers passed him by, shaking their heads.
"That scarecrow boy again."
"He's still pretending to cultivate?"
"Poor lad. Maybe next year he'll grow a root."
Even the local beggars gave him pity.
Only the village idiot, Old Drunk Liu, seemed to respect him.
"You got spirit, boy," Liu slurred one night, handing him half a peach. "Too bad spirit don't buy pants."
---
🎂 Year 19 – Trash Birthday
On his 19th birthday, he stood beside the river, holding a fishing rod made of sticks, with no bait, no line, and no fish in sight.
He sighed.
"System? Cheat? Divine inheritance? You awake yet? Hello? I'm officially tragic enough, right?"
No answer.
The sky remained gray. His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten anything but onion broth for three days.
Then — plop!
A frog demon leapt onto his back, croaked loudly, and farted.
He screamed, slipped, and fell face-first into a muddy ditch.
---
The world paused.
> 💬 [Ding! Sect Master System Online!]
💬 [Welcome, Host. Due to extreme humiliation and emotional damage, you have now qualified.]
He spat out mud.
"...Are you serious?"
> 💬 [Initializing 'Infinite Sect Master Protocol.' Objective: Gather 1,000,000 disciples. Expand sect territory.]
💬 [Warning: All power limited to sect grounds. Outside the sect... Host is weaker than a duck.]
A golden screen hovered before him. On it, glowing words read:
[Sect Members: 0]
[Sect Territory: 0.5 square meters]
[Status: Founder]
[Title Unlocked: Walking Joke]
---
🏯 Building the First Headquarters (Out of Mud)
He sat up, soaked in humiliation and ditch water.
The screen pinged again.
> 💬 [Tip: Establish sect headquarters to activate domain. Materials not required. Imagination sufficient.]
He blinked.
"Imagination? Wait…"
He stood, stretched his hands forward, and whispered, "Let there be… mud palace!"
Nothing.
He tried again.
"Let there be… Scarecrow Sect Headquarters!"
A glow appeared.
Before him, a tiny hut the size of a doghouse rose from the earth — crooked, cracked, and definitely made of mud.
> 💬 [Congratulations! You have founded the Scarecrow Sect!]
💬 [Your current sect domain is now active. Buffs enabled within 0.5m radius.]
"...You've got to be joking."
But he stepped inside anyway.
---
⚡ The Power Test
Outside, a frog demon croaked again.
He grabbed a stick, walked out of the hut.
Then stopped.
A glowing circle was drawn around his hut. It pulsed softly.
He poked the frog — nothing.
He stepped inside the boundary.
> 💬 [Domain Buff Activated: Strength +1000%]
The air changed.
He poked again — the frog exploded into glitter and regret.
His eyes widened.
Then he grinned.
"Hahahaha! I see. I get it now."
> "So long as it's inside my sect… I am a god."
---
🔥 Let the Recruitment Begin!
> 💬 [New Objective: Recruit your first disciple]
💬 [Reward: Expansion of Sect Territory by 5 meters]
He clenched his fist.
"I'll build a sect. No matter how poor, how ridiculous, how cursed…"
"I will rise again."
"And this time, I won't die from goosebumps."
---
→ End of Chapter 1
--to be continued