Lin Shen had always lived by a single rule: **never take unnecessary risks**.
He double-locked every door, backed up every file in triplicate, and always sat near the emergency exit. Friends laughed, colleagues rolled their eyes—but he didn't care. It wasn't paranoia if danger really *was* everywhere.
And as it turned out, danger could be anywhere—like a pedestrian crossing at 2:00 a.m., deserted except for the black SUV that ignored the red light.
The last thing he remembered was the screech of tires and the sudden, searing pain.
Then, darkness.
---
He woke up to screaming.
His eyes shot open to a sky choked with red clouds and the stench of blood hanging thick in the air. All around him were bodies—some groaning, some already still. Black-robed figures stood in a wide circle, watching with cold indifference as a group of youths writhed on the ground.
He was among them.
"What the...?"
The voice that came from his throat wasn't his. It was younger. Rougher.
Memories that weren't his own surged forward—like knives stabbing into his mind.
> Mo Fan. Age: 17.
> Outer disciple of the Crimson Asura Sect.
> Status: Trash. Weak cultivation. Target of constant bullying.
> Reason for current situation: Failed to bribe the right senior and was chosen for the Blood Baptism ceremony.
Lin Shen—no, **Mo Fan**—gasped as the memories faded. His breathing was shallow, ragged. Pain wracked his body. His new body.
"What kind of cursed place is this…?"
Then, as if answering him, a cold mechanical voice echoed in his mind.
---
> **[Demonic Sect Survival System Activated.]**
> **Welcome, Host. Initiating baseline scan…**
> **Detected Host Mental Signature: Lin Shen**
> **Binding successful.**
> **Current Objective: Survive for 7 days. Reward upon success.**
> **Penalty for failure: Permanent death.**
---
A system.
He'd read enough novels to know what this meant—but unlike those cocky protagonists, Lin Shen didn't feel excited. He felt *wary*.
> "Why me?"
> **[Host's mental profile: Cautious, strategic, survival-oriented. Ideal candidate for high-fatality environment.]**
Well, he couldn't argue with that.
Another spasm of pain hit him. He looked down and realized he was sitting in a pool of fresh blood. Not all of it was his—but enough was.
All around him, other disciples were dying—sacrifices to some cruel ritual masked as a "trial." The ones who survived this test would gain a small cultivation breakthrough and the right to live another day.
The rest?
Feed for the blood altar.
"Stand!" barked a tall elder, his voice like a whip. "The Blood Baptism is complete. Those who can still move, rise. The rest are already corpses."
Mo Fan—no, *Lin Shen*—forced himself to his feet.
His legs were shaking. His mind was spinning. But he stood.
He wasn't ready to die again.
---
The survivors were herded like livestock back to the outer sect dormitories—a row of crumbling stone huts at the edge of a cliff. The Crimson Asura Sect sat on land soaked in the blood of a thousand battles. Everything here screamed death: from the eerie red mist that clung to the forest below to the blood-stained training grounds.
Lin Shen collapsed onto the stone bed in his assigned hovel, his breathing uneven.
The system activated again.
> **[Survival Task Complete: Day 0.]**
> **Progress: 0/7 days survived.**
> **System Note: Sect environment deemed "Hostile." Extreme caution advised.**
> **New Feature Unlocked: Danger Sense (Passive)**
> **Effect: Subtle premonitions of nearby threats. Cooldown: None.**
Lin Shen let out a slow breath. A passive ability? That was good. It meant no flashy powers, no glowing lights to draw attention. Subtle. Efficient.
He liked that.
---
He began sorting through the host's memories. Mo Fan had been weak, yes—but clever in his own right. He had memorized the sect's layout, knew which seniors to avoid, and which places were usually empty.
It wasn't much—but in this place, information was life.
**Rule #1: Never eat food you didn't make yourself.**
**Rule #2: Never show emotion in public. It attracts predators.**
**Rule #3: Never stand out. Never be last. Never be first.**
These would be his new commandments.
---
The next morning, Lin Shen left his hut before dawn. He carried a cracked wooden sword and wore a hood low over his face. Training grounds filled early, and showing up late could be seen as weakness.
He found a corner near the cliffside and began practicing basic sword stances.
Not too slow. Not too fast.
Just enough to blend in.
As the morning mist thickened, a presence approached—one that made the hairs on his neck stand on end.
**Danger Sense triggered.**
He turned slightly, catching a glimpse of a red-robed figure watching him from the shadows.
Senior Disciple Jiang Wei.
The original Mo Fan had once accidentally spilled soup on Jiang's robes. He hadn't forgotten. Lin Shen could feel the man's killing intent—cold and focused.
But he didn't react. He didn't meet the man's eyes. He kept practicing, expression calm.
Eventually, the presence faded.
He exhaled quietly.
**Survived encounter. +1 System Point.**
> **[System Notice: Host's behavior classified as optimal.]**
> **+1 Caution Point earned.**
> **Spend 5 Caution Points to unlock a new passive or tool.**
A currency for surviving?
Now that was something he could work with.
---
That night, Lin Shen skipped dinner. He brewed tea using rainwater and a few dried herbs he'd found on the way back. Not nutritious, but safe.
His neighbors—two other outer disciples—mocked him.
"Too good for sect rations, Mo Fan?"
He smiled politely and nodded. "My stomach's still weak from the baptism."
Let them think he was timid. Let them believe he was weak.
Tomorrow, one of them might die in a sparring match. Maybe both.
He didn't plan to be one of them.
---
Back in his hovel, the system chimed again.
> **[Survival Task Complete: Day 1.]**
> **Progress: 1/7 days survived.**
> **Reward: Basic Concealment Technique (Unranked)**
> **Effect: Slightly reduces spiritual presence. Ideal for avoiding detection.**
Lin Shen closed his eyes and activated the technique.
A warmth spread through his body, and then… stillness.
He barely felt like he was there at all.
A grin touched his lips for the first time.
This was his path forward.
No righteous master. No heaven-defying breakthroughs. No blood-boiling revenge arcs.
Just slow, steady survival.
And maybe, just maybe, one day…
**He'd be the last one left standing