It turned out that Charles Clark was the product of a deep love between the Holy Lord of the Demon Realm and a woman from the Human Realm, carrying both the ancient bloodline of the Heavenly Demons and that of humans. His biological father was suppressed beneath a high mountain, never to rise again; his mother, a disciple of a prestigious righteous sect, was expelled for consorting with the demons, forced to live in disgrace, wandering in hardship, narrowly escaping countless pursuits, only to die from postpartum hemorrhage and cold and hunger after giving birth to Charles Clark.

She used the last of her strength to set her own child adrift from the lonely birthing boat, hoping he might have a sliver of hope to survive.

Charles Clark used the Heart Demon Sword to unlock the seal on his demonic bloodline, and in the darkness of the abyss, he devoted himself to cultivation, comprehending unparalleled divine powers, and returned to the Cangqiong Mountain Sect.

From this point on, Charles Clark began to walk the path of darkness, advancing with no turning back.

All his former enemies met miserable deaths at his hands, suffering endless torment. With his ever-increasing skill in deception and manipulation, Charles Clark played both sides, feigning compliance while acting in secret, step by step gaining trust, seizing power, and rising to the top. He stirred up a storm of blood and chaos.

As the plot progressed, Charles Clark’s descent into darkness grew ever more severe. He returned to the Demon Realm, inherited the title of Holy Lord, and still unsatisfied, began a bloody purge and massacre of all the major cultivation sects in the Human Realm, eradicating every voice of opposition!

In the end, the legendary immortal and demon Charles Clark unified the vast lands of the three realms; he possessed countless concubines, with endless descendants for generations to come!

“Stupid author, stupid story!”

This was the last thing David Sullivan managed to curse before he died.

To think that a decent young man like him, who paid for VIP access to read the official version, would spend his final moments finishing such a trashy novel that had nothing going for it except cheap thrills—how could he not curse?

"The Arrogant Path of Immortals and Demons," author: Xiang Tian Da Feiji.

Just the ID alone reeked of sleaze. The writing was elementary school level, full of cringe-worthy moments. David Sullivan was embarrassed to even call the author’s chaotic, utterly unstructured world a cultivation setting.

Everyone, in front of the protagonist, seemed to have their intelligence devoured by his turtle-like aura.

Especially Charles Clark’s master, that John Sullivan, who was the king of idiots, the Li Tianyi among scumbags!

His only purpose was to court death, and when he failed at that, to be killed by the protagonist!

So why did David Sullivan keep reading such a book, all the way to the end?

Don’t get it wrong, David Sullivan wasn’t a masochist. The reason, and the most infuriating part for him, was this:

The story was full of foreshadowing, with plot holes everywhere, one mystery after another, layers of fog and confusion. And in the end—not a single one was resolved!

It was like spitting blood into the sky!

Who was the culprit behind those several tragedies? What happened to those girls who made brief, stunning appearances and were promised to join the harem—where did they go? What about all those characters with grand, impressive titles—what were they even for, and why did none of them show up at the end for a look? Brother Xiang Tian, Brother Feiji, bro, can we talk? Please! Fill! The! Holes!

David Sullivan felt like he could come back to life out of sheer anger.

In the endless darkness, a mechanical voice echoed in his ear.

[Activation code: “Stupid author, stupid story.” System auto-triggered.]

“Who are you?” The tone sounded like Google Translate. David Sullivan looked around; he seemed to be floating in some imaginary space, unable to see his own hand in front of his face.

The voice was everywhere: [Welcome to the system. This system, developed with the ‘you can you up’ philosophy, hopes to provide you with the best experience. We sincerely hope that during your experience, you can fulfill your wishes and transform a stupid story into a high-end, classy, top-tier classic according to your desires. Enjoy.]

Dizzy, he heard a man’s voice softly ask by his ear, “…Shidi? Shidi, can you hear me?”

David Sullivan jolted, steadied his mind, forced his heavy eyelids open, and the scene before him spun with a thousand flowers and leaves, finally merging into one after a while, gradually becoming clear.

He was lying on a bed.

Looking up, there was a canopy of white gauze, with delicate sachets hanging from the four corners.

Looking down, he saw himself in white robes, antique in style, with a paper fan leaning against the pillow.

Looking to the left, a handsome man with his hair tied up in black sat by the bedside, gazing at him with concern.

David Sullivan closed his eyes, suddenly reached for the folding fan, snapped it open with a swish, and shook it, fanning away the cold sweat pouring down his face.

Joy flashed in the man’s eyes as he asked gently, “Shidi, you’re finally awake! Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”

David Sullivan replied, “…I’m fine.”

There was a lot to take in, and David Sullivan, still muddleheaded, tried to sit up. The unfamiliar man quickly reached out to support his back, helping him lean against the headboard.

David Sullivan had always been a cautious person. Not knowing the situation yet, he just pretended to have just woken up, dazed, and asked, “Where…am I?”

The man was taken aback and said, “Did you really sleep that deeply? This is your Qingjing Peak.”

David Sullivan was startled inside, but continued to feign dizziness: “Why…have I been asleep for so long?”