The First Transmigrat

Life was good.

No, really. It was good.

For the first time since I got dumped into this world—after the whole wolf incident, the collapse of that old realm, and ending up here, where the sun seems to shine a bit too enthusiastically—I could say I was genuinely… having fun.

Old Dao and I spent our days lounging, laughing, gossiping like two old hens, and treating the occasional idiot who broke their leg trying to kick a tree in half. That actually happened last week. Some overly enthusiastic martial apprentice tried mimicking some flashy routine from a scroll he barely understood and ended up crippling himself.

Old Dao chuckled as he stitched the kid's knee back together.

"Another warrior of the divine arts, felled by a shrub," he muttered.

I laughed until I choked on my tea.

That was the rhythm of life. Strange, peaceful, with the occasional absurdity.

At one point, I even considered making a printing press.

I mean, why not? I had the knowledge from Earth—could revolutionize literacy, spark an information age, make a fortune.

But then… I got lazy.

Too lazy.

I just didn't feel like committing to anything outside of myself. I had all this potential in my body—so much energy, so many abilities simmering under the surface. Why focus on machines when I hadn't even scratched the surface of my own evolution?

That's when the idea hit me.

Every great thing begins with a small step.

I didn't need a grand cultivation method, some ancient tome, or celestial mentor to push me forward. What I needed was time—and a plan.

So I decided to refine my body.

Systematically. Thoroughly. Obsessively.

From the bones, muscles, tendons, veins, arteries, and nerves, all the way to the smallest cell. I wanted to cleanse it all. Rebuild it. Reforge myself from the inside out.

I'd already surpassed normal humans in strength. That much was obvious. I could bend metal, lift boulders, move with absurd speed, and recover from injuries in hours. But I felt there was more. A deeper potential waiting to be drawn out.

And for that… I needed energy.

I started drawing in the starlight.

The energy of the cosmos—subtle, ancient, untamed.

It wasn't flashy like lightning or fire. It was quiet. Cold. Mysterious. But it responded to me, slipping into my body like silver mist and running through every channel of my being.

I didn't rely on forms. No secret breathing technique. No flashy stances passed down by some half-drunk master.

I just sat there under the sky, in lotus position, absorbing starlight, circulating it through my body, and slowly, very slowly, refining it.

Bit by bit.

I cleansed my bone marrow, letting the cosmic energy purify it until it felt lighter, stronger.I strengthened my muscles—packing them tighter, reinforcing every fiber.I restructured my nervous system, increasing its response speed.Even my organs were sharpened like blades, tuned for endurance and power.

It wasn't cultivation in the traditional sense.

It was evolution.

With my golden eyes, I could see and control energy better than most people could even comprehend. The amount I could draw in… it was borderline absurd. What would explode a normal human's body was just a warm-up for me.

Overpowered?

Yeah. Definitely.

But I didn't let it go to my head.

Well, not too much.

Because all this energy was still useless without control. That's what I focused on next—refining my senses, enhancing my inner awareness, testing myself day by day. I wanted to be able to control every twitch, every heartbeat, every breath down to the cellular level.

Some nights, I experimented with gravity.

A power that had always lurked just beneath the surface of my being—ever since I arrived in this world.

It wasn't something I used.It was something I was becoming.

I practiced creating zones of gravity around me, pulling pebbles into orbit, changing my own weight mid-jump, compressing energy into small spheres and tossing them into the air like dense marbles. Sometimes they fell and cracked the ground. Sometimes they floated like moons. I didn't always know what would happen.

But it was exhilarating.

And through it all, my mind… felt free.

There was no pressure. No enemies breathing down my neck. No ancient curses trying to erase me from existence.

Just me.

Alone with my thoughts and theories.

I tried storing the refined cosmic energy into "pools" within my body—like miniature suns nestled deep in my muscles and bones. I could feel them glowing softly, waiting to be unleashed. It wasn't flashy, but I knew the difference.

My body was no longer just strong.

It was refined. Controlled. Efficient.

Like a blade honed to such a degree that it no longer looked sharp—until it cut through steel without effort.

I even tried to give my methods a name. A path. Something that sounded cool, like "Void Refinement" or "Stellar Flesh Technique."

But nothing stuck.

It was just me, cleaning myself up from the inside out.

One day, I casually mentioned to Old Dao that I might start my own sect.

He stared at me like I had gone mad.

"A sect?" he said. "What would you even teach them?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Good question."

I had no clue. Most people here wouldn't survive a fraction of the energy I dealt with casually. My methods were personal, built for someone like me—someone far beyond human.

So I dropped the idea.

Maybe someday. Maybe never.

I spent that evening sitting alone under the open sky, cross-legged on the library roof, watching the stars swirl above me. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of night blossoms and distant fires.

I could feel my gravitational powers sharpening.

I was able to reduce the weight of my body to near nothing—or crush the ground beneath me with a single step. I could create a pressure field that crushed air into silence or make objects float gently around me like leaves in orbit.

It was beautiful.

It was mine.

This was power—not loud, not chaotic—but refined. Silent. Subtle.Like the stars.

And I was learning to wield it, not with fury, but with calm.

Not to fight, but to exist more completely.

To be me.

So yeah.

Life was good.

And I was just getting started.