Jacob slowly opened his eyes amid loud yelling all around him.

He saw the ceiling of his bedroom. It was grey and broken off in many places where water had seeped in. Many band posters peppered the walls. However, an entire wall was reserved for his library. He had everything from comics to classics, from ancient Latin literature to more contemporary texts. Jacob had a thing for reading.

When you are not popular nor athletic, books can be the best refuge.

He tried moving and almost fainted again. A sharp pain had shot through his Meridians and made him spasm.

Being alive is definitely good enough.

It would take a bit for him to recover. However, he knew many places where new medicinal herbs would start sprouting soon. He could easily concoct some poultice or brew to get better and heal faster as soon as he got his hands on those.

Fuck, it will take at least a day before I can even limp around.

He had saved Francis, but soon many other Demonic Beasts would come. At first, they would be few and weak, but the more the change affected the world, the stronger they would get.

Most people died during the first day. After that, however, people started perishing even in the most remote spots because they would hole in their houses and try to hide.

There is no hiding. We need to fight. These people need to start using their Qi and Magic.

Jacob looked at his body and noticed that he was still wearing the clothes he had on during the fight. That meant not too much time had passed since he lost consciousness.

Good.

He shut off the sounds coming from the kitchen for the moment, focusing wholly on his cultivation. He needed his Qi to let him enter the Cockroach realm, at the very least. It would guarantee faster healing, and he would be able to defend himself from some threats.

Even though his physique was weak and he was not even in the Cockroach realm yet, the rich experience from his previous life was still there. He had had battle way bloodier than the one which currently put him out of commission. Therefore, whether it was Qi or Magic, he could wield them like no other person in the world. He also owned the most robust and most coveted Cultivation Techniques in the world.

He started chanting in a low hum, careful to avoid letting the others know he was awake.

Cultivation Techniques had two aspects, the Qi-related one and the Magic-related one. Humanity took decades to formalize actual Techniques and pass them down. Many were variations of Techniques humanity had found in mysterious ruins around the globe. However, some one-in-a-billion geniuses had developed some of the most potent ones.

Some Cultivation Techniques would focus on Qi, some on Magic. Few and far between focused on both.

Jacob smirked because it was the case of his Time Domination Cultivation Technique. It was exceedingly complicated to practice and required more time than any other Technique; however, those who practiced this one would be able to punch way above their weight.

Jacob had been still in the 9th realm when fighting the Golden Dragons, who were at the 10th. The Black Dragon had been at the Apex of the 10th realm, the Dragon Realm.

Unfortunately, the last level of his current cultivation technique had been too difficult even for him. He had tried over and over again, but he never managed to cross the last threshold before Immortality.

He would need to cultivate his Qi first. Then, he would need to slowly grow his body into the lethal weapon that it had become in his precedent life.

While guiding his Qi through his Meridians, he could already feel one foot in the Cockroach realm.

People who had a talent among the 6th and 7th level would just need to discover their own Qi to enter that realm. On the other hand, people with an 8th level or 9th level of talent would instantly find themselves at the threshold of the first stage of the Cockroach realm: that was the 3rd level of the realm.

Seconds before Jacob could take his last step and cross the entrance, he felt his door swing violently.

Adults started pouring in, and he slowly opened his eyes.

“What the hell? You can’t barge in his room like that!” he heard his auntie shout.

He slowly and painfully managed to get his back against the headboard.

He could instantly see that the looks on those adults' faces were not full of worry nor pity. Instead, their accusatory gazes were scanning him up and down to find some cues.

Something is wrong.

Everything clicked immediately as soon as he saw a shy Francis jittering just behind another adult. His friend was still shaking, and he looked guilty and terrified.

Well, that settles it.

Francis has tattled.

What the hell am I going to say right now? My body is barely functional, and these people are looking at me like a tiger eyes a lonely boar.

“Young man, care to explain what is going on?”

The principal of the Horatius High School came forward with a dark look on his face.

You cowardly son of a bitch.

Jacob felt his temper flare-up. Luis Albert, the principal, had died while selling out the inhabitants of St. Peter to some monsters.

His cowardly son was none other than the ski champion and golden boy, Frederick.

Think of the devil, huh.

Frederick just made his way through the small crowd and stopped close to his father; the latter nodded to him and proudly put a hand over his shoulder.

“What is happening, Jacob. You can talk to me, we are pals.”

I swear I’m going to puke if this guy says another word.

Frederick tried putting on a soothing tone to act compassionately in front of the other adults. Everyone instantly had praise in their eyes at the young champion's manners.

They couldn’t fool Jacob, though. He had lived far too long and roamed each and every continent. An arrogant child was nothing in his eyes.

“Uh?”

Jacob played dumb.

“Francis said you dragged him into fighting off wolves. We found the corpses, and the butcher and a couple of hunters said there were no clear marks on the body of the biggest wolf. How did you do it?”

Jacob looked at Francis with the most convincing expression of confusion.

“We were attacked, and a guy came to our rescue. Unfortunately, Francis got knocked out during the first second, and a wolf tackled me before the guy could take me to safety. I don’t understand…”

His voice sounded pitiable, and, coupled with his short stature, everyone instantly looked at Francis, questioning how true was what his friend had told them.

“You already knew what was happening! Where did those monsters come from?! Is this some political conspiracy? Are we going to all die?”

Jacob had underestimated the mass hysteria and how impressionable people could be. He had thought that he was dealing with his old friend, Francis. In hindsight, he had been quite naïve: this was not Francis. This was just a kid who had yet to fight for his life and learn some hard lessons.

Jacob suddenly felt very alone among those people who were expecting some explanations from him. Then, for the first time, it hit him. He was just a stranger to these people. He surely had memories of them; but that was it. They were only memories. He did not really know any one of them.

The principal got one branch of the Steelbark Bloody Tree and shoved it in front of Jacob.

“Care to explain this, then?”

“Jacob brought me in front of a tree I had never seen before,” shouted a now crying Francis from the other side of the room.