Humans Are Slaves to Genes

Humans are slaves to their genes.

The essence of life is nothing more than the continuation of genes. As carriers, most human behaviors—making friends, falling in love, raising children—are driven by genetic imperatives. It is all for one ultimate purpose: to pass on those genes more effectively.

In this world, genes have two ways to continue.

The first is the method common among mortals: reproduction. Through the union of male and female, offspring are produced. In this mode, as long as it ensures the survival of the next generation, individuals are willing to sacrifice their own interests, suffer losses, or even die. This gives rise to qualities like dedication and selflessness—virtues praised by mortal culture.

The second way to continue is the pursuit of cultivators: immortality.

The Immortal Gene has only one purpose: to keep itself from dying.

Under the dominance of this gene, the need to reproduce vanishes. Cultivators will not sacrifice their interests for others. They live only for themselves, competing ruthlessly to extend their own lifespans.

This is pure selfishness. In the mortal world, it is a quality despised, but in the Eight Desolates, it is the fundamental law of existence.

Every mortal who steps onto the path of cultivation has their genetic code transformed into “Immortal Mode.” They no longer act on human emotion, but under the cold control of the Immortal Gene.

Understanding the information flooding his mind, Yuan Xing’s first reaction was to check his own condition.

Fortunately, after recalling some “indescribable” images in his head, he still had a physical reaction. His genes hadn’t changed; he still possessed the desires of a mortal.

Then, he began to understand this world anew.

In the Eight Desolates, people have no need for reproduction, so there is no concept of family or romance. There is no social distinction between male and female; everyone is treated merely as a competitor. In other words, if Yuan Xing made a move on someone, no one would care about the “morality” of it.

But the problem was that everyone was extremely selfish and trusted no one. Attempting to get close to a stranger usually invited immediate wariness and a preemptive strike. Without a valid reason, intimacy was impossible.

Yuan Xing couldn’t help but smile bitterly. He was doomed. In the game before he transmigrated, he had a harem of a hundred members. Now that he was here in person, he seemed destined to be alone.

However, while his emotions were a “problem,” his cultivation was a massive advantage.

Others possessed the Immortal Gene. When they cultivated, a portion of their progress was absorbed as “nutrients” by the gene to sustain their immortality. This created bottlenecks where cultivation would stagnate, requiring Spirit Fruits or miraculous medicines to break through.

Yuan Xing was different.

He had no Immortal Gene. He didn’t need to “stabilize” his code, he didn’t have bottlenecks, and he didn’t need external medicines to progress. He could cultivate infinitely, without limit. Techniques and spiritual artifacts that usually required a certain “Realm” to use were not restricted for him.

However, because his genes never fundamentally changed, in the eyes of others, Yuan Xing’s realm would always appear to be at the Initial-stage of Qi Refining.

In reality, Yuan Xing’s true strength had already reached the Foundation Establishment stage.

This discrepancy didn’t bother him. In fact, he could use this false information to his advantage—like he was doing now. With his Foundation Establishment strength and the Spirit Tracking Talisman, he could have easily seized the Morning and Evening Dew by force.

But he knew how crazy people in this world became for even a shred of benefit. To be cautious, he used his “weakness” to let the others slaughter each other first.

The result didn’t disappoint. The burly man named Lei Lie was the final victor of the tavern brawl.

“I take two fruits, you take one. If you have no objections, let’s move,” Lei Lie said.

In the ruins of the tavern, Lei Lie didn’t even glance at the corpses of his two sworn brothers. His eyes were fixed solely on Yuan Xing with a look of absolute authority.

Yuan Xing didn’t believe for a second that a man who murdered his brothers would share the dew, but he wasn’t worried. He could see Lei Lie’s true strength: Late-stage Qi Refining. Strong for this area, but a joke compared to Yuan Xing.

“Of course,” Yuan Xing smiled, standing up to lead the way.

Once on the street, Yuan Xing asked, “Shall we fly?”

Lei Lie looked around cautiously. The streets were empty; everyone had either died in the tavern or fled. He nodded. “Fine, but once we reach the valley, we must descend.”

Lei Lie was being careful. “Holding a jade brings disaster,” and Yuan Xing was currently that jade. If others saw Lei Lie escorting him, it would cause trouble. Flying was too eye-catching.

Lei Lie waved his hand. His cloak expanded, turning into a flying carpet several yards wide. He hovered in the air and looked down at Yuan Xing. “Do you have a flying tool?”

“I do.” Yuan Xing flicked his finger. A small, one-inch sword flew from his chest, expanding in the wind until it reached three yards in length, emitting a faint golden glow.

“A high-grade artifact?” Lei Lie’s eyes widened. Usually, only those with high realms possessed such treasures.

“Cough… this is the only relic my master left me,” Yuan Xing lied smoothly. “Unfortunately, my strength is so low that I can’t even display a tenth of its power. I can only barely use it as a mount.”

“Oh.” Lei Lie nodded, but the greed in his eyes intensified.

Yuan Xing jumped onto the sword, swaying unsteadily before managing to stand firm. He sat down and gripped the hilt tightly, mimicking the posture of a terrified beginner.

Pretending to be weak is exhausting, Yuan Xing sighed inwardly.

“Let’s go,” Lei Lie called out. His carpet soared into the sky, whistling away.

Yuan Xing’s sword wobbled and bobbed, moving forward at a pace not much faster than a brisk jog. Soon, Lei Lie flew back, shouting, “What are you dawdling for?”

Yuan Xing spread his hands helplessly. “With my meager Qi, this is the fastest I can go.”

“What a waste of a treasure…” Lei Lie muttered. “This is no different from walking.”

“It saves energy,” Yuan Xing countered, his body bouncing comfortably as if he were in a sedan chair. “Why don’t you just carry me on your carpet?”

“I…” Lei Lie’s face stiffened. He stammered, “My artifact is… picky. It doesn’t like strangers.”

Yuan Xing almost laughed. An artifact being “picky” was unheard of. Lei Lie was simply terrified that if Yuan Xing sat beside him, the boy might launch a sneak attack. In this world, no one allowed anyone within striking distance.

“Then we have no choice. We fly like this,” Yuan Xing shrugged.

Lei Lie grew increasingly frustrated as he followed alongside. It was too damn conspicuous. Most cultivators zoomed past in a flash, but Yuan Xing was like a bright golden kite, bobbing up and down, left and right. It was as if he were begging the whole world to notice them.

“Forget it! We’ll walk on the ground,” Lei Lie hissed, diving toward the tree line.

“Fine by me,” Yuan Xing replied.

Lei Lie landed first, immediately scanning the surroundings for an ambush. But while he was focused on the bushes, he neglected the sky.

Because Yuan Xing was “slow,” his descent was gradual. Suddenly, a streak of light—like a shooting star—shot across the horizon. It reached Yuan Xing in an instant, snatched him off his sword, and carried him away into the distance.

By the time Lei Lie reacted and drove his carpet back into the air, all that remained was a trail of melodic, feminine laughter. The “shooting star” was already at the horizon, impossible to catch.