Ancient Being Predecessor of the Primordial Era: An OP Mc LitRpg - Cultivation - Development, page 44
Ancient Being Predecessor of the Primordial Era
Z. Robert Nights (Zer0n1gh7s)
Dedication –
First and foremost, all Praise to God for his blessings. I’ve been through much, but have been blessed to come out relatively unscathed when it seemed impossible.
After God comes my gratitude to my family and loved ones! Without your support I would not have been able to write and finish this book!
Secondarily, are all my fans that have been patient with me throughout the years. Many of whom have dated back years now. Thank you for you trust and support.
Lastly, I wish to all the community members that continued to push me to get better even if they didn’t know. Mental rivalries to push my writing speed, output, getting better, and more. Immersive Ink, the Order, and RoyalRoad.
Simply to many people to name out right. So, I will save you all the endless paragraphs of names and kept it all vague.
Sincerely,
Mr. Author
Z. Robert Nights
(Zer0n1gh7s)
Blurb –
Being mistaken for an Ancient Predecessor usually resulted in heavenly benefits. Not for James Anderson.
After being thrown into an isolated training realm, he was quick to figure out that there was no tutorial. No guidance. No ancient being to fully unlock his system. For eons he remained stuck by himself. Only system notifications and rewards appearing out of thin air kept him from going insane.
But even that eventually stopped working.
Standing at the precipice of the Isolated Realm. He closed his eyes and jumped.
A tear in reality opened under his feet, unbeknownst to him. Dumping him into a cultivation world gone awry. Demons and evil cultivators now dominate the world. Righteous sects and clans hole up in caves and array defended mountain peaks.
Why they hide? Well, let's just say James had something to do with it.
Follow James Anderson, or is it Yin Hu, as he is dragged into petty squabbles and the lives of the last remaining Hu Family members; Hu Shui and Hu Jun.
Will he achieve his ultimate dream? Would there finally be his dream lady to pamper him after eons of struggling? Or maybe he should begin a harem chasing adventure?
Follow James (Yin Hu) as he navigates the world with the belief he isn't that strong.
Copyright © Z. Robert Nights (Zer0n1gh7s) 2025
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the Owner (Z. Robert Nights – Zer0n1gh7s), except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact the owner at zer0n1gh7s@gmail.com
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictions. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Book Cover by GiaPhoc.
Typography by Inorai
Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1 | Green Light - Red Light!
Chapter 2 | Tutorial...? Please?
Chapter 3 | Time Flying
Chapter 4 | Luke?! Daddy is here!
Chapter 5 | Old People Quotes
Chapter 6 - Zhong Flames
Chapter 7 | Koi Fish?!
Chapter 8 | A Real Person?!
Chapter 9 | Hidden Tigers!
Chapter 10 | Tricking Kids! Baby Candy!
Chapter 11 | A Real Cultivator?!
Chapter 12 - The Gang Boss
Chapter 13 - Maybe there is Potential!
Chapter 14 - Raw Emotions
Chapter 15 - Sludge and Mud
Chapter 16 - Heavenly Rice
Chapter 17 - Pyramid Schemes
Chapter 18 - Spider Cult Valley
Chapter 19 - Cultivation Manuals
Chapter 20 - Sage Tears
Chapter 21 - Jun's crushed heart
Chapter 22 - Trauma and Demons
Chapter 23 - Shui and the Scary Jun
Chapter 24 - New Concoctions
Chapter 25 - Read the Fine Print!
Chapter 26 - Bosom of Doom!
Chapter 27 - Racing Games
Chapter 28 - Head Slamming and Water Grabbing
Chapter 29 - Black Widows
Chapter 30 - Hoodies and Cryptic Words
Chapter 31 - Jade in the Wrong
Chapter 32 - Darkness around Shui
Chapter 33 - Disappointing
Chapter 34 - Falling Rain
Chapter 35 - Slimy Filth that is Bald too
Chapter 36 - Ultimate Badassery!
Chapter 37 - Jab and Cross Combo
Chapter 38 - Jun's Blade?
Chapter 39 - WorldBane Spirit Blade
Chapter 40 - Shao Yating
Chapter 41 - Koi Fish Stew! or Burger?
Chapter 42 - Bugs and Worms
Chapter 43 - Big Hammers
Chapter 44 - Koi fish are smart?!
Chapter 45 - Shui's and new friends galore
Chapter 46 - Demonic Trees?
Chapter 47 - Disciples, Fat and Skinny
Chapter 48 - Child in the Mud
Chapter 49 - Smelling Bs from a mile away
Chapter 50 - Paling YagWan and Embarrassment
Chapter 51 - Mentally Broken and Unresponsive
Chapter 52 - Mental and Trade Route Inadequacies
Chapter 53 - Dong ZhenKang and his Plots
Chapter 54 - Still Ocean Calm
Chapter 55 - Giant Figure
Chapter 56 - Gates and Palaces
Chapter 57 - Demonic Trees
Chapter 58 - Dark Gate Palace Elder
Chapter 59 - Mapping and Hidden Talents?
Chapter 60 - A Final Decision
Chapter 61 - Escape Plans
Chapter 62 - Three weeks?!
Chapter 63 - Missing Peoples
Chapter 64 - Death, Ancient Death
Chapter 65 - Sweets and Treats
Chapter 66 - The Calamity has Arrived
Chapter 67 - Jun's Life and Death
Chapter 68 - Bluffing or Reality?
Chapter 69 - Great Spirit Queen
Chapter 70 - Judgement and Punishments
Chapter 71 - The Tramp?
Chapter 72 - Nukes Potentially?
Chapter 73 - Heart, Anger, and Blood
Chapter 74 - Buxom Spirits?!
Chapter 75 - Heavenly Demons
Chapter 76 - Moment of Recovery
Chapter 77 - The Bleak Forests
Chapter 78 - Practice?
Chapter 79 - Snake Face
Chapter 80 - System Spamming
Chapter 81 - Weapon Testing...?
Chapter 82 - Invitation and Calamity
Chapter 83 - Unexpected Situations
Chapter 84 - Unexpected Effects and Strangers
Chapter 85 - A New Stage and Role
Epilogue - Chapter 85.5 - Mutations?!
Thank You –
Chapter 1 | Green Light - Red Light!
He juked left. Lunged right. James could hardly breathe, his lungs burned. He was running out of time. Out of options. Only one choice remained. He couldn’t help but curse his horrible luck. Another day, another moment to fuck up and make a terrible decision.
James slid to a stop. Staring down at the obstacles arrayed before him. This was a task he knew his body could ill afford after exhausting his energy reserves just to make it here, but his entire existence relied on this here moment. Years of familiarity, borne of trekking this path a thousand times already, should have given him sufficient confidence.
And yet…
He slapped his face. Slapped his thighs. The person next to him made sure to give him extra space while giving odd looks.
There was no choice but to cross the main street during rush hour! On a green light!
James took off with the athletic ability of a regular dude. One that had not worked out or done anything sporting since high school. Jelly legs slammed into the ground. Noodle arms pumped like pistons in a racecar. Fueled by the endless power of a similarly endless stream of coffee.
This was what peak masculinity looked like! Yes, he was going to crash soon enough, but for the time being, he was a Titan!
None dared to match his daring pursuit. Women screamed! Men dove to grab his wily frame; jealousy! They could not stop him. His skinny body had finally come in handy as he slipped past their urgent reaching grasp and curling fingers.
Babies cried!
He would make it to work on time! No one was going to stop his holy pursuit! No demon and no mortal either! Not any of these speeding cars! Not the green light! Not the screaming and surging crowds behind him roaring as though they were in a colosseum.
Not even the old granny that caused this whole situation. Especially her.
James knew, with his very soul, that the old hag understood what she had been doing every single morning. Eyes glimmering with evil glee. Delaying him with endless idle talk and pressing him to meet any of her twelve granddaughters.
She knew he could get fired! Conspiring to force him into a relationship!
He got skinny, lunging past a whizzing car. Horns blaring, drivers screaming obscenities, swerving wildly lest they crumple before him! Another vehicle attempted to take his head, but he stopped on a dime worthy of a star NFL running back.
Barry Sanders would have been proud.
James gave the road a double move. Faked right and went left. He pushed his non-existent muscles to the extreme. Beyond anything they had attempted before this day. A terrified motorbike rider was sent careening to the side. He would be alright!
The danger was real. Exhilarating. His only job demanded his presence!
Or he would get fired for being late for the millionth time. It definitely wouldn’t be because of his cursed fingers. Appliances at the grocery store he worked at seemed to go kaput at him barely touching them. The first few times had been excusable. No one could pinpoint him, only wondering what happened. There had been whispered and judgmental glares after the fifth time. Sneaking suspicion as the owner watched him like a hawk.
James shook his head. There was no time to think! He must let his primal instinct take over and lead him to the promised land. He could already taste his victory! The other side of the massive twelve lane Main Street called out his name. A choir of angels singing his name! His fans jumping up and down arms locked completing the wave.
Shit!
His momentary lapse of concentration had been costly. A black semi, engine pipes screaming with black smog, barreled towards him. Its raging, demonic engine and defining horn covered the entire horizon. A challenger and worthy foe!
Not worthy enough!
James dove. Olympians could only watch on in envy and admiration as he escaped guaranteed death…
And fell down a manhole. What the hell?! Why was there a wide open manhole in the middle of a busy street? During the rush hour?! The last thing he remembered was the retch-inducing stench and the hard concrete that met his face-first dive.
* * *
James felt a cold breeze invade his inner sanctum. Brushing against his supple skin. He shivered and reached for his blanket. Him kicking away his source of heat was a recurring issue. Forgetting his window open was another one.
It had led to many days of colds and worse: the Flu.
His fingers wrapped around a rough rag. Pulling it up to cover his head, too lazy to get out of bed and shut the window, but it left his feet exposed. That was a crime. Adjusting and readjusting did not help his situation. Worse, he figured out that his most beloved blanket—thick and long enough to wrap around him like a cocoon—was not only suddenly short, but also not so beloved on his skin.
Its rough texture grated against his supple modern skin. Not a single moment of hard labor meant no calluses. Surviving off instant meals led to his generous skinny suppleness. He wasn’t too proud of it all, but he convinced himself that women would look on in envy. So white, unmarked, and perfectly soft!
James sighed. Unable to sleep. He hoped the old granny next door hadn’t kicked his window open to sneak in again. She always looked at his soft fingers and perfect skin with an unmistakable frown of disgust and hate.
‘Men are meant to be tough! Who’s going to protect my granddaughters if you’re so weak!?’
The thought of the madwoman had him fuming. Remembering how she snuck in dumbbells, he struggled to move made him violently sit up. He surged up, jumping to his feet to rush out of his—
He froze midstep. All the energy in his body slowly escaped him. James let his leg down and stood comfortably before looking around. He let a whisper of a chuckle, butterflies running rampant in his stomach. The more he looked around the dilapidated hut around him, the worse the feeling became.
Sweat beads trickled down his back and forehead. One snuck into his eye, burning him.
He had read a long article on kidnappers yesterday. They would grab unsuspecting victims into vans, beat them up, and then take them to remote huts in the countryside. Cut them up into pieces and sell their organs for cash on the black market.
The singular common theme among them all: A broken down hut.
James rushed to grab the first items he could find as weapons. A bowl and a massive spoon. Both made out of wood. They could have fit perfectly in an ancient museum. Only God would know how a serial killer and kidnapper would get such prehistoric things.
He tiptoed towards the only source of light with ginger steps. Bright sunlight leaked from all sides of the flimsy door. Blinding him.
Every step caused a thunderstorm worthy number of creaks and squeaks. He might as well be a herd of bison. Any serial killer behind that door would have noticed the day before yesterday. James might as well announce to the world he had finally woken up.
James Anderson resolved himself to a life-and-death battle. There was no way he would allow some sicko to violate his…
He shivered.
Death before dishonor! Death before dishonor!
He kept repeating it as his mantra. Resolving himself to mortal combat. He nudged the door open with the large spoon. Its long handle gave him extra space to sneak glances and hide behind the thin walls of the hut.
The door squealed like a pig being slaughtered. An alarm screaming even louder than his thunderstorm of steps.
I am so fucking fucked.
James was out here with nothing but a spoon and bowl. Ancient pieces of wood that would likely crumble after the first encounter. While his kidnappers and adversaries in a life-and-death battle probably had machetes and maybe even guns.
He let out a shuddering breath, then slowly peeked out from behind the open door. James dropped his impromptu weapons and gaped like an idiot for a few seconds.
Shit!
He scrambled to pick them up. The kidnapping beast was probably around here somewhere.
Then again…
Where the hell was he? He could vividly remember falling down an open manhole into a sewer, but that had been a bad nightmare, right? Right?!
James stepped over the door sill. His bare feet and toes stepped onto cool vibrant grass, morning dew still there. He surveyed his surroundings, noticing an unused campfire to his right and a stack of firewood not too far away from it. They were tied into perfect bundles and balanced vertically for some unusual reason.
He made a mental note to move them further away from the campfire if he was stuck here. They were far too close.
To his left was a large expanse of grass and a single tree just sitting in the middle of it all. Said tree towered over the entire area, its canopy casting a gargantuan shadow around it. So dense and thick, not enough sunlight filtered in, leaving the immediate area around it bare of anything other than roots and loose dirt.
In front of the house, about thirty paces away, was a small river. James walked up to it. The moving water so clear he could see the very bottom, covered in river stones. He could cross it with a running jump or even stride across it. The currents were slow and peaceful.
James looked left and right. The river kept going into the distance. Disappearing at the edge of what seemed like a plateau.
He could not recall any in the direct vicinity of the city. How long was he knocked out for his kidnapper to drag him this far away from civilization? James followed the river until he reached the plateau’s edge. He peered over, hoping to catch a glimpse of something he was familiar with—
What the fuck…?
James looked up. He let his eyes slowly fall down until he was looking straight down from the edge. It was clear skies all the way through. He could see the bottom of a flying island, roots sticking out from the side. Then it was just an endless blue sky below it.
He could see tufts of thick clouds far underneath, but that shouldn’t have been possible. Unless…
Did that mean he was past the first layer of the atmosphere?! Looking back up only made him more confused. The clear blue skies above him with similar thick white clouds floating along. Not an ounce of stars or possible outer space void. Shouldn’t he be able to see the moon or the blackness of space this far up?
James wobbled. He fell back onto his butt. The world spun around him. Vertigo. He let out a nervous laugh.
Did I just get isekai-ed?
Chapter 2 | Tutorial...? Please?
James searched the entire flying island and could confidently say—and with quite a bit of relief—that there were no serial killers looking to violate his masculinity. No body parts, black market, choppers. And no vans, black garbage bags, or whatever else someone needed to accomplish that goal.
