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My Qi Keeps Resetting

The once lazy and complacent Michael has finally found something worth getting serious for. Gifted in gathering herbs, as long as it doesn't interfere with his midday nap. One fateful night Michael's world is turned upside down as he hurries home from the mountains after a day of picking herbs. His hometown village is engulfed in flames and laid to waste, his family members reduced to charred meat. Chasing revenge, Michael must overcome all obstacles and become an exalted cultivator to avenge his family. The only keepsakes remaining are an old pendant and dilapidated cultivation technique passed down from his ancestor. Michael's biggest problem on his road to revenge isn't lack of talent, nor lack of determination. "What the F***??, is this some kind of cruel joke?" "Where is my Qi???" His Qi keeps resetting. --------------- Taking a break for a little bit DISCLAIMER: This is my first contracted book with webnovel, and I am new to writing. In the beginning MC is a typical teenager, loud, childish, sometimes lazy, not taking things seriously, and sometimes haughty (even when he shouldn't be) etc. This may put some people off. However Michael eventually grows up, just like we all do. He's full of flaws and is not OP! at least in comparison to other novels. If you're looking for character development, I believe you'll find it here. I am also improving as a writer every day, so I apologise if anything is hard to read at the beginning. Thank you for reading and adding this to your collections, please feel free to comment on chapters and place your review. If you have any spare power stones please vote! Thanks, LeeroyCGNA

leeroycgna · Fantasy
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156 Chs
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Imprisoned

In the suffocating depths of the sect's main pagoda, Michael was led through a labyrinth of dimly lit corridors. The air grew heavy with a pungent odor that made him cringe, a nauseating blend of decay and human waste. Each step took him deeper into the heart of darkness, his heart pounding in anticipation of what awaited him.

As they descended, the atmosphere grew colder, chilling Michael to the bone. The walls seemed to close in, pressing against him from all sides. The faint sound of dripping water echoed in the distance, a haunting melody that added to the eerie ambiance of the place.

Finally, they reached their destination—an austere chamber, devoid of any warmth or comfort. The cell, barely large enough to accommodate a single person, loomed before Michael like a cruel and unforgiving cage. Its grim walls seemed to whisper tales of despair and suffering, as if they had absorbed the anguish of countless prisoners who had come before him.