Fake meets the Impostor

But what if he was wrong?

What if the necklace had nothing to do with all this?

A shadow of doubt crossed his face. He made many assumptions to piece together the events. But the overall picture was starting to get convoluted.

"The simplest explanation is usually the correct one," he murmured to himself.

Was one of his assumptions wrong?

Deciding to start fresh, Yang Huo reevaluated his most basic assumption.

Previous assumption: He had been brought to this unknown place using the necklace as a catalyst.

New assumption: The necklace is unrelated to all this.

Question: Then how did that person bring him here?

Yang Huo's gaze darkened with thought. He was stumped. He couldn't immediately think of another method someone could use to abduct him so swiftly and without the Su family noticing.

But then, something clicked. There was a flaw in his thinking. The question itself carried an underlying assumption he hadn't yet challenged.

Taking a deep breath, Yang Huo forced himself to rethink everything.

Previous assumption: He was taken away to some unknown place.

New assumption: …He never left his room.

He scanned his surroundings again. The endless void was still the same—silent, oppressive, and featureless.

Question: If he was still in his room, why did this place feel so real?

A possible answer wasn't immediate, but it emerged as he meticulously dismantled each possibility.

Hypothesis: His body was still in the room, but his mind had been pulled elsewhere.

This explained why his robe was restored—it was never real, merely a manifestation.

But even with this understanding, the method remained elusive. How could that person kidnap him so effortlessly?

Yang Huo pondered further, but failed to piece together anything concrete.

After all, what else could explain this other than requiring some kind of medium like the necklace? If this individual wielded a technique so enigmatic that it required no medium, evading his detection while executing something as invasive as displacing his consciousness, then what couldn't they do?

'Wait...' a new possibility surfaced, sending ripples through his analysis.

What if the medium wasn't an object he possessed, but instead an action he performed?

But what action could that be? All he did was sitting and cultivating...

Cultivating....

Cultivation....

Yang Huo's eyes widened as he surveyed the infinite darkness surrounding him. A realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

He recalled the face of that person—an exact replica of this body's face. Someone who had instantly recognized the body possession. Someone who could effortlessly drag him into this realm.

There was one explanation that fit every criterion. Even the very nature of this strange realm could be explained by it.

It was so perfect, so flawlessly fitting, that it would be a cruel joke if it were wrong.

But if this was true, then this body—no, the original Yang Huo—had to be special.

And considering the System had chosen this body for him, the possibility wasn't far-fetched.

Yang Huo took a step forward, settling his gaze on the endless void before him, searching for a figure.

"Come out," he called, his words slow but firm. "I know you're here."

The void remained silent, still and empty as ever. No response came.

Yang Huo narrowed his eyes but wasn't surprised.

Everywhere he looked, only the same oppressive darkness greeted him. Yet now, it felt as though he could peer through everything.

Everything was clear.

Not only had he never left his room—he never got kidnapped in the first place.

In fact.... this realm was something he could control himself.

Without a word, Yang Huo raised his leg and slammed it down with force. The impact echoed across the void, rippling outward like a stone striking still water. The very fabric of reality trembled as if struck by a powerful force.

Gradually, the darkness began to unravel, peeling away like the remnants of an illusion. The void crumbled, giving way to a new reality.

No... it wasn't new. It was merely reverting back to its original state.

'So this is.... Yang Huo's Heart Sea...'

Before him, an endless expanse of red stretched across the horizon. The sea was unnervingly calm, its surface dark and opaque, absorbing all light. A heavy stillness lingered in the air, thick and suffocating.

Above, a large, pale moon materialized high in the sky, its ghostly light casting a dim glow over the crimson sea. The light wavered as though the sea itself rejected the moon's presence, reflecting nothing back, leaving the waters as dark and still as ever.

It was a sight that could unnerve most, but Yang Huo observed it with brief indifference, his gaze quickly honing in on a particular spot.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the crimson sea, rising slowly like a specter.

"I sense a change within you," the figure said, their voice smooth and measured, a faint smile playing on their lips, though the sharp glint in their eyes betrayed a hidden contempt.

Yang Huo's expression remained impassive, but deep within, unease stirred.

The figure before him bore the exact appearance of the original Yang Huo.

"Inner demon…" Yang Huo murmured, his voice cold, edged with calculation as his gaze narrowed on the figure before him.

An inner demon was intrinsically tied to one's mental state. Though they shared the same physique, He and Yang Huo were entirely different individuals. They shouldn't share the same inner demon.

It should have disappeared alongside the original Yang Huo.