Prologue

He Fan Ling was afraid of dying until his twelfth reincarnation. The hardest life he'd ever lived through was his twelfth. It was unforgettable, and that was the reason why his nerves had toughened since then.

What was the reason to fear death when he'd reincarnate to a new life? It was unreasonable to fear it. There was no afterlife, there was only a vicious cycle of living and dying. Death was inevitable.

In his thousand lives, he was well-aware of the gods. He'd glimpsed them once or twice in the midst of transmigrating to a new world, and soul before being knocked out everytime as it was the last stage of transmigration. The gods were old, heaven was beautiful and bright. Creatures of all sorts dwelled, and sometimes, he caught their attention. He wondered how it looked like; many humans died each day, what did they see? What did HE look like? After seeing heaven many times, and being left with no answers to the same constant questions, he learned to ignore them.

Besides, he had no wish to be noticed further and be seen as a defect. If he was, would they realize then that everytime he was reborn, he kept all his memories and skills? He didn't want them to take away the only advantage he had that kept him alive, and sane in his many travels to new worlds and stories.

It wasn't in Fan Ling's nature to be afraid, but he was used to being at the top of his game. He was yet to be knocked to the bottom ever since he got a hang of the system; HIS system.

He'd forgotten, in his fun, that everything has an end.

Now, looking at the ring in his finger, he couldn't help but scoff. Him? A tool? He wasn't naive. The gods had noticed him for his superior skills of surviving well in each lifetime. Apparently, it was a sin to be THAT good and so they sent him to live lives for others who'd died pitifully.

It was their responsibility to handle souls who wanted revenge or their regrets fixed before their next reincarnation. It certainly wasn't his job to deal with it. But now, as he hung like a weightless sack of meat in space, it was his.

He was now a slave, a dog of the gods that they could use to help them with their horrible work flow. How fucking great.

"System, give me an A-Class World." The large, pale diamond ring gave pulses of light and spoke back to him in a male's, deep rich tone.

"I am unable to comply with Master's wishes. Your spiritual points is too low, and Master's level is only at Level One. You must achieve five hundred thousand spiritual points first before being able to take on any higher than F and D class worlds."

At least the gods had cared enough to give him limits, right? But to Fan Ling, it was only an annoyance. He had lived for thousands of years, breached immortality in cultivation worlds, this kind of limitation was like a leash and a collar around his neck.

Fan Ling sneered. They sure wanted him to stay long-term in his new job. He didn't dwell too much about the points and levels.

"Alright, give me a D-Class World." If D-Class was the highest he could go, then he'd take it. DTS was a system they gave him, and it was, thankfully, easy to understand. Higher level worlds gave him higher spiritual points, meaning if he kept on taking the big ones, he could get out of their leash faster.

But, Fan Ling has never been the type to just leave and forget. No, if they leashed him, then he'd leash them too.

The sneer on his face turned to a mischievous smile. Yes, he'd take his time. They want him to be a tool? They look at him like a rabid dog that needs a leash? Fine then, he'd show them.

"Ding! I found one master. The transmigration would be slightly painful, but please bare it for a few minutes as I take you to your next world." The voice was soothing. Again, he can't help but be a bit more thankful to the gods. The voice to DTS was like of a respectful butler.

The thought pleased him, and at the same time, caused him a few concerns. Such a good system, but where was the setback? Limits were not much of a setback, but something must be wrong.

As the system launched up the process of the transmigration, he remembered that the last few times he'd trusted a butler in his past, they had other masters than him. A few failures aka deaths, finally stopped him from believing the ones who'd stayed in the business for far too long and only took in the new ones. The ones that could easily be shaped and molded to the perfect person that would suit his needs.

DTS was a system that was both his prison, and his guide. Prisons weren't there to suit his needs.

He couldn't think further of it as the last stage was reached and he was knocked out.