Home Is A Squatter Camp.

Humans are known for their quick adaptive abilities; thanks to this, they can live in any region of the world, from hot deserts to cold poles.

Mickey didn't bother asking questions like "Why am I here?" or "How is the world going to change now that I have to survive from being murdered by the protagonist's grandfather?"

He took a train to go home, but since he lived in the slums, he had to walk from the subway to his place.

On the way, he saw familiar sights: prostitutes on the side of the road wearing provocative clothes that almost made his thoughts lose control, especially those trying to call him over. Vendors were on the sidewalks selling junk food, fruits, and vegetables. Beggars were at box-junctions asking for money from anyone passing by in a vehicle. There were also men patching potholes with a cardboard poster that read, "Please Help!"

Mickey's home country was also like this, and with how much people complained about the lack of employment, it felt like the time he was 17 back on Earth.

"I can't believe the people in the southern region are so lively. Maybe those beasts should have come here instead." Mickey's gaze shone with a cold light as he entered the southern peripheries of the city.

He was heading into the forest that spread throughout the city, where profound beasts resided.

"I wasn't strong in my past life, but this body is…" Mickey felt tired. It was cloudy, yet he was sweating profusely.

That being said, he didn't mind much until he was assaulted by a rotten stench the moment he reached his destination. "Argh, I am not a neat freak, but I think a sewer pipe burst somewhere nearby."

He used his blazer to cover his nose, but realizing he would be living here, he stopped.

His eyes were filled with disdain as he examined the environment he would be staying in; the source of the bad smell was a pile of junk where flies seemed to shelter. A group of men and women were picking up plastic bottles, planning to sell them to a recycling company for a few coins. The ground was covered in red soil, with streams of water running here and there. Some children were even bathing in them. The houses were poorly constructed, most made of cardboard and plastic, built around the giant pile of junk. The people had no shame, displaying their hole-ridden underwear on public washing lines.

This was the Southern Squatter Camp!

The moment the squatters saw Mickey, their cold gazes landed on him, like hungry dogs eyeing a chunk of meat.

Mickey tried to ignore them, but he found himself in a pool of blood that threatened to suffocate him.

He was sinking.

A voice echoed in his mind, "KILL!!!"

The original owner's wrath was immediately transferred to him.

Although his mouth was filled with blood, he managed to speak, "I know how you feel."

The original owner had been taken advantage of by these hobos, and he could only watch as they slapped him. Mickey understood what it felt like to be suppressed without the ability to retaliate.

His eyes widened, and all the blood around him was sucked in until his sclera turned crimson red.

The vision ended.

The people outside had no idea what was going on in his mind and turned their gazes away from him.

Mickey's lips curled into a smile as he walked to his residence. This smile meant a lot, and one couldn't tell if he was happy or furious.

His steps halted at the house that was far from the others and close to the forest. It stood above two meters and was shaped like a cube. The roof was a thin metal sheet, and it was built with clay bricks.

This was the product of Mickey's own sweat and blood. It was also the place where Mickey's mother was found hanging.

Mickey commented with an indifferent look as he entered the house, "How plain…"

The room was a definition of all-in-one. There was a mattress with only one blanket, a few pairs of clothes serving as a pillow, and the other pair had been stolen while he was at school. There was a gas stove, a fridge, and a solar panel near the window, with its cables connected to a palm-sized battery.

Mickey disconnected the cable and connected his tablet's charger to it. This was the only place in the world with internet, and he had to search for information on his tablet before heading out into the outside world.

He felt reluctant to open the fridge, knowing that most of the food he had left there had been taken by the squatters.

"I wonder what method is best to deal with them?"

He sat cross-legged on his bed with closed eyes, trying to gather formless energy rooted in this world: Qi.

If the Primeval World is the foundation, then Qi is the tool used to build the tower. The tools serve functions such as building, defending, and fighting.

The reason why science and Book Lord cultivation don't mix is that Qi is invisible to the naked eye, and when it becomes visible, it can be dangerous to the soul and body. Thus, Qi is kept in the Primeval World.

Thanks to Qi, Book Lords have a recovery speed faster than mortals, and when they work out, they gain a boost in strength by 99 times.

Aha…

Mickey let out a heavy sigh; the process of gathering Qi had been explained in the anime. It was simple, yet he was a complete newbie to the concept.

"Qi is breathed in when the mind and body are relaxed. The moment you start hearing your own breathing is when Qi enters the Primeval World."

Mickey felt relaxed, but when he started hearing his own breathing, his body moved, and the feeling was lost.

He kept making mistakes; this process was alien to him. After a few minutes of trying, he finally got the hang of it.

In his Primeval World, purple dust started to fall to the ground. This was Qi, which appears differently in the eyes of Book Lords.

It appeared purple because Mickey favored red and blue, the best colors to describe him.

The purple dust slowly gathered in the middle of the Primeval World, where day and night met. Normally, people would start chanting at this time, but Mickey remembered something from one of his favorite characters in the anime.

Using the power of his mind, he directed the crescent about to be formed toward the maple tree in the middle of the island.

All the Qi landed on the tree, causing it to shiver as if heavy rain was falling. The process took a few minutes until the maple tree began to shimmer with a purple hue.

Mickey immediately stopped and started directing his Qi to rain all over his Primeval World. This was his own idea, inspired by another cultivation novel.

It felt as though a calamity was taking place; the water in his Primeval World clashed violently against the island, causing some particles to disappear.

Mickey didn't stop, and after a few hours, the calamity ended. The ocean became serene, and Qi began to sink into both the water and the land.

Mickey wanted to keep going, but the wounds on his body began to impede him, and he opened his eyes wide.

Thud!

He wanted to touch his head but ended up slapping himself. "My body feels light."

His lips curled up. "Qi doesn't exist in the physical realm, but when I made it rain over my Primeval World, I was trying to connect it with my body. No wonder I feel a little pain. Theories from other anime and novels do work."

His smile faded. "My path might be slightly better... also, what is the sour taste in my mouth?"

The sweat was overwhelming, and his ears picked up the sound of something hitting his ceiling. "When did it start to rain?"

"I'll just wash myself outside and avoid going to the river. The squatters hate water; I'm sure they won't dare come outside."

Before he could go out, he saw water seeping in under his door, and his expression darkened.