The world blurred, the quiet hum of the inn room fading into a cacophony of echoing screams and bittersweet memories. Ren's mind, a tempest of contradictory power and burning ambition, shattered. The gentle touch of Li Mei's hand, the quiet joy of their simulated century, the crushing despair of their final, shared breath – it all swirled, merging with the icy chill of betrayal and the arbitrary cruelty of the demonic path. His meticulously crafted plans, his cold, calculated strategies, twisted into something visceral, raw.
A profound, agonizing rage ignited within him, unlike anything he had ever felt. It wasn't just frustration at the limitations of his poor roots, or the System's dictates, or the unfairness of the cultivation world. It was a primal fury at being a **puppet**, at having to *simulate* to survive, to *lose* what he cherished, even in a fleeting dream. He had died countless times, suffered endless torment, all at the whim of an unseen force, a *code*.
The System, still shimmering before him, seemed to falter. Its cold, pristine interface flickered, momentarily glitching. And then, a horrifying, impossible thing happened. A force, not from his body, not from his core, but from deep within his very being, a nascent, unquantifiable hunger, surged forth. The System's panels, its shimmering text, its very essence, began to **recede, drawn in, consumed**. It wasn't a manual action; it was an instinct, a profound, irreversible shift.
Ren doubled over, a scream tearing from his throat, not of pain, but of a terrifying **liberation**. The boundaries of his body, the limits of his spirit, *shattered*. His **A-grade Demonic Innate Talent**, his **A+ Pure Yang Physique**, his **A Shadow Walker**, his **A++ Karmic Affinity (Light)**, his **A+ Formation Master's Heart** – they didn't just *integrate*; they **fused**, becoming a single, terrifying, harmonious torrent of power. The concepts of "demonic" and "righteous" became meaningless, dissolving into pure, unadulterated might.
His cultivation, already at Foundation Establishment Stage 1, exploded. He ripped through the subsequent stages of Foundation Establishment, not in years, but in **moments**. The air around him crackled, spiritual energy forming a visible vortex, then a roaring gale. He wasn't cultivating; he was **devouring**. He broke through **Golden Core**, the realm of sect masters and ancient power, as effortlessly as he once broke a twig. His body transformed, no longer frail, no longer bound by its poor roots. His skin became luminous, his bones like jade, his meridians vast rivers of pure Qi.
He was no longer just absorbing spiritual energy; he was absorbing the very **essence of the world around him**, drawing on unseen energies, pulling on the threads of fate. His consciousness expanded, encompassing the entire inn, then the mountain, then the distant city. He felt the minute spiritual fluctuations, the hidden arrays, the living beings within.
His mind flashed with memories of a distant, fragmented past – stories, concepts from another life, another world. **Novels.** Codes. Control. He remembered tales of protagonists defying heaven, shattering limits. He had been a puppet, but no more. He didn't want to *simulate* until he died of old age, not even with love. He wanted **power. Real power. Absolute control.**
His gaze fixed on the peculiar crystal that served as a centerpiece in the inn room. He knew, with an instinct far beyond mere talent, that it was not just a decoration. He reached out, his hand passing *through* the physical object, his consciousness delving into its core. Information, ancient and vast, flooded his mind. Knowledge of spatial manipulation, of creating domains, of bending reality itself.
A cold, determined light filled his eyes. *No more hiding. No more pretending.* He reached out, not with physical force, but with a newly awakened, terrifying mental command. The very space within the inn room **warped, tore open**, revealing a swirling void. He poured his essence into it, **shaping a small, stable pocket dimension**, a world within a world. This wasn't a treasure realm; it was a sanctuary, a secret.
He thought of Li Mei, her gentle smile, her desperate, outstretched hand in his last simulated death. *She will not die again.* With a thought, he reached out, not across physical space, but across the fabric of fate itself. A faint, almost imperceptible karmic thread, established by his System-granted **Karmic Connection** ability, stretched out. He pulled gently, carefully, willing her essence, her soul, to be safe. He didn't know how, but he *knew* she would arrive, safe, within this newly forged haven. He could feel it, an absolute certainty that transcended logic.
In her place, in the flow of time and space, he manifested a **perfectly crafted doppelganger**, a detailed **lure**, designed to fulfill her karmic role in the original timeline, ensuring the world's fabric remained undisturbed. He would support the sect when necessary, through this proxy, but his true self, his true power, would be unbound.
Ren's eyes, once filled with the weariness of endless simulation, now blazed with a cold, terrifying light. He stood at the **peak of this world**, his cultivation surpassing all known realms, even **Nascent Soul**, reaching a level beyond comprehension. He was a force of nature, a living, breathing code of dominance. His rage, previously directed inward, now sharpened into a cold, lethal anger at the unseen entity that had dared to imprison him in a cycle of endless suffering.
*You thought you could control me? Play with my life? Force me into your damned simulations?* A chilling smile touched his lips. *I am awake. And you… you're next.*
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What is the first decisive action Ren takes in the real world, now that he has seemingly consumed the System, achieved ultimate power, and created a personal sanctuary for Li Mei?