I'm a Contrarian in the Creepy Cultivation World

"Hold on, hold on, don't rush. Let's sort this out first." He was working the night shift at the funeral home, eating a steamed bun and watching the monitors, when the old man's corpse suddenly came back to life, grabbed his wrist, shoved a wooden token into his hand, and then everything went black. "And then I'm lying here. A mass grave. Grave mounds. Fog." He swallowed, feeling his throat go dry. "No way... I just got paid yesterday and haven't spent it yet. Haven't paid rent. Still got half a bag of steamed buns in the fridge. And I'm just gone like that?" He touched his own face—warm, with a pulse. Still alive. "Alive is enough. Alive means there's a way." He looked up at the gray, murky sky. "But what is this place? A mass grave? Did I transmigrate? Into a cultivation world?" A bullet comment popped up: [Congratulations, you've transmigrated] "Transmigrate my ass—I still have work tomorrow!" — Description from novelcodex.orgFull novel: I'm a Contrarian in the Creepy Cultivation World — read the rest free on N​o⁠v​e⁠l​C⁠o​d⁠e​x⁠.​o⁠r​g⁠