A Fleeting Journey of the Sub-Account

Cold, lonely, sorrowful, miserable--

09 Sub-Account huddled inside a fist-sized chunk of rock, drifting through the void.

Yes, he was still alive, but what difference was there between living like this and being dead?

He might as well have been eaten five days ago.

"Ptui!"

After spitting, 09 Sub-Account began reminiscing. "What was my name again? Yang? Yang Chao? Or was it this Yang—Yang Yang Yang?"

Yes, he had suffered another heavy blow. Although all his memories were intact, he had once again forgotten his own name. He couldn't keep calling himself 09 Sub-Account forever. If a person had no name, how could he be a person?

"Forget it. I won't think about it. What exactly have I been through these past few days? Super terrifying!"

Six days ago, he had still been a promising young man with a name, hope, and potential. Then he discovered the secret of the Three-Headed Monster. That alone would have been nothing, but not long afterward, he felt that an evil eye had grown on his back.

What could he do?

He could only flee—soaring into the sky, burrowing underground, flashing, dispersing. He had tried every method, yet that eye still followed him like his shadow.

Only after the connection with the eye was forcibly severed by the Ancient God 'Game' did he realize that those little bastards from the Heavenly Mechanism Hall had been behind it.

Although this had allowed him to escape disaster, as the cleverest of countless sub-accounts, he immediately realized what had caused the two inexplicable instances of vomiting blood and losing cultivation he had suffered before.

"Main body? Ptui, that Zhang Yang is scheming again. This has to be the Curse Transfer Divine Ability. Ahhh, I hate him!"

09 Sub-Account was furious. How had he ended up so unlucky?