The Beginning of a Poisonous Scheme

The Deep Sea's undercurrents carried mud and debris, slowly surging across the sunless seabed.

Jingtian's consciousness awakened amid intense pressure and suffocation.

It was as though he had been stuffed into a narrow, slimy container filled with liquid, surrounded by absolute darkness and silent oppression. At first, he thought this was some state after death—after all, his final memory was of the blinding white light from the laboratory explosion and the searing pain of his skin instantly vaporizing.

But then, some primal survival instinct was stirred.

This body craved oxygen—no, not oxygen. It craved a purer, subtler energy that slowly and sparsely seeped through that slimy membrane.

I... didn't die?

The instant that thought arose, a torrent of fragmented memories crashed through his remaining thoughts. Countless bizarre images flashed by: an academy soaring into the clouds, crowds dressed in strange clothing, dazzling lights like fireworks, and a majestic proclamation that echoed between heaven and earth—

"My name is Tang San. Today, I inherit the positions of Sea God and Asura God, ascending to the God Realm!"

Among the chaotic memory fragments, that voice was the clearest and most shocking. What followed was an unfamiliar, immense flood of information: basic knowledge of this world, knowledge of Soul Power, Soul Rings, soul beasts, and humans...

As well as knowledge about "himself."

Blue-Ringed Octopus. A relatively small molluscan soul beast born in the Deep Sea, slow-moving and reliant on camouflage and potent venom to hunt or defend itself. It occupied the lower-middle levels of the food chain and was usually just an appetizer for certain large predators.

I've turned into... an octopus? A soul beast? And this place... is the Douluo Continent?!

A sense of absurdity engulfed him like a tidal wave. But in the next moment, an even stronger sense of danger seized him.

Something was approaching.

Not through sound—the Deep Sea was terrifyingly silent. Nor through sight—he was probably still in an embryonic or larval stage, and his visual organs had yet to fully develop. It was an instinctive perception of life-energy fluctuations, originating from a soul beast's nature.

A huge, hungry source of energy carrying cold predatory intent was circling near the "container" in which he lay.

Jingtian's consciousness whirled frantically. The memories he had fused told him this was a Deep Sea region far from the continental shelf, where food was scarce and competition brutal. The mother of this Blue-Ringed Octopus might have already met with disaster, leaving behind only this clutch of unhatched eggs. And now, some predator had discovered this "source of nourishment."

The desire to survive overwhelmed everything. Jingtian desperately began sensing this unfamiliar body. He could not "see," but he could "feel"—within his body flowed a faint yet unique power. It was not the Soul Power described in his memories, but a more restrained, more obscure energy, as though it had been born with him. It lurked deep within every cell of his body, carrying a "toxicity" that made even Jingtian's soul tremble slightly.

At the same time, a peculiar connection existed between his body and the egg membrane surrounding him. Outside the membrane, the waters of the Deep Sea were likewise filled with an extremely faint yet omnipresent energy that shared the same origin as the "toxicity" within his body. The egg membrane was slowly absorbing it, nourishing his body.

This energy... isn't Soul Power. What is it? Never mind. I need to survive first!

The malicious source of energy outside drew closer. Jingtian could even "feel" its greedy "gaze"—a purely instinctive scan.

He stopped panicking and focused all his consciousness, attempting to communicate with the faint mysterious energy inside his body. There was no cultivation method and no guidance, only instinct. He imagined himself as a sponge, desperately drawing in the same-origin energy seeping through the egg membrane, then guiding it toward a certain part of his body—those clusters of cells that felt most active and stored more "toxicity."

The process was clumsy and inefficient. But he had no time.

"Pop."

An exceedingly soft cracking sound, almost swallowed by the undercurrent. The egg membrane was pierced from outside by something sharp, leaving a small hole. Icy Deep Sea water mixed with a dense Soul Power aura poured in, followed by the tip of a slimy tentacle covered in suckers, attempting to widen the breach and reach inside to seize nourishment.

Now!

Jingtian mixed all the "toxic" energy he had just gathered with his desperate resolve and fiercely "sprayed" it through the opening!

There was no earth-shaking sound. Only a faint, nearly imperceptible streak of dark-blue light flashed along the invading tentacle and vanished.

The huge energy source outside suddenly froze.

Then a chaotic, agonized surge of Soul Power, mixed with incredulous fury, came crashing over him like an explosive shockwave! The egg membrane shook violently, and Jingtian felt as if he had been thrown into a blender. But the suction gripping the egg membrane disappeared.

He "heard" a silent wail—the cry of life energy violently collapsing. That enormous source of Soul Power began struggling madly, churning vast amounts of seawater and mud, yet its life aura melted and dimmed at an astonishing speed, like ice beneath the blazing sun.

Within only a few breaths, everything returned to Silence.

Only the remaining seawater, carrying a faint fishy saltiness and a trace of strange sweetness—was that the taste of his "poison"?—flowed slowly past.

Jingtian's consciousness was somewhat blurred from exhaustion, but an intense weakness from surviving a disaster, accompanied by an indescribable thrill, filled his "heart."

He had survived. Using this body's innate "poison," he had killed a predator far stronger than himself.

But the danger was far from over. The disturbance might draw other creatures here. The egg membrane had been damaged and had lost part of its protection. He had to hatch as quickly as possible and leave this place.

He continued desperately absorbing that faint mysterious energy. While repairing the damaged egg membrane, he also accelerated his body's maturation. The memories he had fused told him that a soul beast's growth depended heavily on time and opportunity, yet he vaguely sensed that the unique "toxic energy" within him might be able to break some established rule.

Time lost all meaning in the silent Deep Sea. Perhaps several days passed, perhaps only several hours. At last, Jingtian felt the egg membrane binding him grow fragile, while his body filled with strength—a strength still tiny, yet holding deadly potential.

He gathered his energy one last time and gave a gentle struggle.

"Pop."

The egg membrane shattered completely. Jingtian—this newborn Blue-Ringed Octopus—slowly stretched his somewhat immature arms, upon which magnificent blue ring patterns had already begun to emerge, and truly "opened" his eyes for the first time.

Before him was not complete darkness. The Deep Sea was not utterly lightless. Certain special visual cells allowed him to barely make out his surroundings: a barren seabed covered in fine gray sand and sea rocks, several clumps of algae emitting faint phosphorescence, and...

Not far in front of him lay the corpse of a massive soul beast resembling a giant lobster, its carapace covered in strange dark-blue veins. It had completely lost its life aura and lay silently upon the seabed.

It was dozens of times larger than Jingtian was now. One severed tentacle still rested beside Jingtian's broken eggshell.

Jingtian slowly swam closer—his swimming speed truly was very slow—and stretched out an arm to lightly touch the dimmed dark-blue patterns on its carapace. A faint remnant of same-origin "poison" resonated with the energy within his body.

So it was you... Thank you for your "gift." Jingtian silently said to himself.

He knew that devouring this soul beast's corpse would become his first foundation for surviving in this cruel world. The Soul Power and life essence contained in the corpse could allow him to swiftly pass through his most vulnerable larval stage.

Yet at the same time, a deeper chill rose from the depths of his memories.

He recalled that majestic voice—"My name is Tang San. Today, I inherit the positions of Sea God and Asura God, ascending to the God Realm!"

Tang San had just become a god and ascended. The story of the Douluo Continent had only just entered a seemingly glorious but actually long-planned "future."

And he, Jingtian—a Blue-Ringed Octopus soul beast that had just broken free of its shell, pitifully weak—knew the rough outline of that "future." He knew how that God King would control this world ten thousand years later, how he would drive the fate of soul beasts into the abyss.

The Deep Sea was soundless, with only the undercurrents flowing without end.

The newborn little octopus gently wrapped his arms around the prey's carapace. His dark-blue rings flickered with a cold, resolute light upon the dim seabed.

His poisonous scheme quietly began in this world.