Chapter One: Drunkenly Violating the Heavenly Rules

Big David Bolton, while celebrating his promotion at a banquet, lost his composure after drinking. It happened to coincide with a crackdown in the Heavenly Palace, and he was severely punished: stripped of his immortal status for life, never to be reinstated, banished to the mortal realm, left to fend for himself.

His immortal veins severed, expelled from the Southern Heavenly Gate, he plummeted straight down toward the human world.

Not a single immortal in the Heavenly Court spoke up for him—truly, the world is cold and even immortals’ hearts are fickle.

Grand Supreme Elder Lord, I’ve served you loyally for so many years, fanning your flames and tending your fires day and night, brewing medicine and refining elixirs, never missing a single bow or gift on the three festivals and two birthdays each year—when have I ever fallen short?

Taibai Jinxing, that duster you love so much was a gift from me. How many days and nights did I risk getting my head chopped off, sneaking around to pluck enough heavenly horse tails to make you that one-of-a-kind duster? Damn it, even if I didn’t earn merit, I sure put in the effort.

Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King Li, you’re the most ungrateful of all. Even when you went to the latrine, you wouldn’t forget to show off your pagoda, but you forgot who handed you the toilet paper...

The more he thought about it, the more indignant and furious he became, letting out a roar from the depths of his heart.

He opened his eyes to see a flash of light. A flying sword? Doesn’t look like it! What kind of immortal artifact is this? Guangchengzi’s Heaven-Flipping Seal? Dodge! David Bolton tried to dodge, but his body clearly couldn’t keep up with his thoughts.

Smack!

White mist billowed, powder scattered everywhere, and David Bolton took a solid hit to the face from this so-called artifact. Luckily, his skin was thick enough that it didn’t hurt, but the white smoke made him cough twice in a row, drawing a burst of laughter from all around.

Only then did David Bolton realize he was sitting in a bright, square room, surrounded by a group of boys and girls dressed in strange clothes and sporting bizarre hairstyles, all sitting in neat rows.

What had just hit him in the face was a palm-sized felt eraser, covered in white powder—the very thing that had made him cough.

David Bolton blinked his small eyes; golden stars still danced before him. Suddenly, a string of numbers appeared in his mind: facial defense 10,000. He couldn’t figure out what it meant. As he pondered, another string of numbers appeared: base intelligence -250.

"David Bolton! Stand up right now!" the teacher shrieked in anger.

Don’t be fooled by her thick glasses—her aim and strength were perfectly controlled. In this fifty-square-meter classroom, whenever she made a move, she never missed.

David Bolton blinked again, looking dazed and confused. His first thought was: is this a setup? Did those immortals deliberately create an illusion to trick him?

"Did you hear me telling you to stand up?"

His deskmate, as nimble as a little monkey, quietly patted David Bolton's thigh under the desk and whispered, "Stand up quick, Mr. Foster is really mad."

Take good advice and you’ll never go hungry. Since he’d just arrived and didn’t know whether this was the human world or the demon realm, he decided to be patient and observe the situation first.

David Bolton hurriedly stood up, only then noticing that he’d shrunk quite a bit—once a strapping man of seven feet, now barely five.

His body had also become noticeably plump. To his dismay, he’d turned into a fat guy. As he stood, his belly accidentally bumped the desk, making the legs screech loudly against the floor.

Mr. Foster pointed at the equation on the blackboard. "Were you paying attention? Did you hear what I was teaching?"

David Bolton opened his eyes wide and his mouth even wider. The board was covered in strange symbols and circles—he had no idea what any of it meant.

"I know you don’t understand. I really don’t know why you’re so hopeless. You’re in the graduating class, the most critical stage of your life. If you want to give up and sleep in class, I can ignore you, but don’t distract others."

David Bolton realized he’d arrived in a completely unfamiliar environment, become a completely unfamiliar person. Aside from the name David Bolton, there was nothing left that connected him to his past.

Adapting to new situations had always been his strength. He immediately bowed deeply.

"I’m sorry, teacher. It’s my fault. I’ve let you down. I’m sorry!"

Seeing his sincere attitude, Mr. Foster calmed down a bit and sighed. "Sit down and reflect on your behavior."

David Bolton raised his chubby hand, wiped the drool from his cheek, and sat down—only to miss the chair entirely and land on the floor with a thud, knocking over the desk and chair with his bulky body, causing another round of laughter in the classroom.

David Bolton's rage meter shot up instantly. He clearly remembered the chair was right behind him a moment ago. No doubt his monkey-like deskmate had set him up. With that scrawny body, I could slap you right out the Southern Heavenly Gate.

Just as David Bolton was about to get up and give him a slap, he noticed his attack power was zero. That’s right—zero! Even more frustrating, his body’s defense was one, a world apart from the defense of his face.

Heavens, are you messing with me? Couldn’t you at least balance things out a bit? David Bolton weighed his current strength in his mind. A wise man doesn’t fight when the odds are against him. When under someone else’s roof, you have to keep your head down. I’ll endure for now—figure things out first.