This Demon Cultivator Isn't Too Cold

Assassins, demonic cultivators.

A lawless small-town narcotics officer, a Righteous Path Cultivator who brings harm to the innocent.

An ordinary girl in need of salvation…

…

Countless images overlapped in Lu Ze’s mind, sparking boundless inspiration.

"An illusionary realm… doesn’t necessarily have to be crafted solely for games."

Lu Ze murmured to himself.

"Or rather…"

"Could we turn a movie into a game?"

At this thought, Lu Ze’s mind suddenly cleared.

The script of Léon: The Professional was undeniably exceptional.

Moreover, many of its settings could be easily localized.

Adapting the localized script into a role-playing narrative game wouldn’t be difficult given Lu Ze’s current abilities.

Additionally, a two-hour movie, when transformed into a game, would likely take around six to eight hours to complete—a perfect length for this round of competition.

Most importantly, this script could entirely sidestep the collective stigma of "demonic cultivators," focusing instead on the characters themselves. This approach was bound to evoke empathy from Righteous Path Cultivators for the tragic protagonist.

Not all demonic cultivators were inherently evil or guilty.

If this idea took root and prompted Righteous Path Cultivators to reflect, the system’s mission conditions could be smoothly fulfilled.

With his mind made up, Lu Ze immediately decided:

Léon: The Professional it would be.

Or perhaps it should be called This Demonic Cultivator Isn’t So Cold.

No time to waste—Lu Ze began planning the illusionary realm at once.

Though the concept was clear, execution was far from simple.

The essence of a role-playing game lay in "role-playing."

How could he ensure cultivators would immerse themselves in the protagonist’s mindset?

From a first-person perspective, Lu Ze couldn’t guarantee every cultivator would align with the protagonist’s emotions.

"Use dialogue choices like in my past life? No… too bland."

Lu Ze quickly dismissed the idea.

In a VR world with near-limitless freedom, forcing players to rely solely on scripted choices would likely frustrate them.

"Grant players some freedom… while using choices to guide the narrative?"

A new approach soon took shape in Lu Ze’s mind.

His hands moved swiftly through the air, tracing an intricate formation.

With a thought, he summoned several digital souls from the Cyber Ten Thousand Souls Banner for testing.

After several iterations, the formation’s function began to take form.

Lu Ze dubbed it the "Role-Playing System."

When players assumed a role, their actions would influence a corresponding "Behavior Score."

- A score above 80: Players could act freely, shaping the story.

- A score below 80: Players would rely on dialogue and action choices to maintain narrative coherence.

- A score below 50: Role-playing would fail, ending the game.

This way, players wouldn’t feel restricted, yet the story could still unfold as intended.

Of course, this was just the system’s foundation—Lu Ze planned further refinements.

"Then there’s Mathilda…"

Having solved one problem, Lu Ze stroked his chin, deep in thought again.

Beyond Lyon, the young girl Mathilda was an indispensable character.

Simply replicating the movie’s dialogue and actions would feel stiff.

Fortunately, the Cyber Ten Thousand Souls Banner provided a solution.

The digital souls’ mimicry and intelligence surpassed even the most advanced AI from his past life.

Lu Ze had long considered using digital souls to portray NPCs—now was the perfect opportunity to test the idea.

The question was: Who should play Mathilda?

Suddenly, an image flashed in Lu Ze’s mind—a young girl, trembling yet resolute, standing protectively before a youth, her eyes glistening with defiance.

In that moment, her silhouette overlapped perfectly with the short-haired girl from the film.

Without delay, Lu Ze opened his illusionary realm contacts list.

He had intended to reach Zhong Yi, but the latter was unusually offline.

Zhou Yue, however, was available. Lu Ze sent him a message:

"Senior Brother Zhou, where’s Senior Brother Zhong Yi?"

"Him? Something unfortunate happened."

"What’s wrong?"

"That incident with the girl and the demonic cultivator… someone leaked it. Now it’s blowing up!"

Frowning, Lu Ze instinctively checked the forum.

The section he’d built had become the cultivation world’s largest hub for discourse—any major scandal could be found there.

Sure enough, discussions about Zhong Yi shielding a demonic cultivator dominated the front page:

[Rumor: Lingxiao Sect’s True Disciple Secretly Delivers Food to Demonic Cultivator]

[Demonic Cultivator Seduces Innocent Girl—Execute Immediately!]

[No Wonder the Nascent Soul Elder Took Three Days to Capture the Demonic Cultivator—Was He Corrupted?]

[Is This Worthy of Being a True Disciple? Petition to Strip Zhong Yi’s Cultivation as a Warning!]

[A Disgrace to the Righteous Path!!]

Lu Ze’s frown deepened.

Though this world lacked organized troll farms, it was clear someone powerful was pulling strings behind the scenes.

"Don’t worry, Senior Brother Zhou. Once my illusionary realm is ready, I’ll clear Senior Brother Zhong Yi’s name!"

Lu Ze reassured him.

"Truly?!"

Zhou Yue’s eyes lit up with hope.

When it came to Lu Ze’s words—especially regarding the illusionary realm—he had absolute faith.

"Truly."

"That’s a relief… By the way, what did you need from Old Zhong? I can help."

"Mm." Lu Ze nodded.

"Please have the demonic cultivator and the girl beside him try the Illusionary Tower."

"Eh???"

Zhou Yue was dumbfounded.

What kind of request was this?

Though the girl lacked cultivation, Zhou Yue had ways to help her enter the tower.

But he couldn’t fathom Lu Ze’s reasoning.

Lu Ze added:

"Have them play Cultivator’s Descent: 100 Floors."

"???"

"Make them play nonstop for three days and nights. Senior Brother Zhou, you must supervise—no going easy on them."

"???"

Zhou Yue took a deep breath, utterly stunned.

"Junior Brother Lu… maybe just execute them instead?"

[P.S.]

[Originally, this segment was meant to feature Song of the Hunger, depicting the suffering of a chaotic era and delivering emotional gut-punches.]

[But Song of the Hunger’s text and plot were far too extensive—requiring at least 40 chapters to do justice. Too short, and it’d be incoherent; too long, and it’d drag.]

[The pairing of the girl and the youth reminded me of Léon: The Professional. Though not a game, its pacing fit perfectly here, and adapting it would be far simpler than most games.]

[Since narrative-driven games prioritize story over mechanics, a masterfully structured tale like this would hold its own against any game in this context.]

"I know some people will say this is off-topic, that they won't read it, or that the chosen theme isn't good."

"First, I'll unfold the player's perspective through a gaming approach."

"Second, this won't just be a simple retelling of the film's content."

"Finally, no matter what game you write about, there will always be critics—it's not really about whether it's a game or which specific game it is..."

"This is just a simple experiment. If it's not to your taste, feel free to wait for the next fantasy realm. Aside from this section, the rest will adapt the game into a mystical illusion."

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