The People's God: Sacrificing Trillions to Ascend

Han Wu’s last memory is the taste of blood and ash as he steps off the edge, convinced the world has no place for a boy with a locust swarm for a soul.

In a vast ladder of civilizations where divinity is a career path and entire peoples are raised as offerings so a chosen few can climb, Han Wu drew the short lot. His parents vanished when he was a child, leaving only questions and a promise in his grandfather’s roughened hands. At eighteen, the day others awaken to radiant dragons, blazing seraphs, or titanic beasts, he opens his core—and finds only locusts, the sneered‑at bottom of the divine hierarchy. His grandfather dies soon after. The bullies’ laughter follows him even into silence. He decides he’s had enough.

But death doesn’t keep the body.

An unknown soul from a modern, mundane world wakes up inside Han Wu’s corpse, inheriting the ruined reputation, the broken promise, and the crawling, despised core race. He keeps the name. He keeps the vow.

Among endless realms—gentle worlds like quiet gardens, war‑torn hellscapes of bone and fire, skies ruled by angels, swamps choked with goblins, empires of orcs, demons, and the undead—this new Han Wu begins again. Locusts become his army, his eyes and teeth and shield. Every civilization he steps into is a resource, a battleground, and a stepping stone toward two goals: drag his way up to godhood, and gather the power to seek the parents who disappeared into the dark.

To ascend in this cosmos is to burn through lives like fuel. Han Wu is prepared to spend trillions.