After Switching Bodies with the Villainous Demon Lord - Chapter 2

Duan Ze’s entire consciousness was floating in a daze, until a deep, hoarse voice dragged him back to reality.

“Lord, shall we act ahead of schedule?”

Lord? What lord?

Duan Ze blinked blankly, stunned by the unfamiliar surroundings around him.

Where was this? Wasn’t he supposed to be in the forest near Cangyu Sect?

He raised a hand to rub his eyes—only to see a hand that clearly wasn’t his. It was elegant, with distinct knuckles, and noticeably larger than what he was used to.

His gaze dropped, and he realized he was sitting on a strange-looking chair. The original Duan Ze had always worn light-colored robes, either white or pale blue, but now he was dressed in a deep black robe embroidered with subtle dark patterns in gold thread. The heavy hem pooled at his feet, luxurious and imposing.

What was going on?

Duan Ze pressed his lips together tightly, anxiety welling up inside him.

“Lord?” The same voice sounded again.

He paused, then lifted his eyes and looked out.

The speaker was an old man with silver hair and a slim, upright figure. Seeing that Duan Ze hadn’t responded, the old man looked up at him. “Is something wrong?”

His cheeks were sunken, eyes sharp like blades—harsh and stern—but buried deep within his gaze was an unmistakable fear.

And unlike ordinary humans, the man had two small, jet-black horns protruding from each side of his forehead, like newly sprouted bamboo shoots.

This was a trait only seen in the demon race.

So this… was the Demon Realm?

Duan Ze’s heart sank. His grip on the armrest tightened slightly. He didn’t rush to answer, but instead looked beyond the old man at the dozen or so men standing behind him—each also sporting a pair of little horns.

All of them stood with heads bowed, not daring to breathe too loudly, waiting respectfully for his reply. Their reverent posture made it clear—whoever was sitting at the top of these stairs… wasn’t someone to mess with.

Duan Ze was pretty sure now—he had transmigrated again. As for who exactly he became, he wasn’t sure yet, but definitely not anyone decent.

His thoughts raced before he quickly reined them in. Turning his gaze back to the old man, he carefully replied, “Nothing’s wrong.”

The voice that came out was low and magnetic, like a bubbling spring—pleasant to the ear.

Hearing his answer, the tension in everyone’s backs instantly eased.

Silence blanketed the great hall.

Not a single person dared speak.

After a short pause, the old man spoke again. “Then, as the Lord said, we’ll begin the assault on Cangyu Sect ahead of schedule.”

Cangyu Sect?

Duan Ze straightened a bit, his expression unchanged. He casually pointed to a thin man behind the elder. “You. Tell me what the plan is.”

Then, he glanced around to observe the others’ reactions. No one questioned him—in fact, they seemed even more restrained.

The man he pointed at went pale instantly. He stepped forward with trembling legs and dropped to his knees with a thump, his entire body shaking slightly. It was clear he was terrified, though trying hard not to show it.

“This mission is to have Lord lead his subordinates and fellow demon kin into the cultivation world to attack Cangyu Sect, with the final goal of taking the head of Cangyu Sect’s Shizu, Duan Ze.” The man choked through the explanation, his words brief and to the point.

He had zoned out for just one second—who knew he’d get called on by Master at that exact moment.

I’m doomed. Totally doomed.

The man shut his eyes in despair, already imagining the faces of his colleagues who’d recently been dragged out and skinned alive, their screams echoing in his ears.

Duan Ze gave a barely noticeable nod. So… he’d transmigrated into his own nemesis. And not just any enemy, but one from the Demon Realm.

He pushed aside a few loose strands of hair and made a mental note.

“This isn’t urgent. We’ll talk about it another day. I…” He glanced at the group again, and changed his wording. “This one is tired. You may leave.”

The thin man jerked his head up to look at Duan Ze, bowed deeply, and when he looked up again, his eyes were already teary, like someone who’d just survived a near-death experience. “Many thanks, Lord.”

Everyone standing below exchanged glances, relief washing over their faces. Master seemed to be in a good mood today.

⸻

Escorted by his guards, Duan Ze stepped out into the night. The sky was still pitch-black. He ordered the guards to take him straight back to his quarters.

Once inside, he dismissed everyone.

Even though they tried to hide it, every single one of them visibly relaxed as they left.

Was this body really that scary?

As he pushed open the door, a faint fragrance wafted in on the wind. A few night pearls hung in the corners of the room, casting a soft glow over everything.

The decor was just as extravagant as expected—any random chair in here probably came from some thousand-year-old ancient tree.

He didn’t waste time admiring the room. Instead, he walked straight to the table with a bronze mirror.

After mentally preparing himself, he looked into the mirror.

The reflection showed a man with slightly wild peach blossom eyes, thick brows, and thin lips. Even without a smile, the corners of his mouth tilted up slightly, as if he was always on the verge of mocking someone. Altogether, the face wasn’t as terrifying as he imagined—perhaps because the soul inside had changed.

Duan Ze examined the man closely. Every feature was perfectly in place—add one more or take one away and the charm would vanish.

He touched the small horns on each side of his forehead. Unlike the others’, his were crimson with golden patterns, and when he touched them, they tickled faintly.

This was the first time he had gotten a close look at a demon.

Until now, he had spent most of his time holed up in a cave, reading or writing storybooks, or just sleeping.

He called it “closed-door cultivation,” but really, it was just to avoid getting discovered for secretly practicing a forbidden technique. No outsiders meant fewer risks—even if he broke character, no lightning would strike him down.

For fifty years, he’d lived a peaceful, low-key life. So peaceful, in fact, that he had almost forgotten—besides the protagonist, there was also his mortal enemy, the biggest villain of the book—Demon Lord Xiao Wuchen.

Counting on his fingers, yeah, it was just about the time when he and his enemy were supposed to duel. That battle left both of them gravely wounded, with Duan Ze’s injuries turning into an incurable condition. In the end, the protagonist reaped the benefits.

A sworn enemy, extremely high status, and a terrible personality.

All of these lined up perfectly with Xiao Wuchen.

Now that he’d seen his reflection, Duan Ze was sure he had transmigrated into Demon Lord Xiao Wuchen’s body.

Such a brutal character—one who had killed countless people—yet still made others willingly follow him to the ends of the earth. Now that Duan Ze looked at him closely, he had to admit, it made sense.

From all the novels he’d read, he could tell—this guy was definitely a beauty.

But why the hell did he transmigrate into the Demon Lord?

Was it because his weakened body in the forest couldn’t handle the lightning strike and just… short-circuited? Then where did the real Demon Lord go?

When he became the shizu, he inherited the original’s memories and found out the guy had died from qi deviation. But this time? No memories.

He didn’t even know if the Demon Lord was still alive somewhere.

Duan Ze paced around the room, only now realizing how heavy and restrictive his robes were. He turned to the wardrobe and picked out the simplest, most low-key outfit, immediately feeling ten pounds lighter.

He still didn’t know why he transmigrated again, but since he was now the Demon Lord, he’d roll with it for now.

A capricious character who did whatever the hell he wanted was way easier to play than the dignified, straight-laced shizu.

He tried circulating his spiritual power. As expected, he could only use about thirty percent of his strength for now. The body’s original cultivation was more aligned with demonic energy, and not fully compatible with his own. He’d need time to adjust.

Thankfully, Xiao Wuchen’s cultivation level was one of the highest in the cultivation world—on par with his peak power from before. Even at thirty percent, he could still move freely within the Demon Realm.

The storage ring this body used wasn’t like his old one—he couldn’t fully access it, probably due to a mismatch in mental energy. He could barely pry open a sliver to retrieve a few high-grade transformation and teleportation talismans before the thing locked itself tight again.

After checking everything, Duan Ze still wasn’t tired. He figured while it was still late and quiet, he’d go explore the Demon Palace.

But just as he stepped out of the room, he saw someone kneeling in the courtyard—someone who had clearly been dismissed earlier—and now blocked his path.

⸻

Author’s Note:

Xiao Wuchen, living on in Xiao Ze’s narration.