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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: A Tedious and Predictable Tale
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"A tedious and predictable story... This life's doomed too, no doubt."
I suddenly looked up at the sky.
A piercingly blue winter sky. Beneath it stretched a vast white field.
The farthest memory I could recall, my very first one, was also of a snow-white winter field.
Standing in the snow, Mother puffed out white breaths as she spoke.
'My son, this is a running game.'
The Martial World.
A world within a world, ruled by strength.
There existed five families boasting immense wealth and overwhelming power.
Nangong Family
Huangbo Family
Hebei Peng Family
Moyong Family
Jegal Family
People called them the Five Great Families.
And Mother was a concubine of the Moyong Family.
One day, the Moyong Family Patriarch vanished without a trace.
That day, Mother suggested a running race.
We ran endlessly across the open plains. I didn't know where we were going or why we were running.
It didn't take long to realize this wasn't a game—it was a desperate flight for survival.
'This isn't a game. I want to go home. It's cold.'
'No one's left to protect us now.'
Mother kept shouting words I couldn't comprehend as a child.
And so, we mother and son ended up settling in a remote mountain village.
To avoid freezing to death, we patched up an abandoned shack with our raw, chapped hands as best we could.
To avoid starving, we wielded hoes and shovels like rice spoons.
Shouldering plows, we lived as poor farmers, fretting over rain from the sky and whether the rice ears would ripen properly, barely scraping by.
We endured like that for long years.
'No, this can't be right.'
Even working from sunrise to sunset, our bodies breaking under the hoe and axe, survival was a constant struggle.
Mother said we should always be grateful just to be alive like this, but I couldn't accept it.
In that impoverished life, every winter brought the dread of death.
One brutally cold winter.
On my fifteenth birthday, Mother froze to death.
'Wait here until the Patriarch comes for us. If he does, make sure to show him this.'
Mother placed a wooden box she always kept close in my hands.
To the end, she believed the Patriarch would come.
Mother had starved.
Mother was too frail to withstand the cold.
And so, Mother froze to death.
"..."
Inside the wooden box was a golden dragon clutching a black bead.
"This... damn it."
My eyes burned red.
My hands trembled.
-Great Moyong Family
The moment I saw the engraved letters, I hurled the box to the ground.
I stomped it to pieces.
"Why, even at the end—why that bastard...!"
I grabbed the golden dragon to throw it away but stopped.
I ground my teeth until my gums ached.
"Ugh... ugh... sob..."
I clutched the golden dragon with shaking hands.
Pressing it to my forehead, I prostrated myself on the cold floor.
I curled up beside Mother's frozen body.
The sun set.
The moon rose.
A rat emerged from the crumbling mud wall.
It stared blankly at the lifeless room before vanishing.
My body froze solid and my lips cracked, but I remained prostrated.
"Mother, what if... just what if."
Had a day passed?
Three days?
A week?
"If my fate is to cower in this backwater village until I die."
Before Mother's rigid corpse, I muttered in a hoarse voice.
"...I'll never accept that."
I didn't even dream of returning to the family.
I just wanted, as a human born into this world, to live with some enjoyment at least once.
To live in a tiled-roof house grand as a whale's back, take a pretty wife, and stuff myself with meat until my belly burst.
There was no choice.
I left the village on impulse.
Headed for the capital.
Even if I'd be crushed like a bug, I'd rather die challenging fate than submit.
To fend for myself—and perhaps seize any slim chance at success—I sought to learn martial arts.
I knocked on every sect door in sight, begging to be taken as a disciple.
"Too old."
Reality was harsh.
"You want to join our sect? Got a recommendation letter? No? Then get lost."
"Got a nickname? No? Can't help you."
I didn't even aim for the great sects of the Nine Great Sects and One Gang.
Even minor sects rejected me.
I wanted to collapse, but thought that would end everything.
I resolved to try harder.
I chased street vagrant warriors, desperate for even a single basic technique.
But there was no way to learn an internal energy cultivation method, essential for any warrior.
No one in the Martial World handed out cultivation methods freely.
Still, I didn't give up.
'If my internal energy's lacking, I'll make up for it with external strength. Somehow it'll work.'
I trained my stamina relentlessly and swung a sword without fail every day.
Practicing third-rate techniques, I vaguely believed a once-in-a-lifetime fateful encounter would come someday.
Time just dragged on endlessly.
"No internal energy at all by your age? What have you been doing while others cultivated? Out."
My thirty-second attempt.
The examiner at the minor sect's entrance test watched me and issued the eviction order.
"...Pardon? Wait, examiner."
I stood awkwardly, sword in hand.
The examiner gestured dismissively.
"Deaf? I said scram."
"At least let me show what I've prepared! Like this from the Six Harmonies Sword Technique—"
Smack.
My vision flashed white.
"Argh."
I clutched my nose.
Hot blood dripped through my fingers.
"Didn't hear the examiner? Get out."
Not even a warrior.
Just a gatekeeper servant gripped his oak staff threateningly.
"Damn it."
My vision went red.
My heart pounded furiously, humiliation surging.
"Tch, that glare's insolent! The world's gone mad—young punk with eyes like a filthy demonic cultist!"
The examiner we'd locked eyes with coughed awkwardly and looked away.
"Loosen that glare! Where'd you learn manners?"
I was beaten.
"Kuh."
The oak staff hurt like hell.
Mocked and pummeled.
"Filthy bug!"
I cried from the pain.
Cried from the injustice.
I shielded my head with both arms as kicks rained down.
Beaten like a rag, I was tossed out the entrance.
Clang.
The iron sword I'd starved a week for shattered and rolled away.
"Bastard who fattened up on age dares show up here?"
The door slammed shut.
Dazed, I stared at the half-broken sword beside me, meeting my reflection in the blade.
I was no longer a child with chances to learn.
'I've gotten this old already.'
When had time slipped by like this?
If only I'd had a chance.
If there had been just one opportunity.
I was confident I'd strive harder than anyone.
But no opportunity came.
I'd climbed mountains dreaming of sweet success.
But there was no peak—just a fall to the bottom, writhing there.
Once, dreams of glory let me sleep happily.
Now, even those dreams eluded me.
I wanted to drown in liquor.
Forget it all.
Clutching my swollen face, I staggered into a brothel and guzzled the cheapest booze.
Liquor I'd never touched during "training."
And it became my last drink.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"You're Moyong Bi, right?"
A wrecked brothel.
The stench of blood thick in my nose.
A red-masked figure held a blade to my throat.
Assassins.
Those who made killing their trade.
Two courtesans lay skewered by dozens of blades.
The brothel was in ruins.
"Haa... haa."
I pressed my palm to the blood spurting from my shoulder.
The red mask tilted her head before me.
"Heard you were third-rate, but you're holding up well. Natural bone structure?"
The masked voice was delicate, almost feminine.
She aimed a paper-thin longsword at my chin.
"Ahaha, look at those vengeful eyes. Gives me chills—been a while."
"Sect Leader, the Eighth Elder's guards seem to have caught on."
The red mask's laughter cut off.
"Guards? Estimated time."
"About one shichen."
"Well, that's enough time for some fun."
The red mask grinned again and beckoned me.
"Let's see if those eyes match your skill. You—grab a sword."
"...What?"
The red mask continued playfully.
"I'll give you hope of survival."
"Hope?"
She raised one finger.
"Promise. Graze me once, and you're free."
I stared blankly.
"Not enough? Fine, one more. Next time, any situation, I'll spare you once. Swear by heaven and earth."
"Sect Leader, forgive the interruption."
A subordinate stepped forward.
"The client requested the target's elimination."
The red mask froze.
"What are you implying?"
Her pupils narrowed vertically like a snake's.
Rumble...
Overwhelming killing intent filled the air.
"That I'd get grazed by trash like him?"
"...Ah."
Thud—the subordinate slammed his head to the ground.
"S-Sorry! Sect Leader, that's not what I meant!"
"..."
The mask stared at the subordinate before extending a hand sideways.
"No complaints now? Sword."
The red mask took the sword and tossed it to me.
"Well then, bastard young master?"
The sword trembled, stabbed into the floor before me.
"Wanna live? Then struggle."
"...!"
Reality was cruel.
No coincidences, no miracles.
Time blurred; my mind blanked the ordeal.
I just wanted to live.
I couldn't die here.
'I absolutely can't die.'
I remembered gripping the sword, flailing desperately.
Screaming like a demon, lunging at her.
Mother freezing on the heated floor flashed by.
The piercing blue winter.
Running endlessly hand-in-hand across the white field.
Huddled under Mother's corpse, sobbing silently.
Beaten by the gatekeeper, clutching my broken sword, sleeping on the street in tears.
'Not here.'
My sword-arm was severed.
I charged with my severed arm in my left hand.
Left arm snapped.
Sword in mouth, I lunged.
Thighs pierced through.
Crawling on my broken left arm, I attacked.
I felt the red mask's growing dismay. The game lost its fun.
'Not here...!'
I clung to her flapping hem. Swung at her face.
Her hand strike broke my blade.
The shard slashed her cheek.
"...Kuh!"
Her eyes widened.
Bloodshot.
'I can't die here—!'
The moment hope of survival dawned.
A piercing flash cut through all memories.
💥 CRITICAL STRIKE! 💥
-Pierced chest
It was a thrust piercing my chest.
The flash shattered the golden dragon at my neck and buried into my chest.
"Uh... ugh!"
My arms flailed.
I spat bloody foam.
"...This lie... you said... you'd let me live..."
"Ah."
The red mask stood dazed.
"Didn't think you'd be this mad!"
"Even trained assassins struggle with mutual destruction...! Sect Leader, are you alright?!"
Subordinates rushed in.
-Rustle
The cloth covering the red mask's mouth fell.
A vivid red line slashed her pale cheek.
Bright blood beaded.
"..."
The red mask touched her cheek.
Stared at the blood on her fingers.
Looked at my face.
Glanced down at her hand.
Her pupils quivered faintly.
"...To think I lost composure for a moment."
The red mask ground her teeth.
"Mission complete. Everyone, withdraw."
They vanished.
I was left alone.
Chest pierced, blood soaked me through.
Absurdity brought only laughter.
This was the end?
'I always gave my all.'
And it ended so pathetically?
Vision darkened.
Couldn't end like this.
Couldn't die like this.
I writhed in the encroaching darkness.
Unable to accept death, struggling more desperately than anyone.
So at first, I thought I'd misheard.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Reach out your hand...]
A voice like frostbite.
Chill creeping up my spine.
It came from the black bead the golden dragon had held.
The voice emanated from the black bead at my feet.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Grab me quickly.] [I've waited over a century... I'll give you a chance. To me, and to you. Rip them apart. All of them.]
"..."
Hallucination, maybe.
But.
Perhaps my last chance at life.
I ground my teeth.
"Grah... aaagh!!"
I rolled with all my strength.
Crawled like a worm.
Ignoring nerves burning like fire, I moved.
The bead glowed green again, whispering.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Clutch me.]
"...!"
One arm severed.
One arm broken.
Couldn't grasp with hands.
Both arms useless?
Then one way left.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Yes, grab...]
Crunch—I bit the bead with my gaping mouth.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Huh?]
The voice sounded flustered.
-Crunch
The bead's shell was soft.
In agony, I bit down hard on the bead in my mouth.
It shattered easily.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [You fool!]
The panicked voice scattered as the bead broke.
Viscous fluid from the shattered bead slid down my throat.
⚠️ POSSESSION EXPERIENCE - EMPATHY TERMINATED ⚠️ A wet, sticky voice—not the previous one—echoed in my mind. ⚙ EXTRACTION SYSTEM - DISPLAY COMPLETE ⚙ -Reinforcement Metamorphosis Application Started Body Restoration Proximate Sample Copy Template Loan -Host Removal Failed -Martial Arts Inheritance Failed -Ego Transfer Failed
Black blood-tentacles wrapped my body.
My flesh crumbled to pieces.
I sank into black lake water.
I'm dying.
Black water forced into my screaming mouth.
Sinking.
As consciousness faded, a thought struck me.
The world is sometimes so predictably cruel it's heartbreaking.
They say three chances come in a lifetime.
But I'd never had even one.
Even if obvious,
anyone at all,
if heaven exists, please—just one chance, I wanted to scream.
If given a chance.
If anyone granted one chance.
In this vomit-inducing, cruel, tedious, predictable reality, if granted even once—no matter the price.
📜 DEMONIC QUERY 📜
[Even if it's the Demon?]
A sticky whisper in the darkness.
I nodded.
"Even if it's the Demon...!"
The Heavenly Demon Copies Martial Arts