The city was asleep when Wei Heng slipped back into his apartment building, a ghost in the humid night. He moved with an economy of motion that belied his lanky teenage frame, his footsteps making no sound on the worn concrete stairs. The key turned in the lock with a barely audible click. He held his breath, listening. From his parents' bedroom, he could hear the soft, rhythmic sound of his father's snoring. Good. They were asleep.
He closed the door behind him, the darkness of the small living room a familiar comfort. In his worn backpack, the plastic bottles filled with the glowing water from the Spring of Restoration felt heavier than they should, weighted with the potential they held. The Gorgon-Crawler's core, wrapped in a spare cloth, pulsed with a faint, cold energy against his back.
In his room, he didn't turn on the light. The ambient glow from the city outside was more than enough for his cultivator-honed senses. He carefully placed the bottles and the core on his desk, his movements precise and deliberate. The first two pillars of his grand design were now in place: a catalyst for physical tempering and a seed of future wealth.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, one of the bottles in his hand. The water inside swirled with a faint, silvery light. 'The Spring of Restoration,' he mused, his mind accessing the knowledge of an ancient alchemist from his inheritance. 'It doesn't grant power, but purges impurities and strengthens the vessel. For this fragile body, it's more valuable than any divine pill.'
Uncapping the bottle, he didn't hesitate. He drank the entire contents in one long, steady motion. The water was cool and tasteless, but the moment it entered his system, a searing heat erupted from his stomach, spreading through his veins like molten lava.
It was an agony he hadn't felt in millennia. His body, soft and unrefined, was being forcibly scoured from the inside out. He clenched his jaw, refusing to make a sound, his knuckles turning white. A wave of dizziness washed over him as every cell screamed in protest. This was the price of power, a lesson he had learned ten thousand times over. He focused his mind, entering a meditative state and beginning the 'Primordial Chaos Breathing Method' again, this time using the explosive energy from the spring water as fuel.
He guided the torrent of pure energy through his meridians, using it to pulverize the stubborn blockages and expel the accumulated dross of a lifetime of modern living. A thick, black, foul-smelling grime oozed from his pores, coating his skin in a disgusting film. The pain was immense, but his will, forged over ten thousand years of solitude and hardship, was unbreakable. He was a master craftsman reforging a dull, rusted blade into a divine weapon.
Hours passed. The first hint of dawn began to paint the sky outside his window. The searing pain slowly subsided, replaced by a warm, invigorating flow of energy. He felt... lighter. Stronger. The world seemed sharper, the distant sounds of the city clearer. He had successfully taken the first step from a mortal vessel to a cultivator's body. He was still weak, but the foundation was now laid. A flawless foundation.
He rose, his movements fluid and silent, and quickly showered, washing away the filth. Looking in the small, cracked bathroom mirror, he saw the first tangible results. His skin, once pale and slightly sallow from a teenager's poor diet and lack of sleep, now had a healthy, almost luminous glow. His eyes, once dull, were now clear and bright, with a depth that seemed to hold ancient secrets. He was still the same Wei Heng on the surface, but a subtle, fundamental change had occurred. He now possessed a vitality that no normal seventeen-year-old could have.
When his mother called him for breakfast, her reaction was immediate. "A-Heng, you look... well-rested," she said, her brow furrowed in slight confusion as she placed a bowl of congee on the table. "Did you actually sleep well for once?"
"I did, Mom," he replied, his voice calm. "I feel great."
His father, Wei Jianjun, a quiet man worn down by years of factory work, grunted from behind his newspaper. "Good. Keep that energy for your studies. The exams are what matter."
Wei Heng simply nodded, eating his breakfast. The conversation was mundane, normal. It was a scene he had replayed in his mind countless times during his long cultivation, a memory that had kept him sane. Now, living it again, he felt a strange mix of profound peace and clinical detachment. He was an observer in his own life, a player moving pieces on a board he had already memorized.
After breakfast, he returned to his room and booted up his computer. It had been 72 hours. The "Crimson Wave" event was over. He logged into his anonymous exchange account, his fingers flying across the keyboard. The numbers on the screen confirmed his perfect foresight. His initial investment of 2,137 yuan had transformed.
Total assets: 9,616.5 yuan.
It wasn't a fortune, but it was a significant victory. He had more than quadrupled his entire life savings in three days without leaving his room. He immediately liquidated the position, transferring the funds to his untraceable wallet. He couldn't risk leaving it on the exchange.
'Next step,' he planned, his mind already moving on. 'This is seed money. I need to grow it exponentially. The announcement of the 'Stardust Corporation's' new material composite is in one week. Their stock will jump 800% in a single day. I will put everything into it.' This knowledge came from a different inheritance, that of a 21st-century tech investor. The beauty of the 100,000 legacies was its sheer, overwhelming breadth of expertise.
Meanwhile, across the city, in the gleaming headquarters of the Azure Dragon Guild, Lin Xia stared at a report on her screen with frustration.
"Nothing?" she asked the intelligence analyst standing before her desk.
"Nothing, Captain," the man replied, adjusting his glasses. "We've reviewed all public and private surveillance footage within a five-kilometer radius of the Nanping warehouse district for the twelve hours preceding your team's arrival. No known hunters, no guild members, no one of interest entered the area. The only activity was a few stray dogs and a homeless man who was asleep in an alley two blocks away."
Lin Xia leaned back in her chair, tapping a pen against the polished wood of her desk. "So, a ghost cleared a hidden dungeon, executed a mid-tier guardian with surgical precision, and vanished without a trace?"
"It would appear so," the analyst said. "The kill was... unusual. Our lab analysis confirmed the guardian was killed by a single, crushing blow to the head. The force was immense, but also incredibly focused. No wasted energy. It's the signature of a master combatant, not a lucky scavenger."
"A master who isn't on anyone's radar," Lin Xia finished, her eyes narrowing. In the highly regulated world of Hunters, true anonymity was almost impossible. Everyone had a rank, a guild affiliation, or at least a registration with the Association. This person operated completely outside the system. It was either a sign of supreme confidence or utter foolishness. Given the evidence, she suspected the former.
"Keep digging," she commanded. "Cross-reference missing persons reports with recent awakenings. Check the underground forums. I want to know who this is. An unknown variable of this caliber is a threat until proven otherwise."
"Yes, Captain." The analyst bowed and left the room.
Lin Xia turned her chair to face the panoramic window overlooking the city. A new player had appeared on the board. A player who knew things they shouldn't and moved in the shadows. Her competitive spirit, the very thing that drove her to be the best, was ignited. This wasn't just a mystery; it was a challenge. And Lin Xia never backed down from a challenge.
Unaware that he had already become the subject of an investigation by one of the city's most powerful guilds, Wei Heng was focused on his next objective. His financial plan was progressing, and his physical foundation was set. Now, it was time to gather his future pillars.
He opened a fresh document on his computer, the screen's glow reflecting in his unnaturally calm eyes. He began to type, creating a detailed dossier.
Target Profile: Gao Qiang.
Codename: Titan.
Age: 19.
Current Occupation: Part-time construction worker, night-shift security guard, weekend delivery driver.
Known Affiliations: Fuzhou City Orphanage No. 3 (former resident, current benefactor).
Original Timeline Awakening: Latent S-Rank Physical Enhancer.
Original Timeline Fate: Deceased. Died defending the orphanage from an Abyssal Crawler swarm during the 'First Outbreak' event.
Date of death: three weeks from today.
Wei Heng paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He remembered Gao Qiang from his first life. A big, clumsy man with a heart of gold, who fought with reckless abandon and died a hero's death that no one but the children he saved ever remembered.
'A tragic, wasted potential,' Wei Heng thought, a cold resolve settling in his heart. 'This time, your loyalty will be forged in my service. You will not die protecting a single building. You will become a shield for all of humanity.'
He closed the file and stood up, stretching his newly refined body. The first piece of his own guild, his own force, was about to be put into place. It was time to go and observe his future Titan.