Volume One: Qingfeng Town - The Dragon Rises from the Abyss
Chapter 1: Sister on the Brink of Death. The Worthless Brother. The Kill-to-Survive System Activates.
Tags: Underdog Reversal, Bully Retaliation
The wind at Blackwood Cliff sliced through Lin Che's flesh like a poison-laced file, siphoning his body heat and carrying the stench of rotten miasma. This was one of Qingyun City's three forbidden grounds—at its base lay a sealed battlefield of a thousand-year-old corpse demon. Every full moon, resentment condensed into tangible black mist that rose to corrode all living things. Legend had it a Golden Core ancestor once defied taboos to plunder treasures here under the full moon. The next day, he returned as a wandering mummy, screaming "Give me back my life!" at anyone in his path.
Tonight was the fifteenth day of the lunar month. The moonlight was as pale as the powder on a corpse's face.
Lin Che's right arm was shattered. Bone jutted from his elbow, the stark white splinter caked in blood and mud, leaving a gruesome trail across the rocks. He lay on the icy ground, his back pressed against jagged stone edges. Each shallow breath grated his broken ribs against his flesh, emitting a cringe-worthy "creak." The stench of blood mixed with miasma seared his lungs, as if thousands of red-hot needles were dancing across his lung tissue.
"Crack."
Zhao Kun's boot crushed Lin Che's chest, its sole still stained with dog dung from noon—now grinding into his collarbone. "Worthless trash like you isn't even fit to lick my boots."
The crimson glow in the bamboo basket was Lin Ying's only hope. Three days prior, she had fallen into a coma, and the physician had given a death sentence—unless they found this century-old Blood Spirit Herb. The rare plant grew deep in Blackwood Cliff, guarded by the Crimson-Scaled Python, a Qi Refining Stage monster. To harvest it, Lin Che had crawled along the cliff base for two days and nights, surviving on rotten leaves and murky water until he seized his chance.
"No…" Lin Che coughed up blood-tinged foam, mixed with half a shattered molar. For the first time in sixteen years, he felt the limit of this body. A sealed spirit vein—his meridians were as rigid as black iron, making even the most basic Qi absorption impossible. The original owner had endured sixteen years of mockery, chopping wood, gathering herbs, and raising his younger sister, never fighting back even as he died on a straw mat in a dilapidated temple.
But Lin Che was not the original owner.
His soul held the millennium-old memories of a Transcendence Stage powerhouse. The Qingyun Continent, Cangming Continent, the Nine Nether Demon Realm… He had once stood side by side with his Dao Companion Su Qingyao, slaying demon gods and annihilating three thousand sects. In the end, they chose to reincarnate and rebuild their cultivation, refusing to ascend to that gilded cage that imprisoned immortals.
He still remembered their last meeting. On the Reincarnation Platform, Su Qingyao wore a phoenix crown and wedding robes, her eyes crinkling with a smile: "Qingxuan, I'll come find you in this life. Cultivate hard—don't let those fox spirits ensnare you again."
What had he replied? "Don't worry. When I find you, I'll carve a path to you through the demon realms."
But reincarnation went awry. He had inhabited this useless body for sixteen years and seven months. And Su Qingyao… was nowhere to be found.
"Worthless?" He muttered, his eyes darkening to scarlet. "I've heard that for sixteen years and seven months. Today, I've had enough."
"Finish him." Zhao Kun waved at his bodyguard.
The bodyguard, Wang Hu, was a burly brute at Layer 1 of Body Tempering Realm, with a knife scar slashing from his brow to his jaw—an outlaw Zhao Kun had hired for five taels of silver. He picked up a hoe and strode toward the Blood Spirit Herb. "Kid, don't blame me. Blame your lousy luck. What Young Master Zhao wants, he gets."
The hoe's blade glinted in the moonlight, poised to sever the herb's roots—
Lin Che's pupils contracted sharply. Murderous intent boiled in his veins like molten lava.
Xiao Ying… I'm sorry…
Just as the hoe was about to strike, his chest erupted in searing pain.
That black jade pendant—a worthless amulet the original owner had found by the river three years ago—now burned like a branding iron, searing through his rough cloth shirt and leaving a charred mark on his sternum.
[Emergency Protocol Activated]
A cold mechanical voice exploded in his mind, laced with sardonic mockery:
[Host detected near death. Sister Lin Ying's remaining lifespan: 47 hours, 23 minutes, 17 seconds. Enemy seizing life-saving medicine. Current Killing Intent: 999/1000]
[System initializing… 10%… 30%… 60%… 100%!]
[Ding! Congratulations, Host Lin Che, on binding the "Soul-Devouring God-Slaying System"! Forged jointly by the Ten Great Slaughter Gods, specializing in 3,000 years of underdog comebacks—trusted by 100,000 losers with a 99.9% success rate!]
[Now, kill. Efficiency is key.]
A translucent panel erupted before his eyes, its blood-red text like congealed blood:
=== Soul-Devouring God-Slaying System ===
Host: Lin Che (Soul Form: Transcendence Stage Powerhouse · Qingxuan Dao Lord)
Status: Near Death (Right arm comminuted fracture, 300ml internal bleeding, 3 fractured ribs)
Killing Intent: 999/1000 (Maxed, about to overflow)
Bloodline Seal: Godslayer Spirit-Sealing Vein (Layer 1 · Spirit Suppression)
Inheritance Sequence: Bai Qi (God of Slaughter), Xiang Yu (Overlord), Lü Zhi (Poison Empress), Han Xin (Military Sage), Huo Qubing (Wolf Sealer), Jia Xu (Poison Strategist), Genghis Khan (Heavenly Hero), Huang Chao (Rebel Lord), Zhu Yuanzhang (Hongwu Emperor), Cao Cao (Tyrant)
Urgent Mission: Slay Zhao Kun and his two accomplices; secure the Century-Old Blood Spirit Herb
Mission Reward: Unlock Layer 1 Seal, Heal All Injuries, Awaken Bai Qi's Inheritance [God of Slaughter Domain · Ten Thousand Souls Devour]
System Note: Stop staring. Your sister is dying. Hesitate, and she's gone forever. There is no second chance—death is permanent.
Tidal waves of murderous intent surged from the depths of his soul—the wails of a million lost spirits, the brand of ten lifetimes of slaughter. Lin Che's eyes turned crimson, a blood-red lotus spinning slowly in his pupils.
The air froze. Literally. Wang Hu, a Body Tempering cultivator, found his spiritual energy stagnant, even breathing a struggle. Zhao Kun's plump face blanched instantly, a primal terror gripping his soul—as if a rabbit cornered by a tiger, fear etched into his very blood.
"Ghost… a ghost!" Wang Hu screamed, his pants soaking through. Yellow liquid dripped down his legs, pooling on the rocks and steaming in the cold air.