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Chapter 1 - Shadow Slayer reincenaration

Artemis suddenly woke up.

His right hand instinctively slapped the cold ground, muscles tensed and ready to push his body upward even before his eyes had fully opened.

The air around him felt sharp with danger. Life and death hovered so close that a single breath could tip the balance.

I have to leave .. immediately.

That was the first thought that struck him the moment consciousness returned. It was no longer a thought but an instinct, sharpened and honed from years as an assassin.

He tried to rise, his body lifting slowly into the air, but then weakness struck. His arm faltered and refused to bear his weight. His body crashed back down to the ground with a smack-splash-thud.

A spike of shock ran through him. What is happening? His mind scrambled for answers.

Then he realized: he was lying in shallow water. The cold lapped at his skin, chilling him through. He forced his eyes open wider to take in his surroundings.

He was on a narrow beach beneath a towering cliff. The cliff's face was rough and jagged, stained with dark streaks of moss and weathered rock. The sand under him was damp and coarse, shifting slightly as the tide crept closer. A gray sky stretched above, heavy with low clouds. The salt-heavy breeze carried the cries of distant seabirds.

Where am I? How did I get here? He tried to remember ... wasn't I supposed to be in the middle of a fierce gunfight?

The memories he could reach for were a little disjointed, like fragments from another life.

Suddenly, all at once, it was as if a screen had been pulled open inside his mind. His life unfolded before him in a rush, faces, voices, fleeting joys, and buried regrets pouring into him with unstoppable force. Memories surged not gently, but like a river in flood, wild and relentless, carrying him through every moment he had ever lived.

Artemis's mind went back through the years.

He was an assassin by profession, and not just any assassin. From the moment he debuted, he had never failed to infiltrate any place or complete any mission. His success rate was unmatched, something none of his predecessors had achieved.

And because of that, Artemis rose swiftly to the top of the assassin rankings. The name Shadow Slayer became synonymous with deadly precision and silent death, feared among all underworld experts.

He also held the highest bounty placed on any head in the world. The reward for killing him was unmatched, but no one was capable of taking on the task. Not one could stand toe to toe with this legendary assassin, much less kill him.

At first, countless men were tempted by the bounty. Greed stirred in their hearts, lured by the promise of unimaginable riches. But as time passed, as body after body turned up cold, the truth became undeniable: taking on Shadow Slayer wasn't ambition but suicide.

Those who tried before had only ended up waking in hell.

A group of elite assassins (The Cobra Squad), famed for never failing their contracts, once accepted the job to kill Artemis (Shadow Slayer). Within just a single day, all of them were found dead, with no complete corpse remaining.

Since then, no one dared to accept what had become a suicide mission. Even when the reward was raised again and again, the challenge remained untouched.

Money meant nothing to those who were dead. Only the living could enjoy wealth, after all.

And so, the name Shadow Slayer became a name spoken only in whispers, a taboo in the underworld's bounty lists. Those who spoke of him did so in hushed tones, glancing over their shoulders as if even his shadow could appear to silence them.

Throughout the years, what Artemis hated most was injustice: the rich oppressing the poor, the strong crushing the weak. Officials who brutalized common people without mercy were his favorite targets.

Officials who twisted the law into a weapon of oppression, who bent rules to protect the powerful and exploit the powerless, they were the kind he loathed the most. Where no judge could punish them, where no law could bind them, Artemis would appear. For the common folk, he was both myth and avenger, and for the officials, he was a nightmare lurking in every shadow.

He had killed many such men without even asking for payment or mission orders.

That only made him more hated among those in power. They plotted endlessly to assassinate him. Conspiracies were drawn in secret chambers, alliances forged between enemies who shared only one goal: to end Shadow Slayer. Some hired mercenaries, others summoned killers from abroad, and still others set entire traps, spending fortunes just for the chance to bring him down. Yet, no matter how carefully planned, every attempt dissolved into blood. The more they tried, the more legendary Shadow Slayer became.

One day, word reached him of a syndicate trafficking young girls to Thailand. He decided to save them with his own hands.

He fought alone, cutting down more than a hundred criminals. He killed the entire syndicate and their notorious lord.

But it had been a trap.

One of the girls wasn't really a victim, but an assassin planted by the corrupt officials who had orchestrated this betrayal.

While Artemis was busy untying the girls, the girl assassin raised a pistol and fired. The first bullet tore through his back.

Artemis turned quickly, eyes searching hers. "Why… why are you doing this?" he asked, but before she could answer, two more bullets struck his chest.

Even though he was dying, his last thought was still calm, even proud.

I never imagined I would fall into a trap so absurdly. But I have lived well, right? Those corrupt officials, tyrants, and bullies I have killed number over a thousand. My life was worth it.

A man has but one life, grass but one spring, so if death comes then so be it.

He remembered the life he had led.

It was spectacular, unrestrained, and grand. He had no regrets.

Was there anyone else in this world who could live as I had? No one else who could taste such freedom.

Suddenly, the scene shattered as shouting broke the silence.

"Hey! Over here, he's not dead yet…" a man shouted, calling over his other two buddies.

Artemis's mind snapped back. He then realized he was not dead yet. The waves washing over his body reminded him he was still lying on the beach, sand soaked and cold against his skin. Then he slowly stood up.

Wait… why am I here? Wasn't I shot to death? This isn't a dream, is it? This isn't hell either.

Then suddenly, unfamiliar memories rushed in, sharp and vivid. He was shocked to see things he had never done but somehow remembered.

Oh shit! Am I inside someone else's body? Was I reincarnated? But how could my past life remain so clear? Did I really end up trapped inside another person's body?

Artemis had countless questions, but there was no one to answer him. He could only guess what happened.

Then the memories of how he ended up here flooded his mind.

He was Kazaf, sixteen years old. An orphan living with his uncle, who was a blacksmith. He had no memories of his parents at all. All his life, it had been just him and his uncle.

Even though he was already sixteen, he had yet to awaken his Cosmo. He still couldn't open his energy channels that transfer cosmic energy and the core which stores it, and hence he couldn't start cultivating.

Earlier, Kazaf had gone to the market to buy some ingredients his uncle had sent him for. On his way back, he saw three men kill an old man and steal all his money.

The kind-hearted Kazaf, driven by his sense of justice, chased after them, heart pounding, until he reached the edge of a cliff.

Then, unfortunately, while fighting them, he tripped and fell.

Did the boy die here? Is that how I ended up in this body?

But before Artemis could find the answer to the question he just asked himself, a heavy fist slammed into his face. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

A rough voice growled, "Hand over the money, brat, or you can just die."

The sound of hurried footsteps scraped against the sandy beach.

Two more men emerged from the shadows, their faces slick with sweat, hands clutching small but wickedly sharp knives. They spread out slowly, forming a half-circle around him like jackals closing in on prey.

One of them grinned, teeth yellowed.

"Just hand over the money, kid. Then we'll at least think of leaving you with an intact corpse."

Artemis's chest rose and fell in steady rhythm. He tasted iron in his mouth and felt the warm trickle of blood at the corner of his lips. With the back of his hand, he wiped it away slowly, deliberately, before lifting his head to meet their eyes.

His voice came low, almost conversational, yet cold enough to bite.

"Not bad… for a welcome gift." He took a deep breath, then exhaled while smiling , but it wasn't really a smile born of happiness. It was a wicked smile that could send shivers down anyone's spine.

"It looks like no matter where I go, nothing really changes. There will always be people who bring nothing to the table but destruction. I've killed thousands of men like you back home. Every single one of them deserved it, murderers, traffickers, men who preyed on the helpless. People who thought they could take without consequence.

Maybe God liked my work. Maybe that's why He gave me another chance to live. So I can keep doing what I do best…" His eyes narrowed to slits. "…killing bastards like you."

The three men exchanged uneasy glances.

"Is he insane?" one muttered to the others. "Did the fall crack his skull?"

Their leader's lip curled. "Enough of this bullshit. Let's just kill him and take the money. We're alone out here. No one will see. And even if they do…" His smirk deepened. "…we don't give a shit."

"Yeah, boss, let's just kil—"

He never got to finish the sentence.

Artemis's leg shot upward with a speed that defied reason, the heel of his boot connecting with the side of the man's head in a sickening crack. The body went limp instantly, dropping to the ground like a sack of wet grain. There was no groan, no twitch, just stillness. The man was dead before his brain could even register what had happened.

For a heartbeat, no one moved. The other two stared at their fallen comrade, disbelief etched on their faces.

Even Artemis himself was surprised. He hadn't thought this boy's body could possess such physical power. He couldn't awaken his Cosmo, but at least his physical strength was enough to kill a man with just a single kick.

"Jarvis…? Jarvis!" they shouted in unison, their voices breaking. Then, in the same breath ... rage. "Kill him!"

Their rage completely took over and extinguished their fear.

The first lunged forward, knife raised high for a killing blow aimed at Artemis's heart.

Artemis caught the man's wrist in mid-swing. He felt the tendons straining beneath his grip, then twisted sharply. The joint gave way with a loud snap.

The man screamed in agony. A straight punch to the nose sent blood spraying. Before his victim could regain his breath, a brutal kick to the crotch made him fold in on himself. One could hear the sound of something shattering.

The pain caused the latter to howl in agony as he hurriedly grabbed his crotch.

His entire face turned pale and perspiration beads fell from his forehead profusely as though rain. Only the sound of his pained exhalation could be heard.

Artemis drove another punch straight into his temple, and the man hit the ground.

The last thug charged with a roar, desperate to save his companion. But Artemis didn't even flinch. He stepped down hard on the head of the man on the ground with the heel of his boot. There was a sickening crunch, bone shattering under the weight. The body slumped, lifeless.

The last man hesitated, seeing two of his comrades already dead. But Artemis didn't. He kicked him in the belly and the man fell to the ground. Artemis bent over him and began punching. Once. Twice. Thrice… Each blow carried the weight of years of rage.... rage at men like these, who thought strength was a weapon for cruelty. His fists rose and fell, over and over, until the man stopped moving. Even then, Artemis kept going.

By the time he stopped, his breath was heavy, and blood, both theirs and his spattered his hands and clothes. His heart still thundered in his chest. He looked down at the ruined faces, at the stillness where there had been arrogance and cruelty moments ago.

He really hated men like this.

Men who hunted the weak.

Men who thought life could be traded for a handful of coins.

If God truly had given me another chance atlife… this, Artemis decided, is how am going to use it.

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