Carrying a satchel and wearing an oversized blue hoodie—although, to be fair, almost everything looked oversized on me—I was planning to take a bus to my aunt's house when I was stopped by the stove installation guy.
"Are you going out to find a job?" he asked in a friendly manner.
I raised an eyebrow and replied politely, "Yeah. I'm heading to work now."
The man looked genuinely surprised, almost stunned. "Really? You already got one? Damn! I'm too late. I was thinking of offering you a job. It pays really well too."
"Really? How much?" I asked, pretending to go along with it. My instincts were already telling me this guy reeked of ulterior motives.
He grinned and pulled out a stack of cash—probably around five thousand dollars. "See this? I made this in a week."
"Wow!" I gasped like a wide-eyed kid, full of admiration. That seemed to stroke his ego just right, and he grinned even wider.
"Well, if you want, maybe I can take you to the boss," he said. "You kinda look like a brother of mine, so I'm offering you a once-in-a-lifetime chance here."
This was literally our second time meeting. He was way too eager with the invitation.
He kept going on and on about this so-called boss. I beamed up at his words, but underneath, I was barely holding back my disdain.
In my head, I figured it was either some multi-level marketing scam or—more likely—drug dealing. Especially after I noticed a faint powdery stain on his black shirt. That tipped my suspicion heavily toward the latter.
He handed me a number and told me to call it after I got back from "work," or if I ever decided to join them. I took it, nodding like I was seriously considering it.
"Well, my cash reserve is running low," I muttered to myself after he left.
"Spent over seven grand last month. I've only got forty-three thousand left to last me the next two years. Might as well go do the usual."
And by that, I meant taking money from bad guys.
In my time as an assassin, I'd occasionally done some Robin Hood-type work—stealing from the rich, the corrupt, the monsters in human skin. I did the same thing back in the world of witches and succubi… though back then, I just kept the riches for myself.
It was easier than starting over with a clean slate. Even now, I'd just blackmailed my dad for some money. As I didn't know how much time I had left, it would've been stupid not to.
If I was going to die anyway, I'd rather live comfortably for a short while. Even with that mindset, though, there was a small glimmer of hope this time.
Since the goddess was already caught, I hoped the other god would actually do something and not let me die again before I turned eighteen. Only time would tell.
I wonder how much cash the drug lord's sitting on.
If he can hand out five grand to underlings, I could get a lot by raiding him, right? It's not like he can go to the cops and report it, I thought with a smirk as I got on the bus.
Then sighed as it came to a dead stop in traffic.
I should probably grow up soon and get my driver's license.
I was already sixteen, technically old enough. But at just 144 cm tall, it felt like a stretch. I figured I'd just wait six more months. Hopefully by then I'd hit 160 or 165 cm.
I had to change buses three times to get from South Pasadena to West Hollywood. Maybe next time, I'd just take a cab—if there's even a next time.
My aunt lived in an ordinary three-bedroom house with a white picket fence and a garden beside it.
However, as I stood in front of the door, my senses went on full alert. The vile energy I had sensed in those cookies before—here, it was a hundredfold stronger.
"Damn… I don't think I can handle this sort of thing yet," I muttered with a heavy sigh, turning to leave—just as the door opened.
My aunt—well, more like my future employer—stood there with a bright smile.
"Oh! Owen! Why didn't you ring the bell? I've been waiting for you all morning!" she said gleefully.
After the initial greeting, I entered the house with a heavy heart. But to my confusion, although there was a strong remnant of vile energy, there was nothing inside the house.
"Hmm?" I pretended to go to the bathroom and checked on every room in the house stealthily, but there was nothing suspicious.
"Are you living here with only your husband?" I asked Jessica as we discussed the children's book and I was sketching some landscape to show her.
I wouldn't make the real illustrations yet without signing a contract and her rewriting the book, so the discussion was mainly focused on the excerpts and the illustrations genres.
She nodded, "Yeah."
"Is there no one else who stays here? Or visit here a lot?" I asked again, casually, like I was forced to make conversation.
"Are you trying to see if I have a daughter? Or a niece?" She became gossipy instead of answering the question.
I ignored her and slowly placed a few cleansing talismans around the living room. The vile energy was too thick for me to get comfortable in the house. I placed the talisman strategically without even moving from the chair.
Taoist had some abilities to control the talisman with their energy to a certain extent. The talisman flew out of my satchel which was hung on my chair and stuck itself to the wall.
Without Jessica realizing it, I had completed an array of protection and a trap in case the thing appeared. With enough prep, maybe I would be able to subdue it, or just run away if I couldn't.
However, even until 5 in the evening, nothing happened. It was time for me to go back home.
As I was discussing things with my aunt, I noticed some things. The energy, it's interfering with her cognitive ability. Basically, she became dumber and irrational.
I tested her by saying I want a 70-30 split for the profit of the book, with me being the 70. And she freaking agreed with me.
She said she will bring the contract tomorrow. She will ask her husband to print out the contract for her and didn't even try to get a lawyer involved. Mind you, I only met this woman yesterday.
"Fuck… This…. Fuck…" I cursed out loud as I remembered the evil energy affecting her.
"If it wasn't for that promise…" I muttered as I walked out of the house again after putting down all of my stuff.
"I need to find a spirit grass, a millennium ginseng, or anything— I need to have something with at least 10 years of energy to stand a chance…"
It was hard to find the spirit grass as it would only grow in the area underneath direct moonlight and there couldn't be any people around.
The spirit grass was an important medium for me to craft some internal energy pills. I really needed it.
"Or I can awaken my esper ability. I know the formula for the esper potion, and I know how to stimulate my brain with internal energy so that the awakening chances will be greater. But where do I find the ingredients?"
Esper Serum Core Ingredients:
DMSO (Dimethyl sulfoxide): Enhances cellular absorption
Myelin Repair Peptide: Supports rapid brain rewiring
Recombinant Neural Stem Factors (r-NSF): Mimics embryonic plasticity
Neuro-adaptive Glial Serum: Prevents synaptic overload during awakening
Mental Threshold Stimulants: Prepares the consciousness
Psilocybin Microdose: Temporarily dissolves ego barriers (stabilizes traumatic awakenings)
Resveratrol: Real substance from red grapes, boosts brain oxygenation
Ground Electrocrystal (Brazil): Rare, quartz doped with piezoelectric metals; used in ritual circuits
That was the basics of the esper serum. I needed all of that to awaken myself.
In the intergalactic empire, only humans were allowed to use the Esper Serum to awaken. Clones like me didn't have that privilege. In fact, the main reason I was dissected in one of my past lives was precisely to study the mechanics of esper awakening.
Internal energy—or Dark Matter, as it was known in the empire—was a powerful stimulant for triggering esper awakenings. Some Taoist cultivators had awakened abilities like telekinesis or energy manipulation, so it wasn't exactly unheard of.
In my current state, though, attempting an awakening could go two ways: either it would kill me… or I'd end up with an ability that couldn't rely on internal energy as storage, rendering my cultivation nearly useless.
Espers drew strength from their minds—from focus, pain tolerance, and mental resilience. If I awakened a decent ability, it would be a shortcut, a huge leap forward. But if I got saddled with some random or garbage-tier power, I'd be screwed either way.
I ventured deep into the woods, far off the beaten trails, searching for Spirit Grass. Along the way, a pack of coyotes emerged from the underbrush, growling low and circling me like I was just another lost hiker waiting to be eaten.
"Spirit beast core would work too," I muttered under my breath. "But there's no way anything like that lives around here. Without a ley line, this place is dead land."
Around 5 a.m., after hours of searching, I finally found it: Spirit Grass, nestled in a secluded glade beneath the moonlight. Not far from it, I stumbled upon something even more surprising.
"A Spirit Flower?" I blinked, crouching beside the pale-blue sage bloom. My fingers hovered over it as I sensed the gentle spiritual energy radiating from its petals.
"This is a great find," I murmured. "Though honestly… the difficulty spike in finding this stuff is insane. When I was a Princess Consort, these grew like weeds around the palace gardens. Now? I'm lucky if I find even one."
It took me nearly 45 minutes to trek back out of the forest. The sun had already risen, casting gold light through the canopy. I was covered in dirt and scratches, but satisfied. Almost.
Before heading home to shower and patch myself up, I made a stop at the local Chinese herb shop. I did find something there.
"Hey, do you have the money or not!?" the old Chinese shopkeeper barked as I pointed at the ginseng laid out on his display table.
"Five hundred bucks for this?" I raised a brow. For a ginseng with less than eight years of energy in it? You've got to be shitting me.
He squinted at me, trying to play the expert. "That there's premium mountain-grown Korean red ginseng, boy. You know what that means? Pure potency. It's worth double, even triple that in the right market."
That shriveled-looking ginseng, curled up like it was hugging itself to survive a cold winter? No way in hell it was worth 500 bucks.
The shopkeeper had no idea I could sense the exact spiritual energy inside the root—less than eight years' worth, and not particularly refined at that. But it was something. A stepping stone.
He was clearly trying to rip me off—probably thought I was some clueless teenager flashing fake confidence and daddy's money.
I sighed and gave him a deadpan look. "I'll give you twenty for it."
"Twenty?! That's too low! Seventy!"
Now he was just insulting both of us.
"Forty," I countered, still calm.
"Fifty! And I'll even throw something extra." He slapped down a Chinese finger trap on the table like it was some divine treasure. A fifty-cent novelty toy.
"…Deal," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. Then I remembered—of course—I didn't have any cash on me.
"Are you kidding me?! After all that haggling, you're telling me you don't even have the money?" the shopkeeper exploded.
"I have money. My place is nearby. Give me ten minutes. I'll be back."
And I was. I came back in exactly ten minutes—not a second longer.
But what I returned to? That pissed me off.
The old man was trying to pawn my ginseng off to another customer.
"It's a Korean premium! For someone like you, it'll boost your energy, your longevity—you'll look young for your age!" he said with oily charm, pitching to a gullible-looking man with slicked-back hair and big sunglasses.
"Really?" The guy blinked, easily hooked. "How much?"
"Not much at all! Just a thousand bucks!" The old man grinned, already imagining the cash.
"Oh, that's actually pretty cheap," the man said, nodding. "I'll take it."
"Hold it right there," I said, stepping forward.
The old man's head snapped toward me, face paling like he'd seen a ghost. "GO AWAY! You're disrupting my business!" he barked. Then, in a desperate move, he leapt from his stool and lunged at me.
Except—he didn't make it.
His body froze mid-air, arms outstretched, face twisted in confusion and dawning fear.
I didn't move. I just looked at him and calmly spoke in perfect Chinese.
"Nǐ zhè tiáo lǎo shé… wǒ bù jièyì nǐ xiǎng zhuàn yīdiǎn qián. Dàn nǐ zhēn de yào piàn wǒ, hái xiǎng bǎ wǒ gǎn chūqù? Nǐ bú yào huó le ma?"
["You old snake... I don't mind you trying to make a profit. But are you seriously trying to cheat me and throw me out? Do you have no regard for your life?"]
Sweat beaded across his forehead. He was locked mid-crouch, trembling as if gravity had betrayed him.
"Nǐ xìnghǎo jīntiān yǒu gèrén zài chǎng."
["You're lucky there's a witness today."]
"Bùrán, nǐ yǐjīng sǐ zài zhè lǐ le."
["Otherwise, you'd already be dead."]
Then I released the paralysis. The moment I did, he collapsed to the floor with a yell, limbs twitching as if he'd just escaped death.
He scurried back like a rat, shouting,"Guǐ! Yāoguài! Jiù mìng a!" ["Demon! Monster! Help!"]
"Hey, what the hell's going on?" the actor—the guy with the sunglasses—took a startled step back.
I turned to him. "The old man agreed to sell me the ginseng for fifty bucks. But he decided to sell it out from under me the moment I left to get the money."
The man blinked, eyes darting between me and the still-shaking shopkeeper.
Then the old man suddenly shouted, "Ralph! Ralph Macchio! You're the Karate Kid! Kick him! Use the crane kick! Kick the demon!"
My head turned slowly. "…Wait, what?"
Ralph looked incredibly awkward now, rubbing the back of his neck like he wanted to disappear.
"Uhh, I am Ralph M– Macchio, yeah. But I'm not—like—that was acting. I don't actually crane kick people in real life." He pulled off his sunglasses, revealing the surprisingly young-looking face underneath.
"Seriously?" I squinted. "You're the original Karate Kid?"
"Yeah." He gave a sheepish chuckle. "I was just in the area. Thought I'd check this place out. Honestly, I just wanted to look around…"
"Sorry about the scene," I said, grabbing the ginseng off the counter. "This was already mine. Paid for. I need it today." I crumpled the fifty-dollar bill and tossed it onto the table without looking back.
"Wait," Ralph said, stepping forward. "How about this—I'll give you a thousand bucks. Just let me buy the ginseng. I'm dealing with some… energy issues. Could really use something like that."
I shook my head. "Sorry. I get it. But I need it now. Or else someone might die."
He paused. The weight of my words clearly landed. "…That serious, huh?"
"Yeah."
He gave it a moment. Then sighed and raised his hands. "Alright, kid. Fair enough. You got there first."
"Appreciate it." I nodded once.
The old man was still on the ground, mumbling "guǐ… yāoguài…" under his breath.
I gave him a faint, devilish smirk. "I'll leave now. But I live nearby, so I will come again to search for more herbs. Don't pull that kind of shit again, okay?"
He nodded so fast he could've snapped his neck.
As I turned to leave, I looked at Ralph again. Something about his energy stuck with me. I activated my senses. "Hmm…"
"You said you're dealing with energy problems?" I asked.
He winced. "Yeah–yeah. I mean, kids probably don't get it, but adults do. It's—well, not really something I wanna talk to a kid about." He blushed slightly.
So it was a problem in the sack.
I gave him a flat look. "That's too bad. Because I kinda know what's messing you up."
His eyes widened. "Wait—really? Can you see, like, a ghost or something?! Are you an exorcist?"
I stared at him, deadpan. "You've got way too much imagination, Ralph Macchio. No. It's not ghosts. It's you."
"…Me?"
"You've been eating this kind of stuff too often, right? Herbs, supplements, weird roots old men swear by?"
He nodded slowly, scratching his cheek in embarrassment. It showed how gullible he was.
I sighed. "You don't have less energy. You've got too much. And it's clashing inside you. Fire qi, yin imbalance, unstable yang—your system's overloaded. You're not drained—you're overstuffed."
He blinked. "…That's a thing?"
"Yes. It'll take a year, maybe two, to detox. If you stop cramming more crap into your body. Give it time to process everything."
He looked stunned. "That… actually makes sense. You serious?"
"Dead serious," I said. "Lay off the root cocktails. Let your organs breathe."
"…Damn. That explains a lot." He looked down at his own body, genuinely unsure of what to do with himself.
I shrugged and turned to the door.
But then he grabbed my shoulder. "Wait! Wait a sec—two years?! I need to wait two years?! Can't it be quicker?!"
I sighed again, almost cutting his hand off on reflex. "There is another way to detox. But you can't do it."
"Please! I'll pay you! My wife and I are in a really rough patch. We could break up if I don't solve this soon," he pleaded, borderline panicked.
"Fuck…" I muttered under my breath. "Fine. Give me a pen and paper. Come to my place tomorrow and bring all the ingredients on this list. I'll help you flush the energy out. But you have to pay me."
"Deal!" he agreed instantly.
I scribbled down a short list of herbs for a medicinal bath—mostly basic ones like mugwort, peony root, dried licorice bark, plus one or two rarer tonics he'd probably have to special order. Then I left the shop. The shopkeeper was nowhere to be found while I was writing.
I called Jessica to update her, telling her I'd be coming by at night instead of morning. Morning visits had proven useless so far. Nothing happened in the daylight.
Night would be better for my investigation. She even offered to let me stay the night.
That woman… her brain was really scrambled.
I was sixteen—and looked twelve. She could get arrested.
"Ugh… This is all your fault for making me make that promise, Isabelle," I muttered bitterly, biting into the dried ginseng while preparing the spirit flower and spirit grass for pill refinement.
It wasn't the best setup, but I had to make it work.
I combined them, refining the concoction slowly while sitting cross-legged in my small apartment.
The ginseng held maybe eight years' worth of spiritual energy. The spirit flower and spirit grass added another year or two each, and more importantly, they were especially effective in opening up the meridians.
If I focused, I could probably absorb seventy percent of that energy—not perfect, but more than enough to move forward.
The process was excruciating. I was basically raw-dogging the cultivation path—no auxiliary pill, no supportive alchemy, nothing but sheer willpower and internal energy. Every breath felt like fire in my lungs. My muscles trembled and spasmed from the strain, rejecting the influx of qi like poison.
But I endured.
Twelve hours passed.
Black blood oozed from my pores, thick and viscous, as I finally pushed past the invisible barrier—
Foundation Building: Stage Two.
My bones felt lighter. My senses sharper. The internal river of energy surged through me, violent but steady.
I wiped the blood from my face and let out a shaky breath.
Isabelle.
She was the only reason I was doing this.
Back in my life as an assassin, living in the theater troupe, I'd accepted that trying to change anything was pointless. I figured I was going to die anyway. Why fight it?
But then came Isabelle.
A red-haired young woman—strong, stubborn, with a fire in her and a certain naivete that shined like a guiding light for me . She made me promise something.
To never give up on living.
To help those who needed help.
She said that as long as I kept doing that, I wouldn't lose myself to the darkness again. I wouldn't fall into the endless spiral of futility that had consumed so many of my lives.
I wouldn't have cared about Jessica.
I wouldn't have bothered helping Ralph.
I wouldn't be trying at all.
But I made a promise. That's why I kept moving.
And the impact Isabelle left on me… even if I lived ten more lives, it still wouldn't be enough to repay it.
"Ugh… I really need to stabilize it…. Hmm, I'll do it in the cab." I said as I stood up and stretched my body before heading to the shower.
I ate a potato while the cab driver drove me to West Hollywood. It was an expensive ride. I considered paralysing the driver and let him think I was a ghost instead. But if he saw me again, that would be troublesome so I just paid him normally.
The evil energy in the house seemed to be bigger at night. I rang the doorbell and waited for Jessica to open the door.