It was like waking from the deepest, darkest of dreams.
Zhang Tianyuan found himself lying on his back in the dry dirt.
A searing ball of fire hung in the brilliant blue sky above, mercilessly beating down with its light and heat.
He forced his splitting headache aside, turning his head just enough to see a massive American black poplar, its trunk half a meter wide, soaring seven or eight stories into the air. Further out, the landscape was a sparse collection of aspens, low-lying shrubs, and rolling, ochre-colored hills.
The thick, earthy smell filling his nostrils and the handful of dead leaves he'd clutched in his fist told him one thing with absolute certainty: he was in the middle of nowhere.
What the hell? Wasn't I on vacation at the five-star Wynn hotel in Las Vegas?
What about the blonde? Was it a honey trap?
A cascade of paranoid thoughts raced through Zhang Tianyuan's mind. As a mercenary, he had just wrapped up a major contract in Africa and had decided to blow off some steam with two of his teammates in Vegas.
One night in a luxury hotel, and somehow it had all gone to hell.
The worst part was, he had no idea how any of it had happened.
Just then, an immense flood of memories, not his own, erupted in his mind.
After what felt like an eternity, the torrent of information subsided. Zhang Tianyuan finally understood.
He had been transported to July 12th, 1880. He was in Frisco, a small mining town near the city of Denver, deep in the American Midwest.
His new identity was Henry Bruce, a twenty-year-old officer in the town's small police department.
That very afternoon, he had been part of a twenty-five-man posse led by Sheriff Bryan, chasing eight outlaws who had robbed the town's general store. About five miles out of town, in this very stretch of hills, they'd ridden straight into a massive ambush.
Henry had been one of the first to fall. A bullet had slammed squarely into his chest. The sheer impact had thrown him from his galloping horse, and the fall had snapped his neck, killing him instantly.
And then, Zhang Tianyuan, from the year 2024, had woken up in his place.
Henry—he—fumbled with the top two buttons of his blue police uniform. There, on the 18-karat gold case of a Patek Philippe pocket watch, was a deep, distinct dent. The bullet was gone, likely ricocheted into the sky.
He felt a surge of frustration. Even a miracle like this hadn't been enough to save the original Henry's life. If it had, he wouldn't be here.
The gold watch was an heirloom, a final gift from Henry's grandfather.
Shaking off the annoyance, Zhang Tianyuan pushed himself up into a sitting position.
A Winchester 1873 Lever-Action Rifle lay on the ground just three meters to his right.
Gritting his teeth against the searing pain in his chest, he forced his trembling legs under him and staggered over to retrieve it. The familiar weight of a reliable weapon in his hands brought a small measure of calm.
He glanced down at himself. A standard-issue, long-sleeved blue uniform shirt and black vest, a pair of high-heeled riding boots complete with spurs, and a gun belt at his waist.
Nestled in the holster was a Colt M1873 Single Action Army revolver.
The legendary "Peacemaker." The gun that settled arguments across the frontier. It even shared the same .44-40 Winchester cartridges as the rifle, a convenience loved by cowboys of the era, even if the rounds lacked the punch of the smokeless, pointed bullets of the future.
Crouching low, Henry moved cautiously forward. The last thing the original Henry's memories showed was Sheriff Bryan firing from the base of a hill in this direction.
He scanned the area. There, two hundred meters away, lay Sheriff Bryan, sprawled on a slope. Across from him, over a hundred meters further, were the bodies of three outlaws. Two looked as if they'd tumbled down from the top of the hill. None of them were moving.
Henry followed the winding path for another dozen meters, his heart pounding. Around a small bend, he found Henry's horse, a brown Quarter Horse, waiting patiently by the side of the road.
He jammed a boot in the stirrup and swung himself into the saddle, urging the horse into a gallop towards the Sheriff.
The scene was a massacre. Eleven of his fellow lawmen were scattered across the trail, all lifeless. Their horses wandered aimlessly nearby.
As he rounded another bend, he saw him: an outlaw in denim jeans and a wide-brimmed felt hat, slumped against the dirt bank.
A huge chunk of flesh was torn from where his neck met his shoulder, yet somehow, he was still alive, his ragged, low moans cutting through the silence.
Without a second thought, Henry raised the Winchester, took aim, and fired.
CRACK!
At such close range, the outlaw's head burst like a watermelon, sending a spray of red and white across the dirt. Henry was already several meters away, untouched by the grisly display.
Huh?
Suddenly, a progress bar lit up in the corner of his vision.
It must have been there all along, translucent and unnoticed until now. It was about five centimeters long, now glowing with about 10% of its length filled. Below it was a single, luminous grey pearl.
As his focus touched the bar and the pearl, a wave of understanding washed through his mind, explaining their function.
The bar was the Release Progress Bar. The grey pearl was a Level 1 Release Pearl.
For every person he personally "released" from life, he would gain one Release Pearl. After collecting ten Level 1 pearls, the bar would upgrade.
For now, the Level 1 pearl had a single function: to dispel minor negative status effects from his body.
Henry focused his thoughts on the pearl and mentally commanded: Use.
Instantly, a soft, grey light washed over him. A soothing warmth spread through his entire body, as if he were sinking into a hot spring.
The sensation vanished as quickly as it came, before his horse had even taken another ten steps, but the effects were undeniable. He felt as if he was back at his physical peak. The bone-deep ache in his chest and the jarring pain from the fall were completely gone.
Wait...
The pearl was still there, but its light had faded to a dull, empty grey.
When his mind touched it again, new information flowed: the empty husk of the pearl would now act as a shield. The next time a projectile was about to fatally strike him, the husk would shatter, silently deflecting the attack.
This defense worked against anything from thrown rocks and arrows to pistol rounds.
It was an extra life.
The chaos and fear in Henry's mind began to settle. At least Providence hadn't thrown him into this hell without a lifeline.
He passed two more dead outlaws, both with bullets in their foreheads, offering no chance to harvest more pearls.
Soon, he reached Sheriff Bryan's side. A massive wound gaped open in his chest and abdomen, and a dark pool of blood had soaked the ground beneath him. He was gone.
Henry dismounted, gently sliding his hands under the Sheriff's neck and shoulders to prop him up.
What?!
The moment he touched him, the progress bar in his vision instantly filled to 100%, and a new pearl materialized beneath it.
This one was a vibrant, living green, pulsing with an inexplicable, profound energy.
A second later, the bar faded back to its translucent state, now showing a sliver of light at 1%.
A transparent panel unfolded before his eyes.
Name: Henry Bruce (Zhang Tianyuan)
Level: 1
Health: 100%
Constitution: LV 1