Chapter 3: A Hundred Ways to Die for Pocket Change
Long Tianchen stared at the twisted corpse on the cobblestones, the old him, still lying there with its broken neck and half-lidded eyes like it was waiting for a mortician that would never come.
He crouched low, knees popping, heart drumming against his ribs. He poked the cold cheek with one finger, flinched, then jabbed again, harder this time.
Nothing. The skin stayed cold.
His face twitched. "So… every time I die, a fresh copy of me pops up, but the old body just… stays behind? Like a save file someone forgot to delete?"
He rubbed his chin, eyes lighting up with a greedy spark. "Wait. If everything on the old body stays, then doesn't that mean"
He rifled through the corpse's ragged pockets. A few copper coins clinked against his palm. His new body's pocket had the exact same coins.
"…So it duplicates."
He froze. Then slowly, so slowly, a grin stretched across his face until his cheeks hurt.
"System… I love you."
He staggered back, laughing. "You mean I can copy anything? Money, materials, weapons? As long as I'm willing to croak a few hundred times, I can literally print cash! Forget cultivation. Forget destiny. I'm about to become the world's first corpse-based billionaire!"
The fat cat tilted its head like it was watching a lunatic invent fire.
Tianchen's grin cracked wider. "Alright. First pot of gold… by dying. Who knew suicide was the fastest road to financial freedom?"
Of course, he had to test it.
He ran at the nearest wall. Headfirst.
Crunch.
---
[Death Evaluation: F-Rank]
[Reward: 0 Skill Points]
[Other Reward: Strength has increased]
[Current Skill Points: 1]
---
He gasped back to life in the same alley, sprawled next to corpse number two. His forehead throbbed, though it was already healed. His old corpse's skull was split open like a cracked melon.
Tianchen rubbed his temples. "…System, if you're going to make me die, at least make it stylish. F-Rank? For that performance? I went full demolition derby!"
He glanced around. His coins had doubled.
"…Worth it."
A cart barreled down the street, horse hooves pounding. A kid tripped in the road.
Tianchen's instincts kicked in. "Oh great, here comes the part where I die."
He dove, shoved the child aside, and embraced the horse's chest like an old lover.
Snap. Silence.
---
[Death Evaluation: F-Rank]
[Reward: 0 Skill Points]
[Other Reward: Strength has increased]
[Current Skill Points: 1]
---
He coughed back to life on the curb. The kid bawled, pointing at the street where corpse number three lay, still hugging the horse's hooves.
The horse screamed like it had seen a ghost. Technically, it had.
Tianchen groaned. "Saved a life. Got flattened. Still F-Rank. System, you've got the grading standards of a toxic professor."
He begged a bakery for scraps, scarfed down loaf after loaf until his stomach ballooned. His throat strained, his chest heaved, and he keeled over mid-bite, crumbs spilling from his mouth.
---
[Death Evaluation: F-Rank]
[Reward: 0 Skill Points]
[Other Reward: Strength has increased]
[Current Skill Points: 1]
---
He woke up beside corpse number four, its belly grotesquely swollen. Bread still poked from its mouth.
Tianchen gagged. "This… this is not how I imagined feasting in another world. Why does every path to wealth involve me embarrassing myself posthumously?"
The baker screamed when he saw two beggar corpses piled at his doorstep.
Tianchen limped away.
The week became a circus of self-destruction.
He climbed a tree and let go. Thud.
He picked fights with drunk mercenaries. Crunch.
He "accidentally" tripped in front of a noble's carriage. Splat.
He inhaled soup so fast he choked on a fish bone. Gurgle.
He even tried drowning himself in a fountain, only to be fished out by passing guards who muttered, "Beggar kids these days got no hobbies."
Each death stacked a new body on the growing pile. Each revival left him panting, skin tingling with faint upgrades.
And each time, the system slapped him with the same mocking evaluation.
---
[Death Evaluation: F-Rank]
[Reward: 0 Skill Points]
[Other Reward: Strength has increased]
[Current Skill Points: 1]
---
Tianchen buried his face in his palms. "Three hard-mode deaths, each more dramatic than the last… and still F? What do you want from me, system? A Broadway performance?!"
That's when the next notification hit him like cold water.
[Revivals within 7 days: 1 remaining]
[Revival Counter Resets Weekly]
Tianchen froze. His breath caught in his throat.
"…Wait. There's a limit?"
He read it again. His eyes twitched.
"So… if I burn through all my revivals in one week, and then I die again… I'm done? Game over? Permanent log-out?"
His stomach dropped into his shoes.
"…So this isn't infinite immortality. This is a subscription plan."
The fat cat licked its paw again.
Tianchen clutched his head, rocking back and forth.
"Five lives. Five. I wasted them on stupid experiments, and what if a real fight comes, I'm toast. Toast with extra butter. Toast that gets eaten by a rat. Toast that doesn't even get remembered!"
His eyes narrowed, a flicker of resolve sliding beneath the panic.
"…But if I play it right, that's five chances. Five shots at pushing beyond human limits. Five chances to turn myself from alley trash into something this world has never seen."
His hand trembled as he whispered, almost like a confession:
"If I die after using them all… it's like losing my account in this world."
Then suddenly a brilliant plan came to his mind.