Chapter 2: Strength of a Dead Man
Long Tianchen lay in the alley, jaw tight, chest rising and falling like a drum. His fists clenched so hard the veins on his forearms bulged. His voice, hoarse but edged with disbelief, scraped out of him like broken glass.
"Don't try to trick me just because I'm high."
He turned his head slightly, half expecting someone to step out from the shadows with a hidden camera and yell prank show. But no—it was just him, the alley, and the round-bellied cat sitting on a crate like a retired mob boss.
"What's this about dying once and getting a strength boost?" he muttered. "Die and get stronger? Are you insane? The cost-benefit ratio is completely unfair!"
He slammed his fist against the wall.
Crack.
Stone chipped. Dust fell. A dent shaped like his knuckles sank into the hardened brick.
Tianchen froze.
His eyes widened. He rubbed his hand as if it belonged to someone else, flexing the fingers, touching the wall again to check if it was real.
A slow grin crept across his face. His anger evaporated faster than morning dew.
"This strength… this strength is incredible." He laughed, short and sharp, chest shaking. "System, you're actually somewhat useful. I take back half the insults. For now."
The glow in his eyes dimmed as he remembered the panel.
Back to the main issue.
"Skill points." His tone grew serious. "What do they do? How do I use them? Unlock martial arts? Buy lottery tickets? Exchange them for hotpot?"
Silence.
He waited.
Silence.
The system, that heartless parasite squatting inside his skull, gave no reply.
His grin cracked. His lip trembled. For a moment, he looked less like a reborn warrior and more like a kid who just realized Santa wasn't real.
"You—" He jabbed a finger at the air. "You're messing with me, aren't you? Making me die is one thing, but this? This system doesn't even have a newbie guide? Not even a tutorial? No Welcome, Adventurer speech? Nothing?!"
The cat yawned.
Tianchen buried his face in his hands. His laugh turned brittle, teetering on the edge of a sob.
"Fine. Fine! I'll just figure it out myself."
---
He stretched his arms. His body felt strange, as if someone had replaced his bones with tempered steel. He tested it further—jumped once. His feet left the ground higher than expected, almost scraping a loose tile before landing with a thud that echoed through the alley.
A rat darted out of a crate, squeaking in outrage. Tianchen bent down, snatched the rodent mid-sprint, and froze.
The rat squirmed in his grip, tiny claws scratching his skin. But his hand didn't budge. He held it as easily as he might hold a toy. His new strength hummed beneath the surface, raw and alive.
He stared at the rat, nose wrinkling.
"…Sorry, bro." He set it down gently. "Not testing my bite strength on you."
The rat scurried away, relieved.
Tianchen chuckled. "I used to need three tries to open a stubborn soda can. Now I'm the soda can. I'm a young hungry and weak begar child but as strong as healthy child, no that's not right. I'm stronger"
---
He practiced punches, slamming the air with crisp jabs. The sound of his fists cutting wind surprised even him. The alley vibrated when he hit the wall again, knocking loose chunks of stone. His bare knuckles should've bled, but the skin barely reddened.
He spun, kicked, nearly fell over because his balance hadn't caught up to his power. His foot left a crack in the cobblestone.
Panting, he wiped sweat from his brow.
"Okay, okay… this is real. Death equals upgrade." His grin twisted bitter. "But why me? Why this body? A beggar? With flea colonies as roommates?!"
He stomped toward a cracked pot in the corner and peered at his reflection. The boy in the water's shimmer had gaunt cheeks, dirt streaks, hair that hung in greasy knots. His eyes, though, glowed with a sharp light.
"Handsome, sure, but not the K-drama lead type yet. More like… starving villain who monologues too long."
The silence stretched, heavy. His smile faltered.
"…Was this kid's last meal really cat butt?"
The thought alone made him want to throw up.
---
He flopped back against the wall, glaring into the air.
"System. If you can hear me, blink twice. No? Okay. What about a beep? A tutorial menu? A hologram maid? Come on. Everyone else gets a GPS and I'm stuck with… what? A suicide-based fitness app?!"
Nothing.
His shoulders slumped. His throat tightened.
He laughed again, but this time the laugh bent into something close to despair.
"If you wanted me dead, you could've just left me with the noodles. At least that was honorable. Dying because of carbs beats dying because of a cat's backside!"
---
He rubbed his temples. His brain throbbed from the mix of adrenaline, hunger, and confusion.
A shuffle of feet reached his ears. The sound of shoes against cobblestones. Someone was walking past the mouth of the alley, muttering curses.
"…Damn street's filthy… I almost stepped on—"
The man's words froze mid-sentence.
"What the…? A dead beggar? A corpse? Out of nowhere?"
Tianchen's heart skipped.
He turned slowly, eyes wide, blood draining from his face.
There, sprawled in the dirt only a few feet away, lay another body.
His body.
The same gaunt face, the same rags, the same broken neck twisted at a grotesque angle.
It was him.
The boy who died under the cat.
Still lying there.
Long Tianchen's chest clenched, his breath shallow, the edges of reality threatening to unravel.
His voice came out as a whisper, cracked with fear and awe.
"…My original body's still there."
His eyes locked on the lifeless corpse.