The next morning, Lee Seong-jun awoke early, a habit carved into him from years of harsh survival. The house was quiet, his family already gone for work. A simple note on the refrigerator revealed their care—food left for him, money for lunch, and a reminder of the burdens they still carried.
Reading it, Seong-jun's resolve burned brighter. He had sworn the night before: this time, he would live happily with his family. But for such a dream to take shape, one thing was needed above all—wealth. Happiness could not be secured on an empty table or with rent unpaid.
Fortunately, Earth was in an age of upheaval. With the emergence of Hunters—Awakened and Returned alike—even the weakest could climb in status if they had power. For those at the top, wealth flowed like rivers. Seong-jun, once a Demon God of the Heavenly Continent, knew he was destined to rise again. His only regret was how slowly wealth would accumulate in his current weakened state.
Hunters were ranked from the lowest F-class to the mythical SSS-class, their strength measured by the system window that every awakened could summon. His current body had fallen to the lowest rank, yet he felt no despair. With his memories of cultivation and battle, he knew exactly how to climb back up.
Curious, he summoned his own status window for the first time since returning. A green hologram appeared before him:
Level 6. Strength: 5. Agility: 4. Stamina: 5. Blood: 5.
A single activation skill gleamed—S-class Blood Shadow Asura, marked at 1 star.
The increase was modest, yet promising. Bonus points glimmered at the edge of the display. Unlike cultivation realms of the past, where progress came from years of meditation or consuming rare elixirs, this strange Earth system allowed immediate growth. Skeptical but intrigued, Seong-jun poured all five points into his Blood stat.
In an instant, energy surged through his meridians. The power of blood, once the foundation of his demonic martial path, now pulsed twice as strong. His body swelled with vitality, and for the first time, he truly admired the potential of this new world's system. It was a foundation for growth unlike anything he had seen before.
Still, he knew shortcuts could not replace discipline. Even with this strange gift, martial cultivation was built on pain, endurance, and repetition. Smiling faintly, he began training at once.
From dawn until dusk, he pushed his frail body to its limit—running endlessly in the park, forcing his muscles through crude equipment, and consuming the cheapest food and supplements his family could afford. Each ache, each drop of sweat, was welcomed. For cultivators of the Heavenly Continent, pain had always been the soil where strength took root.
A week passed. His effort bore fruit. The system acknowledged his struggle, granting increases in Strength, Agility, and Stamina. His once-weak body now moved with recovered sharpness. Yet Seong-jun did not stop. To him, this was only the beginning.
He pressed forward, running until his lungs burned and his heart thundered like a war drum. Sweat poured down like rain, soaking his body. Muscles screamed, threatening collapse, but he refused to yield. With each step, he drew closer to a threshold he longed to cross.
At last, as his blood circulated violently, something stirred deep within. His eyes flickered with a strange light—the sign of power awakening, the hint of a path greater than before.
Seong-jun's cultivation was no longer just about returning to what he once was. It was about surpassing it, fusing martial asceticism with this new world's system. The Path of Blood and Steel had begun.