Wayne Tower's Presidential Suite painted a scene of utter devastation and carnage. Jagged shards of a crystal chandelier scattered across the floor, glinting like diamonds in the flickering emergency lights.
"D-don't kill me! Weaver. You'll regret this!"
Micheal Wayne, a famous billionaire and philanthropist, scrambled back, his fingertips clawing at the expensive carpet. His body left behind bloody trails, blood dripping like a river from wounds severe enough to kill him in minutes if left unchecked.
Weaver stood before him, a shadow in a sharp black suit, like a grim reaper sent from hell. His deep brown eyes shone through the visors of the Spider Mask he always wore.
A symbol of his identity.
Weaver flipped a dagger between his knuckles. "Don't look at me, Wayne. Your daughter signed the check. I'm just the delivery boy."
"What are you saying?"
Weaver was going to say something when he got a call. It was an emergency phone, so the call was definitely from his Boss. Raising an eyebrow, he accepted the call and turned on the speaker.
[Micheal Wayne?]
"Bleeding out," Weaver said, not breaking eye contact with the dying man.
[Good. I wanted to hear his last breath. And yours.]
Weaver went still. The playful spin of his dagger stopped mid-air. Then, he chuckled dryly and asked, "So, you're really gonna pull the trigger?"
[You expected it, huh? Well, it doesn't matter. You're a thorn to me now.]
"Hahah!!" Micheal let out a mad laugh, coughing blood in between. "You'll die with me, fucker! Abandoned and killed by your own people!"
Weaver stared at him for a moment before taking out a pistol.
Bang.
One shot, and a billionaire died just like that.
Looking at his corpse, Weaver shook his head. "No way we're dying together."
He focused back on the call and said, standing up, "Yo, so where were we? Ah yeah, you're disposing of me. How do you plan to do that, though? I'm curious!"
[Carefree even in death. This creepy, inhumane nature of yours made me dispose of you.]
Weaver crossed the shattered glass fragments and went to stand before the glass window connecting the ceiling to the floor. The whole bustling metropolis was visible from there.
"He who fights with the sword dies by it, bastard!" Weaver sneered in disdain. "But cowards like you won't understand it."
[Keep that philosophy in your ass and die. In one minute, the whole Wayne Tower will blow up, and every single person there will die alongside you.]
"Woah, woah! We're really similar, aren't we?" Weaver laughed upon hearing that, finding it way too amusing.
[...what are you talking about?]
"You're in your dear palace, aren't you? All guarded from every side?"
[No, I'm in—]
"You don't need to lie," Weaver interrupted. "You taught me well, old man. So I kept my eyes on you too. Every second of every day."
[What did you do, Weaver? Tell me!!]
"Oh, nothing much!" Weaver smiled behind the mask and took out a cylindrical remote. "Just filled your entire palace with bombs."
[You bastard!!]
"Thanks for raising me up, old man," Weaver said, pressing the trigger. "See you on the other side."
[No—]
A deafening noise came from the phone before the call was abruptly cut. Weaver threw the phone away into the pool of blood on the floor and looked over the city.
Spreading his arms, he chuckled and uttered his last words.
"Hell's gonna be crowded tonight."
Then the floor turned into light.
...
"Agh—! Fuck!"
Weaver shot upright, his head pounding like it was being split open. 'That bastard… blew up the whole damn building.'
As he massaged his head, he suddenly realised his situation and thought, 'Wait! The bomb blasted me into pieces for sure, so how am I alive?'
He looked around slowly. The interior of a small wooden hut came into his view. Aside from the basic necessities like a flat wooden bed and tables, the hut was mostly empty.
'Someone actually lived here?'
He looked down at his own body and rolled his eyes in exasperation. 'Fuck no! Did I get transmigrated?'
What he saw were pale hands covered in bandages and a taller, more muscular body frame. This definitely didn't belong to him, considering he had always preferred agility over a buffed-up muscular body.
'It's not that bad though.'
Just then, a terrible pain assaulted his mind, worsening the headache as he clutched his head tightly and tried to endure the intrusion of foreign memories.
After a while, the pain stopped as he lay there in his own sweat, his chest heaving up and down. Taking a few moments to breathe, he went through the memories and almost rolled his eyes again.
"... You've gotta be kidding me. Can this get more clichéd? Really?"
The body belonged to Ye Jun, the young master of the Ye Clan, one of the Three Clans of Bright Star City. A man with broken meridians, which basically spelled trash in this martial world.
Yes, this was a world of cultivation.
'I'll just need to see for myself if there is more to this world or not.'
Having damaged meridians meant Ye Jun couldn't absorb Qi, which was the basis of cultivation. If he were born into a normal family, this wouldn't be a problem, as not everyone could practice martial arts anyway.
But he was the young master of a big clan, the future Clan Head. He needed to be a strong martial artist.
'Ah! The classics! Then he was bullied, and even his father gave up on him to focus on his younger son. What a tragedy.'
Ye Jun didn't give up, though, and tried everything, practising hard day and night. But just because you don't give up doesn't mean you'll succeed, so he died after overexerting himself during training.
'You have my respect, brother. And I'm glad I didn't transmigrate into some bum's body.'
Weaver, now Ye Jun, was very adaptive because of his past, so he easily got used to his new situation. He slowly sat up while thinking about how he was going to solve this situation.
He had no plans of remaining at the bottom in a world like this. Even back on Earth, he had worked hard to become a top-tier assassin, though that also became the reason he died. Now that he could actually escape human limits, he wouldn't just sit back.
"But what to do?"
Ye Jun had tried lots of things, but none worked.
Actually, there was a way to repair broken meridians. A Tier 5 Meridian Reforging Pill, something even the Ye Clan could barely afford, so there was no way Ye Jun could buy it.
He stroked his chin, an old habit, while thinking, 'That's the only way. I can return to being an assassin and earn money. Even if it takes an eternity, I can work toward it.'
One thing he had learned well in his past life was facing impossible odds without fear. Even if the chances of death were high, he didn't care and faced everything anyway.
So even if this martial world was much more dangerous, he didn't think twice before deciding on it. As long as he could get stronger, he would face anything.
The world was meant for the strongest. The weakest could only do what the strongest intended.
As he contemplated his future, something caught his sight beside the bed.
Two dark bubbles floated right next to him. The next second, one of them disappeared. As he looked closer, he noticed text floating within it.
Death*1
Ye Jun frowned and reached out to the bubble. The moment his finger touched it, the bubble disappeared, and a hologram appeared before him.
[Death +1]
...
[Attributes System]
Cultivation: Mortal
Physique: Tempered (29%)
Comprehension: Mortal (15%)
Blank Points: 0
Dao Affinity:
- Death (0.1%)
- Fire (2%)
...
"Huh?" Ye Jun blinked in surprise before a splitting grin formed on his face. 'I got a system? Really? Heh, so now I don't have to worry about my situation. Still, what are you?'
It didn't take long for him to figure out the function, since it was easy to guess. Just as the name suggested, the attribute system let him collect attributes dropped by others and use them to improve himself.
'The first three are simple. Cultivation is basically my cultivation base, and I can probably improve that by collecting cultivation-related attributes. I'll check on this one later.'
Ye Jun thought, staring deeply at the hologram.
'Physique is basically body cultivation, and comprehension is... well. Comprehension. As for affinities, I got a Death attribute point because Ye Jun died? That's how I collect attributes!'
He smiled, excited to explore this new world where he could actually get stronger and do as he pleased. Granted, there would be lots of dangers, but he was more than familiar with that by now.
As Ye Jun was making plans for his situation, he suddenly heard faint footsteps outside his hut. His instincts flared up as he jumped out of bed and searched through his new memories to see who could visit him at night.
'No one! Not a single one in this clan cared about this guy. Heck, not even in the whole world. So this must be an enemy. Do I have any weapon?'
Fortunately, this was a martial world, so carrying weapons was very common. He also had a sharp dagger, which he quickly pulled out and waited near the door.
'Let's see if you knock or not.'
A few seconds passed. The footsteps kept growing heavier with each second as Ye Jun tightened his grip on the dagger's hilt. His heartbeat slowed as he breathed steadily and waited.
The moment the door was pushed open, he sprang into action and aimed his sharp dagger at the intruder's neck without any hesitation. The speed at which he moved was far greater than he was used to, but he welcomed the benefit.
Unfortunately, the intruder sensed his attack in time and blocked his hand before Ye Jun could even see their hand movement. Still, he didn't back away and simply changed the trajectory to attack again.
Unfortunately for him, the next blow was blocked easily as a tight hold on his wrist bound him in place. He grimaced, thinking of ways he could get out of this.
'Damnit! An assassination attempt on day one?'
He couldn't even breathe properly.
He was weak. He was powerless.