The morning light had just emerged, the sky was gray, and the stone pavement on the outer street of Qincheng was still moist from last night's rain. The muddy water is mixed with dust, and if you step on it, you can sink half an inch deep. The roadside stalls have not yet been set up, and there are only a few homeless people huddled in the corner and taking a nap. The wind made the rag curtains snap and the whole street was so quiet that you could hear the sound of mice gnawing at the walls.
Just around the corner, a young man suddenly opened his eyes.
His name is Qin Zhao, he has a seventeen-year-old body and a twenty-eight-year-old heart. One moment, he was signing a merger and acquisition agreement on a helicopter, and the next moment, he was lying in this pile of mud, feeling like he had been run over by a truck. The coarse cloth felt cold and sticky against his body, his long hair was all over his face, and the thin golden mark on his left eyebrow bone was faintly hot. He moved his hands, his fingers were stiff, and his senses were as if they were separated by a layer of frosted glass. Everything he heard was blurred, and everything he saw was reflected.
"I...am not dead?"
His throat was so dry that it was smoking, and his voice was hoarse and unlike his own. Two memories collided in his mind: on one side, he was a modern plutocrat, in charge of trillions of assets, and his words could overturn the stock market; on the other side, there were the fragments of this body - an abandoned son of the Qin family, whose blood was impure, his spiritual roots were extracted, and he was expelled from the clan. A useless body, worse than a handyman.
"Fuck."
He uttered a word and tried to sit up, but his limbs were as soft as noodles. As soon as he raised his body, a sneer came from his ears.
"Hey, the Qin family's useless dog is really not dead?"
Qin Zhao looked up and saw a man with a sinister face standing in front of him, holding a dagger with water dripping from the tip. The man was wearing leather armor and had a string of bells hanging from his waist. He looked like a street gangster. The two boys behind him were leaning against the wall with their arms folded, looking like they were watching a good show.
"I heard that your father said when he threw you out that this kind of garbage is a waste of air." Gangster A shook his dagger and grinned, "How about I help you save some food?"
Qin Zhao said nothing. He was still adapting to this body, and his mind was spinning very fast. The language can be understood, but the power system of this world is completely unfamiliar. No signal, no bodyguards, no law. This is not the place for reasoning.
"Don't speak? Are you scared?" Gangster A took a step forward, pointing the dagger at his neck, "The Qin family doesn't want you anymore, why are you pretending to be noble? Today I will clean up the house for them!"
The moment the words fell, the knife struck down.
The sound of the wind pressed against my ears, and it was so fast that I had no time to react. Qin Zhao instinctively raised his hand to block it, and grabbed the blade directly with his palm.
"Looking for death!" Gangster A laughed ferociously.
But the next second, the smile froze.
The moment the blade touched Qin Zhao's hand, the whole dagger seemed to be sucked by something. The spiritual power was lost crazily, disintegrating from the handle to the tip of the knife, turning into an ordinary piece of iron in the blink of an eye. Gangster A's expression changed drastically, and he pulled him back hard, only to find that the knife was welded into his opponent's hand.
"What's going on?!"
Qin Zhao himself was confused. He just felt a "boom" in the sea of consciousness, like a door being opened. A shadow emerged from the darkness, as dark as an abyss, and the door was engraved with incomprehensible runes, spinning and devouring. That power came from the depths of his soul, was uncontrollable, and was purely triggered by his survival instinct.
All the spiritual power of the dagger was absorbed.
The color of his pupils changed, turning dark purple, as if something was burning in his eyes.
"What the hell..." The gangster backed away in fear and wanted to call someone.
Qin Zhao moved.
The left hand clasps the opponent's wrist, and the right hand becomes a claw and goes straight for the throat. The movements were crisp and neat, without any hesitation. In modern shopping malls, people who bankrupt their opponents while talking and laughing have no psychological struggle at all by killing a gangster.
Click.
The sound of the broken throat bones was clear and crisp.
Gangster A's eyes widened, his mouth opened, but no sound came out. He wanted to shout and beg for mercy, but his windpipe had been pinched. His legs went weak, and he fell to his knees, squeezing his neck with both hands, his eyes bulging, and veins pulsing on his face.
Qin Zhao let go of his hand and let him fall.
The body was smashed into the muddy water, causing a circle of stains. The dagger fell aside, dull and dull, and even the smell of rust could no longer be detected.
Qin Zhao stood still. My breathing is a bit rapid and my hands are still shaking. It's not that I'm afraid, it's that this body is too weak, and the grabbing and pinching just now almost exhausted all my strength. He looked down at his bloody palm, his fingertips were still dripping with blood from scratches he had made while holding the knife.
"Killed."
He murmured, his tone extremely calm.
In a previous life, negotiating a contract and signing it would put tens of thousands of people out of work. In this life, it is easier to break someone's neck with your own hands than to sign a document.
He slowly raised his left hand and stroked a faint dark line on his wrist with his fingertips. The lines were like cracked lightning, and they were hot when touched. The devouring power just now came from here.
"Gui Xu... remnant soul?"
The word suddenly came out and he was stunned. It's not a memory, it's like an instinctive recognition. That door-like thing can swallow other people's things and seal them? The dagger just now was obviously sucked dry, but when he closed his eyes, he could "see" it in the sea of consciousness - lying quietly in the void, glowing with faint light.
The first "treasure".
Although he didn't know how to use it yet, his intuition told him: this thing belongs to him.
He knelt down and picked up the dagger. The weapon that was originally heavy is now as light as a piece of paper, with no spirituality at all. He stuffed it into his arms and stood up.
The street corner remains quiet. The scene just happened so fast that no one noticed. The wind blew and picked up a few fallen leaves. The sound of the morning market opening could be heard in the distance, as if nothing had happened.
But Qin Zhao knew that something had changed.
He looked towards Qincheng. There are many tall buildings and clan mansions, and the flag of the Qin family is fluttering in the morning breeze. He was once the young master there, but now he was thrown out as trash.
"Impure blood? Wasted body?"
He sneered, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.
"The day I stand up, you will kneel down and beg me to accept this surname."
He moved his wrist, and the thin golden mark on the brow bone of his left eye felt slightly hot. When he fought back just now, the power seemed to have left a trace in his body. It's not a wound, it's more like a mark - the price of keeping it as a treasure.
He didn't know what it meant and didn't care.
I just want one thing now: to survive.
And live harder than anyone else.
He took a step forward and stepped on the body of Gangster A. Half of his shoes were stained with mud and water. He didn't look back or take another look. This kind of scumbag will not be investigated even if he dies. In this city, people disappear every day.
He is just the beginning.
The real game hasn't started yet.
But he could already smell blood.
It's not the blood in front of you, it's the overwhelming smell in the future that can dye the whole city red.
He touched the dark lines on his left wrist and whispered: "Next time, don't make me wait so long."
In the sea of consciousness, the dark door shook slightly, as if in response.
He continued walking forward, his pace a little more steady. The body is still weak, but the will has been established.
In his previous life, he was the king of hell in the capital world.
In this life, he will bring disaster to this continent.
Whoever stands in the way will die.
Especially the Qin family.
He remembered that the old man was sitting in the main seat, without even raising his eyelids: "This son's blood is mixed, it is useless to keep him, and he will be driven out."
OK.
Are you calling me useless now?
When I smash all the statues of gods you worship into pieces, let's see if you still recognize this grandson.
The corners of his mouth curved a little, but his eyes were as cold as ice.
In the distance, a few gangster-looking people were walking towards this side. They seemed to be accomplices of the group just now. When they saw the body on the ground, they stopped immediately and winked at each other.
One of them pulled out a knife.
Qin Zhao saw it and didn't stop.
Instead, he greeted him.
He now has no spiritual power, no weapons, and no backing.
But he has a treasure trove.
As long as there is one more person who dares to take action, he will swallow another "treasure".
If it doesn't work once, then twice.
If it doesn't work ten times, try it a hundred times.
One day, he will stuff all the treasures of the Seven Temples into it, and then take them out one by one and smash them in the face.
"The Qin family's useless dog?" He chuckled, "You will soon know what a real mad dog is."
As he got closer and closer, his pupils turned dark purple again.
The gangsters looked at each other and suddenly felt something was wrong.
The man in front of him was obviously as thin as a sick man, but standing there, he looked like a ferocious beast that was about to pounce at any time.
One of them was timid and already started to retreat.
Qin Zhao did not pursue him.
He stood there, his left hand stroking the dark lines on his wrist, his right hand hanging by his side, his fingertips still stained with blood.
The wind ruffled his long hair.
He was motionless.
Like a statue that just crawled out of hell.
Behind him, Gangster A's body lay quietly, his eyes still open, reflecting the gray sky.
The next second, rapid footsteps were heard in the distance.
More people came.
Qin Zhao didn't look back.
He knew this was just the beginning.
He also knew that he would no longer be at the mercy of others.
The ruins have been opened, and disaster is coming.
From now on, whoever touches him will have to pay the price.
He whispered: "Qin family? I will smash it sooner or later."
The sound is not loud, but it is like a knife carving into a stone, every word, every word, penetrates deeply into the bones.
He stood still.
The bloody hand rested on his left wrist.
The wind stopped.
There was dead silence on the street corner.