A nameless street urchin dies after trying his hardest to survive in a cruel and unfair world, and then finds himself in a new one. Being reincarnated as Liu, the only son of peace-loving villagers in a rural community, he is initially content and overjoyed with this new life of peace and tranquility that he is born into. Unfortunately, this does not last forever. After his village is ravaged by bandits, Liu loses everything... including his freedom. Cursed to the life of a slave, he firmly decides to fight against his fate and rise against the tides of this new world that boasts even greater cruelty than his previous one. This world is home to Martial Arts, Mystical Arts, Strange Beasts, and powers that defy imagination, yet Liu is determined to survive in it. No, not just survive... he desires to rise to the very top, eliminating those who stand in his way. "Living is not for the weak." He says, "I refuse to be weak!"
Liu stirred in his sleep, his peaceful rest disrupted by a creeping sensation that slithered up his spine. It was a looming shadow that drew ever closer, enveloping him in its inky embrace.
As he struggled against the darkness, it seemed to seep into his very being, threatening to suffocate him with its weight. With a sudden jolt, Liu was yanked from the grip of this spectral force, his eyes snapping open in a gasp of surprise.
"H-huh…?" he muttered groggily, still dazed from his brush with the unknown.
He scanned the room, his gaze lingering on the flickering flames of the fireplace that cast eerie shadows on the walls. Liu's breathing was shallow, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.
As he lay there, a sense of familiarity washed over him. This wasn't the first time he had felt this way. It was as if the very air around him was charged with a palpable tension that made his skin crawl.
Liu rose from the bed, careful not to wake his parents as he tiptoed into the living room. The soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the windows, casting an ethereal glow on the room. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath his feet, and he shuddered at the sound, as if it were a whisper from some unseen force.
He paused, his breath catching in his throat, as the feeling intensified. It was like a weight pressing down on him, a sense of unease that made his stomach twist and churn. He could feel his skin prickle with goosebumps, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
Liu's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to make sense of the fear that gripped him. This was a feeling he had never experienced before, not in all the years he had spent in Weiji. Nothing in this peaceful village had ever stirred such a primal sense of danger within him.
But his instincts would not let him rest. Liu knew he had to be prepared for whatever lay ahead. He scoured the kitchen for anything that could serve as a weapon, his hands shaking with adrenaline-fueled anxiety.
As he rifled through the drawers, he was disappointed to find only a few dull stone knives, hardly fit for battle. His instincts told him that they wouldn't be enough to defend himself, and so he continued his search.
Then, his fingers closed around something cold and hard. It was a sharp butcher knife, the kind they only used on the rare occasions when they killed livestock for food. The weight of it felt uncomfortable in his small hand, but Liu knew that he had found his weapon.
He scanned the room for more, his eyes darting from one corner to the next in search of anything that could help him. But there was nothing. No chisels, no hammers, nothing that could be used to fend off an attacker.
Liu cursed under his breath. His father had never shown him where he kept his tools, and now he was left defenseless in the face of an unknown danger.
But Liu refused to give up. He clutched the butcher knife tightly in his hand, his mind racing with thoughts of what could be lurking in the shadows. He knew that he had to be ready for whatever lay ahead, no matter how terrifying it might be.
Liu's heart raced with urgency. He sensed that time was running out to protect his loved ones. He knew he could find the intruders if he tried, but he dared not waste another moment. Without hesitation, he darted towards the entrance of his home, his small frame moving with surprising agility.
As he approached, the muffled sounds of footsteps and whispers grew louder. Liu's senses sharpened, his eyes focused on the wall beside the door. He didn't need to see the intruders to know they were the enemy. His instincts were honed by a lifetime of danger and hardship.
His eyes gleamed with a fierce determination, a steely resolve that belied his young age. Liu moved like a shadow, silently blending into the wall, becoming one with the darkness. He was like a chameleon, adapting to his surroundings, his presence undetectable to anyone who might enter the room.
He waited, poised and ready for anything. He did not know who or what would come through the door, but he was prepared to fight to the death to protect his family. Liu was a warrior, a guardian of his home and his people.
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The peaceful village of Weiji was under attack, its inhabitants helpless against the merciless onslaught of the Hundred Red Scarfs Bandits. The invaders had surrounded the village, easily overpowering the unarmed and untrained villagers. Men were slaughtered, women were violated and then killed, and children were knocked unconscious and dragged outside.
The invaders laughed and jeered, their lust for blood and pleasure driving them to commit unspeakable atrocities. They were a hundred strong, a well-organized and ruthless gang of bandits who preyed on the weak and defenseless.
The villagers were no match for them. They had lived in peace for too long, never imagining that violence and death could visit their idyllic village. They had no weapons, no training, and no means of defending themselves.
The bandits were a ruthless and efficient group, attacking isolated villages like this one with ease. The villagers, having never experienced true violence before, were unable to defend themselves against the bandits' superior numbers and skill.
As the bandits made their way through the village, their leader remained in the shadows, content to let his minions do his bidding. He was a Practitioner, but he found no thrill in participating in their raids. He preferred to let his underlings do the dirty work while he watched from afar.
The bandits' current method of operation was a formula for success, with only one member having suffered casualty since the group's creation. The rest of the bandits, fueled by simple desires and a lust for power, remained unscathed as they continued their rampage through the village.
The bandit in question, eager to score himself a fine woman, eagerly approached a larger house, knowing that it belonged to a well-to-do family. He relished the thought of what he might find inside and licked his lips in anticipation.
As he broke into the house, he reveled in the spare time he had on his hands, unlike his comrades who were busy having their fun. He had already disposed of one foolish man, and now he was ready for more.
"This should be fun!" he exclaimed, eager to see what treasures awaited him within the walls of the house.