A chill seeped first into his fingertips, followed by a throbbing, searing ache at the back of his skull.
When Lu Chen opened his eyes, someone was wrenching his arms behind him. His blurred vision filled with a row of rust-streaked industrial pipes and a cement floor buried under thick dust. The air reeked of motor oil and iron.
"Young Master Lin, looks like this pauper's still got a hard mouth on him."
A sycophantic voice chimed from nearby. Lu Chen—no, the "Lin Xiao" who owned this body—slowly turned his head and saw a yellow-haired lackey bowing and scraping with exaggerated enthusiasm.
Memory flooded in like a bursting dam.
Lin Xiao, twenty-two, direct grandson of the Lin family of Jiang City. The family business was worth hundreds of billions; his grandfather, Lin Zhengxiong, was a level-65 martial powerhouse; his father, Lin Guodong, held a military post. As for Lin Xiao himself—despite mountains of resources heaped upon him, he had only barely squeezed into level 15 at the age of twenty-six, a textbook wastrel among the city's privileged second generation.
Today's mission: "teach a lesson" to someone named Ye Chen.
The reason was painfully cliché: Ye Chen's fiancée, Su Muqing, had caught Lin Xiao's eye. Using the weight of his family, he had tried to force the marriage. When Ye Chen came to protest, he was beaten, had three ribs broken, and was thrown out of the Lin estate. Now, with five bodyguards in tow, Lin Xiao had cornered the still-injured Ye Chen in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city.
"A trope so classic it's nauseating," Lu Chen sneered inwardly.
He rolled his stiff neck and realized he was sitting in a leather swivel chair someone had deliberately hauled over—apparently the original owner needed even his bullying to appear "tasteful." Ten meters ahead, a young man in a faded white T-shirt was forced to kneel, his face marred by bruises, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth—yet his eyes blazed with terrifying clarity.
Ye Chen.
Lu Chen's pupils constricted. In his mercenary years he had encountered countless such eyes—the eyes of a man pushed past the brink, ready to drag everyone into death with him.
More importantly, the unremarkable black ring on Ye Chen's right index finger was emitting a faint, nearly invisible ripple of energy.
"An ancient-ring mentor spirit… a standard protagonist starter kit."
In an instant, Lu Chen pieced together the plot.
According to the original storyline, Ye Chen would erupt with sudden strength, break through on the spot, and the remnant soul within the ring would lend him power. He would kill Lin Xiao and the five level-20 bodyguards. Three days later, he would "accidentally" stumble upon his first great opportunity; in one month he'd reach level 30; in half a year he'd return to the Lin family and behead Lin Xiao in front of everyone—eventually annihilating the entire clan.
The perfect rise-of-a-protagonist script.
"What a pity," Lu Chen murmured.
"Young Master Lin? What was that?" Yellow-Hair leaned closer.
Lu Chen ignored him and slowly rose to his feet. The body felt hollow, weak—level 15 was laughable compared to the battle-hardened physique of his past life. But this body did hold one advantage—
His hand slid to his waist.
A silver-gray P99 pistol rested there, loaded with fifteen 9mm rounds. The original owner had brought it only to look impressive. He'd never fired it.
"Lin Xiao, either you kill me today," Ye Chen rasped, voice hoarse yet eerily calm, "or I swear on my life—one day, I'll return everything you've done to me a hundredfold!"
Ah. The signature line.
Lu Chen could almost feel the "force of plot" thickening in the air—an invisible pressure urging events to unfold according to script.
The five bodyguards released Ye Chen and stepped back, grinning like cats toying with a mouse. They were waiting to see how the young master wanted to "play."
Ye Chen rose slowly, flexing his wrists. The energy surrounding the ring on his hand pulsed more intensely.
Now.
Lu Chen raised the gun and pulled the trigger.
No warning. No flourish. No dramatic speech. Not even proper aim—just pure instinct honed over tens of thousands of repetitions.
The gunshot cracked through the empty factory, echoing off rusted pipes.
A neat red hole blossomed in Ye Chen's forehead. His expression froze in that exact instant—ferocity about to erupt, a hidden spark of triumph, and a glimmer of boundless dreams for the future. All of it ended with that single bullet.
He collapsed backward, hitting the ground with a dull thud.
The entire factory fell silent.
The five bodyguards stood petrified. Yellow-Hair's mouth hung open, the ingratiating smile still half-formed on his face.
Lu Chen walked to Ye Chen's corpse, crouched, and slipped the black ring from his finger. It was icy to the touch. Inside, a trembling consciousness surged—shock, fury, and an unmistakable trace of fear.
"Watch closely," Lu Chen whispered to the ring, audible only to himself. "This is how a villain does it."
He pocketed the ring and turned to the six stunned subordinates.
"Clean it up," he said, tone as even as if he were instructing them to take out the trash. "Investigate every person he knew, every place he lived, anything that might hold a 'relic.' Bring it all to me."
"Ch-check what?" Yellow-Hair stammered. "He's… he's already dead…"
Lu Chen glanced at him.
Yellow-Hair would later describe that look as chilling—nothing like Lin Xiao's usual stupidity and bluster, but a cold, detached indifference. The gaze of a butcher examining meat on a cutting block.
"Do it," Lu Chen said simply.
Five minutes later, he was seated in the back of a sedan headed for the city. Neon lights smeared across the window as the car sped through the night.
Ding.
Host behavior fully aligns with the definition of an 'Ultimate Villain.'
You have successfully eliminated the nascent Child of Destiny, Ye Chen (Projected destiny: Level 98, Martial Sovereign).
System activation in progress…
Ultimate Villain Plundering System—online.
A cold mechanical voice resonated through his mind, and a translucent panel unfolded across his vision.
Host: Lu Chen (Current identity: Lin Xiao)
Current Power: Level 15 (Martial Beginner)
Fate Value: 10 (Inherited 5; plundered 5 from Ye Chen)
Villain Points: 1000 (Starter Bonus)
Plundered Abilities: None
Plundered Opportunities: Ye Chen's 'Ancient Martial Sovereign Legacy' breadcrumb (disrupted)
Newbie Mission Complete.
Rewards:
+500 Villain Points
Ability: Qi Sense (Detect energy fluctuations within a 50m radius)
One chance to extract Ye Chen's core ability.
Lu Chen leaned back, eyes closed, digesting the information.
"Extract."
Extracting…
Success.
Acquired: Ye Chen's 'Cross-Level Combat Instinct' (Passive).
Effect: Heightens combat awareness and reaction speed when facing stronger opponents; the heavier the injury, the greater the boost. (Purified—no side effects.)
A solid start.
"System," Lu Chen asked idly, "if I had followed the original plot and been killed by Ye Chen, what would've happened?"
Calculation shows a 97.3% chance of host's death. In the unlikely event of survival, you would enter the 'Villain Redemption Route,' requiring 108 life-or-death crises, 9 betrayals, and 3 instances of losing all cultivation before being partially accepted as a marginal ally to the protagonist group.
Lu Chen let out a dry laugh.
Death would be the kinder fate.
The car pulled into the heart of Jiang City's most opulent district and stopped before a thirty-eight-story luxury tower. One of Lin Xiao's properties—a penthouse duplex worth over a hundred million.
The elevator opened straight into the suite. The fingerprint lock registered him, and the heavy wooden door slid silently aside.
Four hundred square meters of cold, minimalist design—black, white, and gray. Like a showroom rather than a home. The original owner had spent most of his nights drinking and reveling elsewhere; this place was just a bed to collapse on occasionally.
Lu Chen walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked down at the city, lights sprawling endlessly. Cargo ships glimmered faintly on the distant river.
He lifted the black ring in his palm.
"Come out," he said.
No response.
He walked to the kitchen, lit the gas stove, and held the ring three centimeters above the flame.
"I'll count to three," he said evenly. "One."
The ring trembled violently.
"Two."
A wisp of bluish smoke seeped out, condensing into the translucent figure of an elderly man in ancient robes—stern-faced, now twisted with shock and outrage.
"You insolent—!"
"Name. Origin. How you entered the ring. What you invested in Ye Chen, and how much power you have left." Lu Chen cut in, his voice steady. "You have one chance to explain."
The old spirit faltered, clearly unprepared for such an opening.
"I—I am Xuanji Shangren, a martial cultivator from three millennia ago—"
Lu Chen lowered the ring a centimeter toward the flame.
"Wait!" the spirit quivered. "I… I was besieged by my enemies and lost my body. My soul was sealed into this 'Soul-Nurturing Ring.' I awoke three months ago when Ye Chen's blood touched it. I granted him basic techniques, mended his injuries—I planned to accept him as a disciple once he reached level 20… I now possess less than ten percent of my peak power. Manifesting consumes my remaining soul force—I cannot fight!"
He spilled everything, speaking with remarkable speed.
Lu Chen switched off the stove and placed the ring on the coffee table.
"You want to live?" he asked.
The old spirit hesitated. "…Yes."
"Two choices." Lu Chen raised two fingers. "First, I erase you and refine the ring into a plain soul vessel. Second, you form a master-servant contract and work for me. Your pick."
"You dare—! I was once level ninety-two—!"
"That was three thousand years ago," Lu Chen cut him off again. "You can't even project pressure equal to level thirty now. And the disciple you chose? I killed him with one bullet. Times have changed, old sir."
The spirit flickered violently, words dying in his throat as he met Lu Chen's calm, merciless gaze.
"…What are the terms?" he asked at last.
"I feed you soul power so you don't dissipate. You provide me knowledge of ancient martial arts, cultivation expertise, and your understanding of this world. No lies, no omissions, no outside contact without my permission." Lu Chen paused. "As a sign of good faith—tell me where Ye Chen's next 'chance' was located."
The old spirit sighed, dimming visibly.
"Old City District, Qingshi Alley No. 137. Beneath the old locust tree, three meters deep—an iron box. Inside: the complete Foundation Body-Refinement Method and a bottle of Tempering Pills. Enough to raise him from level 5 to level 25. I had intended them as his first reward."
"Now they're mine." Lu Chen dialed a number.
Yellow-Hair picked up, voice trembling. "Y-Young Master Lin?"
"Send men to Qingshi Alley 137. Dig beneath the old locust tree, three meters deep. Bring me whatever you find. If someone's already there, don't engage—just observe and report."
"Yes, yes!"
After half an hour, the contract was signed. The spirit—whose true name was Li Xuan—returned to the ring. Lu Chen spent a portion of his soul power to seal the pact; a faint gray sigil flickered briefly between his brows before fading.
Detected: Host has subdued a major plot character—Li Xuan (Ancient Ring Remnant Soul).
Villain Points +300.
Temporary Buff: Ancient Martial Knowledge Infusion (72 hours).
Knowledge flooded him—techniques, cultivation hierarchies, herbology, forgotten history. Ten minutes of silent digestion transformed his understanding of the world.
Two primary power systems existed: martial artists and espers. Martial artists were ranked by level—1–30 beginner, 31–60 intermediate, 61–90 advanced, 91+ apex. Lin Zhengxiong, level 65, was top-tier in Jiang City, middling on the national or global stage.
Espers were classified by threat level rather than level.
"In short, my current level 15 might as well be an ant before true experts," Lu Chen murmured.
But he had the system.
He opened the system shop. Hundreds of items—techniques, martial skills, awakening serums, tech blueprints, intelligence packets—ranging from hundreds to millions of points.
He had 1,800 points.
Filter: 1,000–2,000 points, direct combat upgrades.
Refresh:
Instant Burst Serum (Basic) — Boosts strength and speed by 50% for ten minutes; severe fatigue afterward. 1,200 points.
Basic Firearm Mastery — Expert proficiency with all common firearms. 800 points.
Shadow Step (Fragment) — Low-tier movement art; short-range shadow blink, three uses daily. 1,500 points.
Neural Response Enhancement (Basic) — Permanently raises reaction speed and dynamic vision by 15%. 2,000 points.
Lu Chen's gaze lingered on the last.
Permanent. And a direct survival boost.
"Redeem Neural Response Enhancement."
Purchase complete. -2000 points.
Enhancement beginning.
Warmth traced his spine, surged through his limbs, and pooled in his brain. When he opened his eyes, the distant neon sign outside—its rapidly scrolling tiny text—was now perfectly clear.
Remaining balance: –200?
Newbie Protection: First redemption may overdraft up to 200 points. Must be repaid within seven days; 10% daily interest thereafter.
Charming.
His phone buzzed. Yellow-Hair texted: Young Master Lin, we found it! A metal box! Sealed! Bringing it back now. No one else around.
Lu Chen replied: Bring it straight to the apartment.
He poured half a glass of whiskey—no ice—and downed it in a single swallow. The alcohol burned his throat, warm and grounding.
The floor-to-ceiling window reflected the face of Lin Xiao—pale, pampered, bloated from indulgence. But the eyes had changed completely. They were Lu Chen's eyes: cold, detached, and shaped by a lifetime steeped in bloodshed.
"The first one is dealt with," he murmured to the reflection.
Outside, the city blazed with a million lights. In every district, countless souls chased love, ambition, money, survival.
None of them knew that the wastrel slated to die today now housed a very different soul.
And the "mandate of destiny" itself had fractured from the moment the bullet pierced Ye Chen's brow.
Lu Chen finished the last drop of whiskey and set the glass aside.
Tomorrow, he would meet "Grandfather" Lin Zhengxiong. The old man had long lost hope in his good-for-nothing grandson but would still extend basic protection for a direct heir.
Lu Chen needed that protection—and more importantly, the Lin family's resources.
As for the other "Children of Destiny" destined to appear one after another…
Lu Chen glanced at the black ring resting quietly on the table, an almost invisible curve lifting one corner of his mouth.
The hunt had only just begun.