Chapter 2
Three months had passed since Ryu Hayato was reborn into this cursed world and in that time, he learned one thing above all: this world was wrong.
The nights were literally bathed in blood.
A massive crimson moon hung way high in the sky, painting everything in a shade of crimson that could be classified as blood. The moon almost looked like an eye sort-of. It wasn't beautiful. It was unnerving, like the world was watching you suffer and finding amusement in your pain.
Time moved far differently here. Days lasted only 18 hours. Seasons bled into one another. He stopped trying to count them when he realized his infant body was growing faster than it should have.
This world didn't belong to humans.
It belonged to Immortals hiding in human bodies.
His father, Matsura Hayato, looked like a man in his fifties, but whispers among the servants said he was 341. His body was immortal. His will was unchallenged. And his presence was suffocating.
Ryu had felt it once again just a week ago when the man entered the outer ring to pass judgment on a disobedient servant. The man hadn't spoken. He didn't need to. The servant had collapsed to the floor bleeding from his eyes and without a single word and died.
This was the type of world Ryu was reborn into.
He no longer lived in a world with hospitals, electricity, or democracy. This realm was stuck in the iron age, where swords decided truth, and power was justice. No guns. No internet. Just blood, the sound of bones breaking under booted heels and a malleable energy called Qi that people used to perform inhumane feats.
And in the middle of it all was Ryu, helpless, suckling mashed fruits off a wooden spoon like a joke.
Naitou, his mother, had crafted some grotesque mixture of banana and avocado again. Ryu hated how delicious it was.
"You eat so well, Ryu," she whispered, gently cleaning the corners of his mouth with a warm cloth.
Her voice was soft, warm—but her hands trembled sometimes.
They lived in the outer sector of the Hayato estate. A wide courtyard surrounded their two-story wooden residence, carved from black-stained timber and topped with silver-tiled roofs. From their window, the inner sector loomed far in the distance, its towering citadel made of obsidian, bone-white spires reaching toward the red sky.
That was where Matsura lived.
With Geng Wuying, the First Wife.
And their legitimate children.
Ryu had never seen them up close. But their names were spoken with hushed reverence in the outer sector: Miura. Soma. Hozumi. The youngest one, Hozumi, was already breaking men's ribs in training. And she was only five.
And Ryu? He couldn't even crawl yet.
But he listened. He remembered. He endured.
During their evening walk—if it could be called that—Naitou carried him under her cloak. Her fingers were ice-cold. Snow blanketed the ground in a thin, grey sheet. The moon hung low. The sky never seemed to shine.
Guards passed them by, dressed in armor dyed deep indigo, spears slung over their shoulders. One of them had a scar running down the side of his jaw.
[Analysis]
[Name: Ichijou Hinonaka]
[Cultivation Stage: Qi Condensation III]
A flicker of violet shimmered in Ryu's irises before fading.
Ryu had used the same skill on Matsura once.
[Name: Matsura Hayato]
[Cultivation Level: Core Formation Stage VI]
The difference was colossal. Ichijou might have been able to shatter a wall with his fist. Matsura could likely shatter a mountain.
And Ryu? He couldn't even piss without assistance.
The System had gone mostly silent since his rebirth, but the last message it gave him still echoed in his thoughts:
[Quest: Survive Your First Year] Failure: Death.
It wasn't a warning. It was a promise that he vowed to keep.
They returned to the room after the walk, Naitou cradling him tightly. She locked the door with two wooden latches, then placed him gently on the futon.
"I saw Lady Wuying today," she whispered, not to him, but to herself.
An image of Wuying appeared in his mind. A middle aged woman in silky red robes and midnight blue hair with ferocious green eyes.
Ryu's breath stilled.
"She said... she said I should enjoy these days with you. While I still can."
She didn't cry. Her eyes just stared into the dark corners of the room, lips pressed tight.
"She won't kill me," she said finally. "She'll kill you first. That's what people like her do."
She picked him up again, rocking him slowly, her arms stiff.
"I saw her once holding a flower. It was bleeding. And she smiled."
"I've already written to my brother," she whispered. "If anything happens to me, he'll come for you. You won't be alone."
Ryu looked up at her, mind buzzing.
This wasn't a life. It was simply a death sentence with a long delay.
Ryu did know one thing, he was going to have to survive, one way or another.