AP CH9
“I’m so miserable…”
In the desolate backyard, Huai Shi sat on the steps of the garden, sighing toward the sky, staring blankly at the ground.
At this moment, he deeply felt that he was a child of misfortune.
Tricked by an agency into interviewing at a host club, running into a corpse on the way home, inexplicably thrown into the police station because of some box, and barely a day after being released, shoved into another station under a barrage of long and short guns.
And now, just to stay alive, he had no choice but to accept the help of a crow—except this crow’s greatest ability was to make him die over and over again.
In the end… wasn’t it all just a pointless struggle?
If I had to die, couldn’t I have just done it once?
Why did it have to be dozens of times…
So many times that he was becoming numb—this unheard-of skill called “death premonition” was almost forming on its own!
Huai Shi felt that if luck smiled on him and he managed to survive this time, he could probably grind this skill to level 10 in his lifetime just by dying!
…
…
“If you have time to complain, why not die a few more times? This method of meditation can at least train your Source Quality. Maybe soon you’ll break through that last ninety-nine percent and become a Sublimator,”
beside him, the crow—whose ink seemed to be running low and was now striped like a zebra for some reason—suggested casually.
“Like hell I’d believe you!”
Huai Shi ignored her completely, staring blankly at the desolate garden, falling into deep thought: Who am I? Where am I? With school starting in half a month, what the hell am I—a man so broke he’s about to starve—doing besides courting death?
Suddenly, he raised an eyebrow as an idea struck him:
“Hey, got any ways to make money fast?”
“Of course.”
The zebra-striped crow absentmindedly preened her feathers, pointing toward the street outside. “Walk ten minutes, catch the bus, get off after one stop, turn left—that’s a bank. Rob it. Problem solved.”
“…Anyone can rob a bank, idiot!” Huai Shi rolled his eyes. “Don’t you magical types have any ‘turn-stone-into-gold’ spells or something?”
“Ah, magic? Well, that’s a long story… but I do know the technique for making gold. However…”
“However what?”
Huai Shi leaned in, eyes lighting up.
“However, the production cost is about three thousand Dongxia yuan per gram,”
she said calmly. “This pure gold is usually used as spiritual base material in various rituals and altars. If you want, I could make you two kilos right now.”
“What the hell would I want gold for if I already had money?!”
Huai Shi was speechless.
He could only sit on the steps, staring into space again, until the faint sound of something breaking startled him.
It sounded like a glass bottle getting kicked and shattered.
So crisp and clear in the heat of this summer afternoon.
Huai Shi turned his head in surprise, looking toward the front yard.
“Someone’s here?”
The crow raised her head thoughtfully, worry creeping into her voice: “Could it be… they found out I’ve been stealing electricity from your house wiring?”
Huai Shi froze—then his eyes widened in fury. “You did WHAT without telling me?!”
“Actually, I also ran an internet cable. The WiFi signal’s pretty good.”
From under her wing, the crow pulled out a suspicious-looking smartphone. “Want the password?”
Huai Shi shot her a deadly glare, stood up, and tiptoed toward the wall behind the house. Carefully, he poked his head around the corner. The crow nimbly perched on his head and also peeked out.
In the corner of the rundown courtyard, a shadowy figure was sneakily glancing left and right before reaching up to help another figure climb down over the wall.
“I’m so miserable…”
In the desolate backyard, Huai Shi sat on the garden steps, sighing at the sky and staring blankly at the ground.
At this very moment, he deeply felt that he was truly a child of misfortune.
Tricked by a job agency into interviewing at a host club, stumbling across a corpse on the way home, inexplicably thrown into jail because of a box, and barely a day after being released, he was shoved into another mess involving guns and cameras.
Now, just to stay alive, he had no choice but to accept the help of a crow—whose greatest ability, unfortunately, seemed to be getting him killed over and over again.
In the end, was all that struggle worth it?
If he had to die, couldn’t he just die once and be done with it?
Why did it have to be dozens of times…
He had died so many times he was nearly numb to it—this unheard-of ability called “Death Premonition” was about to take shape!
Huai Shi felt that if luck favored him just a little, and he managed to survive this time, within his lifetime he could probably grind this skill up to LV10 just by dying!
…
…
“If you’ve got time to complain, why not go die a few more times? That kind of meditation will at least help train your Source Essence. Who knows? You might break past the ninety-nine percent progress bar and become an Ascender soon.”
Beside him, the crow, whose feathers had inexplicably faded into zebra-like stripes due to ink deficiency, spoke up with this suggestion.
“As if I’d believe you!”
Huai Shi completely ignored her and stared at the desolate garden, starting to reflect: Who am I? Where am I? School’s starting in half a month. I’m so broke I could die on the street. Other than courting death every day, what the hell have I been doing?
Suddenly, his brows rose as an idea came to him:
“Hey, do you have any way to make some quick money?”
“Sure.”
The striped crow nonchalantly preened her feathers and pointed to the road outside. “Walk ten minutes, catch the bus, get off one stop later, take a left—there’s a bank. Rob it. Problem solved.”
“…Anyone can rob a bank!” Huai Shi rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have any gold-making magic or something?”
“Ah, magic, now that’s a long story. But technically, I do know the method to make gold. However—”
“However what?”
Huai Shi leaned in eagerly, his eyes lighting up.
“However, the cost per gram is about three thousand Dongxia currency.”
She said calmly, “The pure gold made this way is usually used as spiritual base material for various rituals and altars. If you want, I can get you a couple of kilos.”
“What the hell would I need gold for if I already had that kind of money!”
Huai Shi was speechless.
All he could do was sit on the steps, continuing to stare blankly, until the faint sound of something breaking reached his ears, snapping him out of it.
It sounded like a glass bottle being kicked over.
So crisp in this scorching summer afternoon.
Huai Shi turned his head in surprise, looking toward the front yard.
“Someone’s here?”
The crow raised its head thoughtfully, worried. “Could they have found out I’ve been stealing electricity from your house?”
Huai Shi froze, then his eyes widened in anger. “When the hell did you secretly do that?!”
“Actually, I also spliced into a network cable. The Wi-Fi signal here is pretty good.” The crow pulled a smartphone from under her wing. “Want the password?”
Huai Shi glared at her, then stood up, tiptoeing to the corner of the house to peek outside. The crow expertly perched on his head, also poking her head out.
In the overgrown yard, two figures were sneaking around by the wall, carefully helping each other down after climbing over. Their arms were bulging with hidden things, and their faces were covered with masks.
“Well now…”
The crow asked in a low voice, “Since when did bill collectors start climbing over walls?”
“Probably just thieves,” Huai Shi gritted his teeth, bending down to pick up a half-rusted iron pipe from the corner. “Not the first time something like this has happened.”
“Oh?”
She gave him a strange glance, then smiled oddly. “Let’s hope so.”
Huai Shi ignored her, lowering his voice as he cautiously peeked at the scene ahead. The two burly men put on gloves, exchanged a few words in low voices, and began sneaking through the broken side window into the house. Huai Shi carefully opened the back door and heard the creaking of old floorboards.
Heavy footsteps circled around the living room and then headed upstairs. Doors were being opened, one after another.
Soon he heard voices from upstairs.
“Nobody’s here!”
“Search the place! He must’ve hidden the stuff somewhere!”
Then came the sounds of drawers being yanked open, furniture being overturned, and glass breaking. Huai Shi winced; the house had already been stripped bare years ago by his parents—what little value it had was long pawned away. The only things left were worthless old furniture.
And these bastards were wrecking the last of it.
At least the house was big and empty, plenty of rooms to go through—it would take them a while.
Huai Shi took a deep breath, grabbed the iron pipe, and tiptoed upstairs, following the sounds coming from his own room.
Bang.
The sound of a drawer hitting the floor.
Damn it, my desk.
Then a crash—the wardrobe’s contents were dumped all over the place.
Clatter.
The lamp and everything on the desk were knocked down.
“Hey, check this out!”
It sounded like they found something. Huai Shi heard a zipper being pulled—his guitar case was being opened—and then the dull knock of someone tapping on the guitar body.
“Nothing in here?”
“Maybe there’s a hidden compartment?” the other guessed. “Smash it open?”
Fuck you all!
Huai Shi seethed.
You ransacked everything and I let it slide, but now you want to smash my goddamn guitar—that’s crossing the line!
No time to hesitate. He peeked out—one of them knelt with his back to him, hammer raised. Without thinking, rage filling him, Huai Shi raised the pipe and leapt.
His plan was perfect: Knock out the first one, then club the second before he could react. Done!
Everything went smoothly.
Thud.
The man with the hammer fell instantly. But then—Huai Shi saw his trusty, decades-old iron pipe snap clean in the middle and fly off.
He froze.
The other guy froze too, then his eyes flashed with rage as he lunged.
Instinctively, Huai Shi kicked him hard, knocking him back. Then he grabbed a chair and smashed it down.
And so his faithful old chair was also sacrificed.
But the thug barely flinched—climbing back up, cracking his knuckles, eyes glaring murderously from behind his mask.
Huai Shi stepped back but quickly remembered: this wasn’t the old him anymore—weak and helpless.
Good. Time to try out these newly-learned death-powered skills!
He grinned coldly and launched into a set of military-style punches!
And then another set. And another. From first set to third set, flowing like water—what form! What power!
Except… it did absolutely nothing.
The man didn’t even lose a hair.
Huai Shi was almost out of breath, feeling faint, but he hadn’t landed a single useful blow… If this was under a city bridge, he might have earned applause and a few coins—but now, it was useless.
The thug moved fast and hit hard—just one punch darkened Huai Shi’s vision and swelled his cheek.
Shit. Tough opponent. Time to bail…
But the thought barely formed before rage returned: This was his house! If anyone was running, it sure as hell shouldn’t be him!
Then he felt a chill behind his head—he ducked instinctively.
A hammer whooshed past, nearly splitting his skull.
The first guy had gotten back up.
So much for old iron pipes.
Before he could regret, the other thug charged, tackling him to the ground and wrapping a hand around his throat.
“Kill this little shit!”
The masked man’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Almost ruined everything, you bastard!”
His partner, gasping for breath, came up with the hammer, raising it to smash Huai Shi’s skull. Instant karma—just minutes ago Huai Shi was clubbing them, now it was his turn to get brained.
He struggled in terror, but the grip on his throat was iron.
In panic, he tore off the man’s mask, revealing a scarred, vicious face.
“Fuck—help me—”
Huai Shi screamed.
“Quick, think of something sad!” the crow shouted. “Remember all the ways you died in those dreams—how many times, how miserable!”
Huai Shi felt weary. About to die, and she wanted him to recall that crap? Oh, right—mental prep for a peaceful death. Great idea!
But as he remembered all those miserable deaths from his visions, a wave of sorrow crushed him. The horror and weight of countless deaths pressed on his chest until he could barely breathe.
The more he had died, the more he feared death—because death was terrifying.
And in that moment, a warm rush filled his right hand. In his clenched fist, something strange gathered—like sand, grainy and fine.
Without thinking, Huai Shi flung it.
The black dust scattered from his fingertips, bursting onto the man’s face.
The choking grip loosened. Huai Shi gasped and rolled aside—just as the hammer smashed into the floor where his head had been.
The explosion of wood made him break into a cold sweat.
But before he could rise, he saw the man who had been choking him stiffen, face turning red, eyes watering—then burst into tears.
The hammer guy blinked, stunned, then his eyes reddened too…
What the hell?
Pepper spray?
Confused, Huai Shi inhaled the drifting black dust—only to feel a sharp ache bloom from his nose.
“Careful—that’s ‘Calamity Ash!’ One touch and you’re screwed!” the crow finally warned, too late.
Huai Shi realized—the pain wasn’t external. It came from deep inside his soul.
As if fired from your job by a shitty boss, losing your beloved dog, discovering your girlfriend in bed with someone else after finishing overtime, a sudden cancer diagnosis, the death notice of a loved one… the misery of a failed writer who couldn’t finish chapters as promised…
His chest burned, eyes welled up, nose stung from the sheer despair flooding his heart. His mind flashed to when he fell at age three, when bullies stole his money at six, when his useless parents disappeared with charity funds, the sketchy host club interview, getting randomly dragged into this disaster…
“Oh Heaven, why is my life so bitter!”
Huai Shi wailed to the sky, tears gushing freely, sobbing uncontrollably…