New Quest ( chapter 3

Dawn painted over Mount Hua's peaks in shades of sun . Rudra's little enhanced senses made some dramatically change in his life even if it were little it did every detail felt sharp as a blade - from the worn grooves in the courtyard stones weathered by centuries of footsteps, to the whispered conversations faint but hearable clearly ,

The morning dew carried the scent of wet stone and early blooming plum blossoms, almost overwhelming in its intensity.

Just two points added to his senses through the system had transformed his perception so dramatically that the world felt different to him

The thought both thrilled and terrified him: if such a minor enhancement could do this much, what changes would come with continued use of the system? How strong might he become?

But darker thoughts intruded, slithering through his mind like poisonous snakes. What if the screen gives me an absurd quest, like killing a master-level martial artist? What then? Would I have any choice but to accept my death?

Rudra shook his head, his calloused hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to clear such dangerous thoughts out of his mind .

He had duties to attend to - the training ground needed cleaning before the disciples arrived for their morning practice. Moments ago, a servant boy with dirt-stained feet and patched clothing had come to remind him of his work ,

As he walked toward the familiar place, memories flooded back, but none brought joy. Cleaning the floor , getting beaten for minor infractions, serving meals with his eyes fixed firmly on the ground - thirty years of existence reduced to a litany of servitude. Each memory carried a regrets of themselves

He stopped abruptly as reality struck him, In all his years of life, he had done nothing but work as a servant, watching masters from afar as they performed magnificent feats of martial arts. He had spent countless nights dreaming of learning those techniques, only to wake each morning to the same mundane tasks. The weight of this truth froze him like a sculpture for several long minutes,

Finally, he moved - only to slap himself hard across the face. The sharp crack resonate off the courtyard walls, and the sting felt more intense than it should have.

"What will change even if I regret now?" he muttered, "All I did was live knowing I would regret it eventually."

As he resumed his walk to the training ground, the thought haunted him like a hungry ghost. He had lived knowing his life held little value, yet he had chosen to continue anyway. Regret. It was a fascinating question - was a "better life" simply one with fewer regrets, or was there more to it? The human experience was complex, and regret seemed woven into its very fabric, of It was almost impossible to navigate life without making choices that led to regret.

Was it merely a safe life he had chosen before, or something deeper?....

Human existence was often intertwined with regret - a quiet companion lingering in the corners of our minds,Every human being, at some point, looks back on their journey and finds moments they wish had unfolded differently. Regret wasn't just an emotion; it was a reflection of growth, a signpost marking where we'd been and what we'd learned.

But for Rudra, regret didn't reflect growth. His mentality had always been to play it safe, to bow lower than necessary, to work harder than required, all in the name of security. And only now, as he felt his life slipping away like sand through an hourglass, did he realize all his choices had been wrong. Every decision made in the name of safety had become another regret, another chain binding him to a life of servitude.

The morning sun had risen higher when he finally reached his familiar place, the training ground where he had swept and cleaned for so many years that his footprints were worn into the stone. He searched for the broom he had known all his life, its handle smooth from decades of use. Just as he spotted it, leaning against the wall where it always waited for him, a gentle chime sounded came

and the screen appeared before him:

[New Quest: Kill the first person who speaks to you]

[Reward: skill ?]

[Upon failure: death]

[Remaining lives: 0]

[Time limit: 24 hours]

The characters glowed with an otherworldly light, each stroke crisp and clear like a day

"What the fuck is this saying?" His voice cracked, the words barely a whisper

Rudra couldn't believe his eyes, no he didn't didn't want to believe what he was reading. The characters seemed to burn themselves into his mind, each one a brand of impossible choice. Before he could even process the horror of it, his newly shared hearing caught the soft shuffle of approaching footsteps. Without thinking, he looked toward the sound. An old man in worn white robes that had long lost their luster was walking toward him, smiling, a broom in his weathered hands. Deep wrinkles lined his face like dried riverbeds,

Pure instinct took over. Rudra bolted in the opposite direction, his feet carrying him past the weapon racks. His hand moved of its own accord, snatching a blade from a nearby bundle as he fled. The steel felt cold and wrong in his grip, yet his fingers clutched it like a lifeline.

"What the fuck am I thinking?" His thoughts raced, tumbling over each other like stones in a landslide. "Shit... shit... shit... Now what am I going to do?"

He ran blindly through the sect's grounds, avoiding any sign of people, but a treacherous thought crept in, poisonous as a serpent: What if I kill the old man? He's going to die in a few years anyway... It would be a mercy, really...

"Fuck, what the hell am I thinking? It's not me... it's not me..." Even as he denied it, he had already made a decision for himself his racing heart, his sweating palms, the trembling in his hands all told him these were his own thoughts, his own desires born of desperate survival.

The running exhausted him more quickly than it should have after few more steps Finally, he stopped in an empty field where tall grass swayed in the wind, as if mocking his situation. The grass stretched toward the sky like thousands of green blades, each one catching the light differently

In his frustration, he cursed at the grass, needing some target for his rage. "You worthless piece of shit, even horses won't eat you, as tall as you've become!" The words felt hollow even as he spoke them, but he needed to vent his anger on something, and even in this dire situation, he wouldn't dare curse anyone to their face - such was the life he had lived, such were the habits carved into his soul.

He looked around the field of grass

" what is that.... I think I know that plant isn't that a .... He took a pause and

Fuck it....

Lying back on a large rock, its surface warm from the morning sun, he closed his eyes, only to hear another chime. The screen reappeared, its cosmic green glow both beautiful and terrible, like the northern lights he had once heard travelers describe:

[Remaining time: 23 hours left]

[Upon failure: death]

[Remaining lives: 0]

"FUCKkkkkk!"

The scream tore from his throat, startling birds from a nearby tree.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do in this abusive situation?"

For someone who had lived his whole life avoiding even the smallest risks, being suddenly forced to choose between killing and being killed was too much. The weight of the choice pressed down on him like a mountain. He sat in silence for a long moment, watching the grass dance in the wind, before another scream of frustration came from his chest.

"Let's just accept it. I had already decided what I needed to do the moment I grabbed the blade in my hand I was just running away from it."

His voice was steady now, resigned yet somehow stronger.

He lifted the blade before him, watching sunlight play along its edge . Each nick and scratch in the metal told a story of previous use, and he wondered briefly whose blood it had tasted before.

"Now it's for life."

Without further hesitation, he ran back the way he had come, his feet sure despite his racing heart even then so many thoughts were surging through him and some were like a

What if I don't kill anyone ...and i don't die ether , it's must be jocking with me if that thing was going to kill me it would have done that already

A second thought surged through him like a blade cutting the flesh raw

" what if i die "

He took a long silence in thewas thinking about it , it's was a matter that could be thinked in such little time but he had to do that .....

"Fuck it... I don't care now. Whoever comes first in front of me, I will kill them."

The words tasted like ash in his mouth, but they gave him strength.

At a crossing where three paths met beneath an old pine tree, he saw a child gathering fallen pinecones and froze. The child couldn't have been more than seven or eight, with the round cheeks and innocent eyes of youth.

"I was talking about a mature man... I wasn't talking about a kid..."

His voice trembled as he hurried past, only to collide with someone else.

"Hey kid, can't you see?" The voice was familiar, too familiar.

"Fuck... Why him... fuck, why does it need to be him..."