Pathetic Trash

Javial pressed his palm against the Awakening Stone, feeling its cold, lifeless surface beneath his fingers.

His heart pounded. Not from excitement—but from pure frustration.

"Fourteen years… Fourteen damn years of being a useless disgrace!"

He wasn't the original Javial. That pathetic fool had spent his entire life as a weakling, mocked and ridiculed by everyone. A failure from birth.

And now, he had taken over this body.

"And I have to clean up this mess?"

He clenched his jaw. If he could, he'd curse the real Javial for being so pathetic. This body had potential, but the idiot had wasted every second of his life.

The disciples watching sneered.

"Why is he even trying?"

"Tch. After fourteen years of nothing, does he think he'll awaken something amazing?"

Javial ignored them.

Liu Feng, the Elite Disciple overseeing the test, stood calmly. His presence alone was enough to silence the hall, a reminder that he was one of the strongest—just below the elders.

He gave Javial a bored glance and said, "Begin."

The moment Javial's mana connected with the stone, a BOOM echoed through the hall.

A wave of immense pressure burst from the Awakening Stone, shaking the floor beneath their feet. The winds howled, sweeping through the sect as if a storm had arrived.

The light of the stone surged—brighter, stronger, terrifying.

Golden radiance exploded from its surface, illuminating the entire sect.

The laughter died.

Silence fell.

Jaws dropped.

Even Liu Feng's indifferent face stiffened.

"This pressure… could it be… a Divine Vein?"

The elders, who had barely paid attention before, suddenly turned their heads toward the ceremony.

The weak disciples took steps back, their eyes filled with fear and envy.

Even Kang Shuan, another top disciple, frowned deeply. This wasn't normal.

Javial could feel the energy surging around him, a force so powerful it made his heart race.

"This is it!"

A smirk almost formed on his lips. He had done it.

He had shattered the destiny of the weakling who came before him.

The heavens themselves seemed to acknowledge him.

A Divine Vein.

He was no longer trash.

He was chosen.

Suddenly—

A terrifying aura descended upon the sect.

BOOM!

The sky trembled, and a majestic figure stepped out of thin air.

The Sect Master had arrived.

The disciples froze in shock.

"The Sect Master?!"

"He left his seclusion?!"

Even Liu Feng's face showed a rare trace of surprise.

The Sect Master never interfered in ordinary Awakening Ceremonies. He only came when a Divine Vein was awakened.

His piercing gaze locked onto Javial, his eyes filled with expectation.

For a brief moment, everyone believed—Javial was about to become the sect's brightest star.

But then—

The light flickered.

The ground stopped trembling.

The pressure vanished.

The golden glow dimmed—fading into nothingness.

Then—

A faint, dull gray light replaced it.

The mark of an Inferior-Class Vein.

Silence.

Then—laughter erupted.

"HAHAHAHA!"

"Fourteen years… for this?"

"An Inferior Vein?! He's lower than a servant!"

Javial froze.

He felt like something inside him had cracked.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palm. His breath was heavy.

"What… what the hell just happened?"

He looked up, his eyes filled with fury and disbelief.

The Sect Master's expression darkened.

Disappointment flashed in his eyes.

Then, without hesitation—

He spoke one word.

"Waste."

And just like that, he turned and vanished, leaving behind only a crushing silence.

Javial stood there, trembling.

He had reached the gates of heaven—only to be thrown into hell.

Javial stood motionless.

The laughter around him grew louder, ringing in his ears like a mocking chorus.

He could feel their sneers, their disgust.

"Trash."

"Pathetic."

"Fourteen years… for an Inferior-Class Vein?"

He clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms, but he said nothing.

Kang Shuan placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Don't be discouraged," Kang Shuan said in a low voice. "Even with an Inferior Vein, you can still—"

Javial pushed his hand away.

Kang Shuan's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

Javial didn't say a word. He just turned around and walked away.

His back rigid, his steps steady—but his silence carried a deeper weight than any words could.

The laughter intensified.

"HAHAHAHA! Did you see that?!"

"He didn't even say anything!"

"Acting cold? What else can he do? He's worse than a servant now!"

"Maybe he'll run away from the sect out of shame!"

Javial's figure disappeared from the hall.

But Kang Shuan… stood still.

His hands trembled.

Not from fear.

But from rage.

His eyes, filled with frustration, scanned the crowd.

These cowards who mocked Javial now—where were they when they thought he had a Divine Vein?

Kang Shuan gritted his teeth.

Then—he moved.

BAM!

A disciple screamed as Kang Shuan's fist crashed into his face, sending him flying across the hall.

Blood splattered across the ground.

The hall fell silent for a moment.

But then—

"You—!"

Before another student could react—

BOOM!

Kang Shuan's foot slammed into another disciple's ribs, sending him rolling across the stone floor.

"AHHH!"

The watching disciples staggered back in horror.

"K-Kang Shuan! What are you doing?!"

CRACK!

Another student collapsed, clutching his broken arm.

A disciple tried to retaliate—swinging his fist at Kang Shuan's face—

But he was too slow.

Kang Shuan grabbed his wrist, twisted it—

SNAP!

"ARRRGHHH!"

Kang Shuan's fury burned like wildfire.

One by one, he destroyed the students who had laughed at Javial.

A swift elbow to the gut.

A kick to the jaw that sent another flying.

A powerful palm strike that shattered ribs like brittle wood.

Within moments, over ten disciples lay groaning on the ground.

Some coughed up blood. Others whimpered, too injured to move.

Kang Shuan stood amidst the chaos, his breath heavy, his fists bloodied.

The few remaining disciples shivered, stepping away in terror.

Even Liu Feng, the Elite Disciple overseeing the test, remained unmoved.

He simply watched, his expression indifferent.

To him, this was nothing more than an insect disciplining other insects.

No elder would care.

Because in the sect—there was no place for the weak.

After some time,Javial....

Javial entered his hut, closing the door behind him.

For a moment, he stood still.

Then—

"AAAAARGHHH!"

A furious scream tore through the silent night.

His fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palm, drawing blood. His chest heaved, his breathing ragged as he punched the wooden wall.

BANG!

A deep crack spread across the wood.

"This… this is how I'm supposed to live..

A fate even worse than a servant.

He let out a bitter laugh, a twisted, mocking chuckle aimed at himself.

"Javial, don't get tense…" he muttered, speaking to himself. "You don't have to walk the bloody path of your past life as a killer… just live a simple life as a servant. Yes… it's fine…"

His lips curled into a forced smile.

But the moment the words left his mouth, his chest tightened in rage.

Could he really do it?

Could he really live like this?

A servant? A slave? A worthless piece of trash?

No.

He hated this feeling.

This powerlessness.

The frustration clawed at his mind, bringing back the memories of his past life.

Back then, he wasn't some psycho killer.

He was just… a normal killer.

A man who did what had to be done, who killed those he was paid to kill.

But people… they called him a psycho.

Because his methods were too ruthless.

Because his face never showed emotion.

Because he never hesitated, never faltered.

His own past life… that image of himself… angered him even more.

Knock. Knock.

A sudden knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts.

Javial took a deep breath, forcing his emotions down, and opened the door.

Standing outside was an outer disciple, a young man clad in a simple robe, his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips.

In his hands was a set of dull, gray robes.

The servant uniform.

"So, Javial," the disciple sneered, holding the uniform out, "after fourteen years, you finally awakened your vein, huh?"

Javial didn't react.

The disciple leaned in slightly, his grin widening.

"And it's an inferior-class vein. Hah. What a joke."

He laughed. A cold, mocking laugh that echoed in the empty, desolate part of the sect where only the most useless disciples were sent.

"Pathetic trash," the disciple spat, tossing the uniform at Javial's feet.

Then, without another word, he turned and left, still chuckling to himself.

Javial stood there, his eyes locked on the gray fabric at his feet.

His fists trembled.

His jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.

It wasn't just the fact that he was being treated as a servant.

It was worse.

Because he wasn't even worthy of being a proper servant.

Even in the sect's hierarchy of slaves—he was the lowest.

He forced himself to breathe, stepping back into the hut and slamming the door shut.

"I think… I'll just sleep."

He muttered to himself, lying down.

Even if he tried, he couldn't sleep.

The bed was too rough.

His mind was too loud.

But after countless turns and frustrated sighs—he finally fell into a restless slumber.

Midnight.

The full moon hung high in the sky.

Wolves howled in the distance.

Awooooooooo!

The sect grounds were silent.

The desolate area where the lowest servants lived barely had any light.

It was as if the sect itself had abandoned this place.

And then—

A voice echoed in Javial's mind.

"It's time to prove you are worthy."