Chapter 1: The Last Part-Time Shift
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as Zhang Ye wiped the counter of the small convenience store. The scent of instant noodles and cheap cigarettes clung to the air, mixing with the distant sound of traffic outside. His shift was almost over just a few more minutes, and he'd be free.
"Oi, Zhang Ye! You still here?"
A familiar voice called from the entrance. It was Liu Meng, his coworker, stepping inside with a tired yawn. The guy was dressed in the same dull blue uniform, looking just as exhausted as Zhang Ye felt.
"Yeah, just finishing up." Zhang Ye tossed the dirty rag into a bucket.
"Man, I swear, this job is sucking the soul out of me. I should've just scammed my way into some cushy office job like my cousin." Liu Meng stretched, cracking his back. "So, what's your plan after this? Gonna finally do something with that so-called 'martial arts talent' of yours?"
Zhang Ye snorted. "Please. That was years ago. I haven't practiced in ages."
"You say that, but you still move like a fighter. Every time a customer drops something, you react like you're dodging an attack." Liu Meng chuckled. "Must be muscle memory."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Zhang Ye waved him off, then glanced at the clock. 11:58 PM. Almost there.
The bell above the door jingled as a new customer walked in. Zhang Ye glanced over, immediately noticing something off. The guy was wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled low over his face, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Something about the way he moved it was too stiff, too unnatural.
"Welcome," Zhang Ye said out of habit.
The man ignored him and walked straight to the back of the store.
Zhang Ye exchanged a look with Liu Meng. His coworker shrugged, leaning against the counter like he didn't have a care in the world.
Then, just as the clock hit 12:00 AM, the man turned back toward the counter, pulling something from his pocket.
A knife.
"Shit," Liu Meng muttered under his breath.
"Empty the register," the man said, his voice low and raspy.
Zhang Ye exhaled slowly. His shift was officially over.
And it was about to get a lot more interesting.
Liu Meng froze. "Hey, man, let's not do anything crazy, alright? The register's got, what, a couple hundred at most? Not worth it."
"Shut up," the man snapped, stepping closer. The blade gleamed under the store's harsh lights, trembling slightly in his grip. A junkie. Zhang Ye could tell from the guy's twitchy movements, the way his pupils were blown wide. Desperate, erratic dangerous.
Zhang Ye raised his hands, keeping his voice calm. "Alright, relax. We'll get you the money." He nudged Liu Meng with his foot. "Open it."
Liu Meng swallowed hard and fumbled with the register, the machine beeping as it unlocked. The robber's eyes flicked toward the cash, just for a second.
A second was all Zhang Ye needed.
He moved.
His right hand shot forward, grabbing the man's wrist before the knife could swing. With a sharp twist, he wrenched it sideways, forcing the thug's arm into an unnatural angle. The man yelped in pain, but Zhang Ye wasn't done. He stepped in, twisting his hips, and slammed an elbow into the guy's jaw.
The impact sent the thug stumbling back, crashing into a display of instant noodles.
Liu Meng gawked. "Holy shit!"
The robber groaned, rolling over the scattered noodle cups. His knife was gone, clattering somewhere under the shelves. Zhang Ye took a step forward, ready to finish it
The door burst open.
Five more men rushed in.
"That's him!" One of them pointed at Zhang Ye. "Get that bastard!"
Zhang Ye barely had time to react before they charged.
Zhang Ye barely had time to curse before the first thug swung at him. A wild punch sloppy, full of anger but no technique. Zhang Ye ducked, feeling the rush of air as the fist sailed past his head.
His instincts kicked in. His body moved before his mind caught up. He twisted low, sweeping his leg out CRACK! The thug's knee buckled, and he collapsed with a pained howl.
"Shit! Get him!" Another one lunged.
Zhang Ye pivoted, grabbing a bottle from the counter. He didn't even look before smashing it against the attacker's head. Glass shattered, and the man staggered back, dazed.
Liu Meng stood frozen behind the counter. "Bro, what the hell"
"Call the cops!" Zhang Ye barked, blocking a wild kick with his forearm.
A third thug rushed in, swinging a metal pipe. Zhang Ye barely dodged in time the pipe whistled past his face, slamming into a shelf. The impact sent bags of chips tumbling to the floor.
Zhang Ye clenched his jaw. Too many. Too fast.
He couldn't take them all at once. Not without getting hurt.
Another swing. He ducked, grabbed a can of beer, and chucked it at the guy's face. THUD. The thug flinched, giving Zhang Ye just enough time to grab his arm and twist. SNAP!
"AHHH!" The thug screamed, clutching his dislocated shoulder.
"Three down," Zhang Ye muttered.
The last two hesitated, exchanging nervous glances. But before they could run
BANG!
A gunshot.
Zhang Ye froze. Liu Meng's breath hitched.
From the doorway, a sixth man stepped in. A gun in his hand. A smirk on his lips.
"Not bad," the man said, voice smooth. "You fight well. Too bad you're dead."
The gun lifted.
Zhang Ye's world slowed.
He moved.
But not fast enough.
BANG!
BANG!
Pain exploded in Zhang Ye's chest. His body jerked back, the force of the bullet sending him stumbling. His legs gave out, and he crashed against the counter before slumping to the floor.
Cold. It was so damn cold.
His ears rang. His vision blurred. He could hear Liu Meng screaming something, but the words didn't make sense.
Zhang Ye tried to move, but his body wouldn't listen.
The sixth man the shooter stepped closer, gun still raised. His smirk hadn't changed.
"Shame," the man murmured. "You could've been useful."
Zhang Ye's fingers twitched. His heart pounded weakly. Is this it?
He wanted to laugh. All that training, all those instincts... and I still die to some street thug? What a joke.
The world dimmed.
His thoughts slowed.
Then
Something hummed in his pocket.
Faint. Distant.
His vision swam, and for a brief moment, he saw it a black and white necklace pulsing with light. The old family heirloom. The useless thing his parents had left behind.
Except it wasn't useless.
Because now, it was glowing.
A soft whisper brushed against his ears. A voice. Ancient. Hollow. Powerful.
"You are not done."
Light exploded from the necklace.
And Zhang Ye's world vanished.
Zhang Ye's body felt weightless, like he was sinking into a vast, endless abyss. The pain in his chest faded. The ringing in his ears dulled.
Darkness swallowed him.
Then light.
Blinding, searing light burst through the void. Zhang Ye clenched his eyes shut as a surge of energy crashed over him, like an unseen force pulling him forward.
He heard whispers. Thousands of them, overlapping, speaking in a language he didn't understand. Some voices were deep and commanding, others soft and ghostly.
Then one voice rose above them all.
"Awaken, inheritor."
Zhang Ye's eyes snapped open.
He was falling.
Not through space, not through air through time itself. Images flashed around him. Mountains that pierced the clouds. Rivers that glowed like molten gold. Warriors clad in flowing robes, wielding swords that split the heavens.
A world ancient and alive with power.
Then
BAM!
Zhang Ye's back slammed against solid ground. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs. His fingers dug into damp soil, his body aching as he gasped for air.
The scent of earth and pine filled his nose. A crisp wind brushed against his skin.
He wasn't in the convenience store anymore.
He wasn't in his world anymore.
Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled.
A child's voice rang out, high-pitched and trembling.
"Brother! You're awake!"
Zhang Ye turned his head.
A little girl with wide, teary eyes knelt beside him, clutching his sleeve. Her clothes were tattered, her face streaked with dirt. But beneath the grime, there was something painfully familiar about her.
Memories flooded his mind. A name surfaced on his tongue.
"Xiao Lan…?"
His little sister.
But that was impossible.
His little sister had died years ago.