Accustomed To Blood
Lin Shu returned to his rundown house beneath the pale moonlight. The door creaked open, revealing the cold emptiness inside.
He knelt by the corner where the floor tiles were cracked and loose. Carefully, he lifted one, revealing a small hollow beneath. From his pocket, he took two of the three copper coins and the rusted pendant — the only wealth he had ever owned.
He stared at them for a moment — the reward for his first kill.
Not enough... but a start.
He buried the coins and pendant beneath the tile, pressing it back into place.
The last copper coin remained in his palm — warmth slowly fading from the blood that had stained it hours ago. He clenched it tightly and slipped his makeshift knife into his sleeve before leaving once more.
The forest stream was deep enough to wash away the blood. Before stepping in, Lin Shu glanced left and right — checking the shadows, making sure no one had followed him.
Only when he was certain he was alone did he strip off his rags and wade into the icy water.
The cold bit into his skin, but he endured it — just like he endured everything else. He scrubbed at the dried blood on his arms, watching the water turn red before fading downstream. The stains wouldn't fully come out, but that didn't matter.
His hands no longer trembled.
Once clean, he returned home, slipping into another set of torn clothes — no better than the ones he'd bathed in. The bloodied rags were hidden beneath loose floorboards — they'd become his killing clothes.
One set to live in.
One set to kill in.
He could have hunted another victim that night... but he stopped himself.
Recklessness would only get him killed.
For now, one copper coin was enough to fill his stomach.
Tomorrow... there would be more nights. More bodies. More wealth.
Lin Shu stepped out into the town's dimly lit streets, hunger gnawing at his stomach.
The first step had been taken — and the second would come soon enough.
After spending his copper coin on a loaf of stale bread the night before, Lin Shu returned home and slept until dawn.
When morning came, the hunger in his stomach had lessened — but not the hunger in his heart.
He wandered back into town, hands stuffed into his ragged pockets. As he walked, his mind turned to the next step — weapons. If he wanted to hunt blood beasts or ambush hunters in the forest, he'd need something better than a piece of glass bound to wood.
He decided to try his luck at the blacksmith.
The forge's hammer echoed through the streets — a steady rhythm of iron striking iron. The heat wafting from the small shop made the chill morning air feel warmer. Lin Shu stood at a distance, watching the sparks fly with cold, calculating eyes.
He didn't dare interrupt. Looking like a homeless street rat was already enough reason to be chased away — annoying the blacksmith would only seal that fate.
Minutes passed before the man finally paused his work, wiping sweat from his brow. His sharp gaze flicked toward Lin Shu, already looking ready to dismiss him.
"What do you want, kid? Go play somewhere else."
Lin Shu bowed slightly — a gesture he'd seen beggars use to avoid being kicked.
"Hello, sir. May I ask you something?"
The blacksmith raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering for a moment.
"Ask."
Lin Shu's voice remained steady.
"How much for a bow and arrows? Or... a knife. Maybe a machete."
The blacksmith snorted, turning back to his work.
"Twenty copper coins for a bow. Two copper coins per arrow. Six for a knife. Ten for a machete."
Lin Shu clenched his fists at his sides.
Too much.
That kind of money might as well be gold for someone like him.
He bowed again, forcing the frustration down.
"Thank you, sir."
The blacksmith didn't spare him another glance.
As Lin Shu walked away, his mind raced.
Is he overpricing his goods? Or is that just how much weapons cost?
He couldn't know for sure. The other blacksmiths always chased him off before he could even speak. This man was the only one who bothered to answer.
It didn't matter. Whether the price was fair or not... he had to pay it.
With the few coins he'd hidden away, he'd barely scratched the surface.
Lin Shu's gaze darkened as he slipped back into the alleyways.
He needed more money.
More kills.
He would start small — beggars, drunkards, the forgotten.
Copper by copper, he'd crawl his way to power.
And once he had the weapons in his hands...
He'd stop crawling.
He'd start hunting.The thought of stealing directly from the blacksmith crossed Lin Shu's mind — but he quickly crushed it.
It was too risky... and too stupid.
If he got caught, they wouldn't bother asking questions — they'd beat him half to death or hang him from a tree. He was just a homeless kid. No one would care if he disappeared.
He would be caught easily.
He wasn't strong enough to break a lock or fight off a guard dog. He didn't know how to sneak into a shop without making noise.
No...
He had set rules for himself — rules that would keep him alive.
Steal from the weak. Kill the unwanted.
The strong... he'd avoid for now.
Everything had to be done slowly — without drawing attention. One mistake could bury him deeper into the filth he was trying to crawl out of.
Lin Shu's cold gaze swept across the streets.
The slums were full of prey — beggars too weak to fight, drunkards too lost to notice, cripples no one would miss.
If he followed his own rules, he'd survive.
He would accumulate copper bit by bit.
Copper would become silver. Silver would become gold.
And one day...
Gold would become his key to cultivation.
Lin Shu took a deep breath, eyes narrowing.
The next night... he would kill again.
No turning back.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the town.
Night came — and with it, Lin Shu's second hunt.
He followed his usual routine, taking several detours through narrow alleys to make sure no one followed him. This time, he chose a different killing ground — far from where he'd made his first kill.
He'd already decided.
Never kill in the same place twice.
The slums were full of superstitious fools. If word spread of a corpse found in an alley, people would avoid the area. And where there were fewer people, there were fewer prey.
Lin Shu crouched behind a stack of crates, wrapped in shadows.
It didn't take long to spot his next victim — a middle-aged drunkard, mumbling nonsense as he relieved himself against a wall. The stench of liquor filled the air.
Lin Shu narrowed his eyes.
The man was taller than him — too tall to grab by the neck easily. He clenched his knife tightly, thinking through his options.
" Tackle him then knock him out by smashing a rock on his head " thought Lin Shu.
Yes... that was the better choice.
His dark eyes scanned the ground, quickly finding a fist-sized rock. He slipped it into his free hand and waited, heart pounding steadily in his chest.
The drunkard finished his business, picked up his half-empty bottle, and staggered forward — completely unaware of the small shadow lurking nearby.
Lin Shu's breath slowed.
He waited.
Step by step, the man passed by...
Now.
Lin Shu lunged from the darkness, throwing his full weight at the man's legs. The drunkard stumbled, crashing to the ground with a muffled grunt.
Without wasting a second, Lin Shu raised the rock and smashed it against the back of the man's head. The drunkard groaned — not fully knocked out, but dazed enough.
Lin Shu's knife flashed in the dim light.
The glass blade bit into the man's throat — once, twice — until blood sprayed out in hot bursts. The man's half-formed scream died in his throat, reduced to the same wet gurgling as the first victim.
Even as the body twitched, Lin Shu stabbed again and again — just like before — making sure he was dead.
The trembling in his hands was still there... but weaker than last time.
He was getting used to it.
Lin Shu quickly searched the corpse, finding only two copper coins.
Not enough. Never enough.
The man's clothes were worthless, and Lin Shu couldn't waste time stripping him. His heart thudded in his chest — the faint scream from earlier echoed in his ears.
Someone might have heard.
He grabbed his knife and ran, not even bothering to hide the body.
This kill was sloppier than the first.
But it was still a step forward.
By the time he returned to his rundown house, two copper coins clinked in his pocket — the second offering to the hidden hoard beneath the floor tiles.
He wiped the blood from his knife and tucked it away.
Tomorrow night...
He would hunt again.