A Dept Collected

The hallway was narrow and dim, the only light coming from a flickering bulb overhead. It buzzed softly as if warning the three men who now stood frozen in front of Lin Mo.

The largest of them—the one with the brass knuckles—stepped forward, eyes narrowed.

"You think you're some kind of hero now, brat?"

Lin Mo didn't respond. He simply took one more step into the hallway.

That was answer enough.

The thug scoffed. "Tch. Fine. You want to act tough, I'll—"

His arm moved.

So did Lin Mo.

Faster.

Before the man's fist could even rise, Lin Mo had grabbed his wrist, twisted it upward, and drove a knee into his ribs. The man gasped, the air knocked from his lungs, and then—without pause—Lin Mo drove his elbow into the man's face.

**Crack.**

Blood sprayed across the wall as the man collapsed with a dull thud.

The two smaller thugs blinked, stunned for a split second—and then lunged.

Lin Mo moved like water. Smooth. Controlled.

He sidestepped the first, caught his shirt, and slammed him into the doorframe. The second one swung a crowbar wildly. Lin Mo ducked, grabbed the man's belt, and flipped him over his back.

**Three seconds. Three moves. Three bodies on the floor.**

None of them were unconscious, but none were getting up.

Lin Mo stood over them, face calm, voice low.

> "Tell your boss this debt is paid. If he sends anyone again, I won't stop at broken bones."

The first thug clutched his nose, blood dripping between his fingers. "You… you're a freak…"

Lin Mo leaned down.

> "No. I'm just getting started."

He turned and stepped back inside the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

---

His mother stood in the hallway, clutching the wall, eyes wide.

"Mo'er… you… What happened to you?"

"I protected you," Lin Mo said quietly, brushing the dust off his shirt. "That's all that matters."

She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came. Only tears welled up in her eyes.

He smiled gently and guided her to the couch.

> "You don't need to be afraid anymore. Not of debt collectors. Not of anything."

---

That night, after she had fallen asleep, Lin Mo sat in the center of his room with the lights off.

Silence filled the space.

But he wasn't at peace.

He felt the pain in his bones again. Not from the fight—but from the weakness.

> This body was too fragile.

He couldn't afford to wait. He needed strength. Real strength.

He knelt beside the wooden floorboards and pressed his palm to the ground.

There it was.

A faint ripple in the spiritual current.

Just as he remembered.

This place sat atop a **micro-spirit vein**—a remnant of an ancient ley line long forgotten by the world.

To most people, it was useless.

To him, it was hope.

He sat cross-legged, straightened his back, and drew in a deep breath.

> *"Start with the bones. Break them down. Reforge them in spirit."*

It was a slow, painful process.

There was no system. No instant breakthroughs.

Just breath. Pain. And focus.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. His teeth clenched as heat surged through his spine. His vision blurred, and the floor beneath him trembled faintly.

His muscles twitched.

His skin itched.

His heart beat stronger.

For the first time in this new life—his **cultivation had begun**.

---

But just as he was beginning to stabilize his breathing, a sound came.

**Knock. Knock. Knock.**

Three soft taps on the door.

His eyes snapped open. The qi he had just gathered scattered in an instant.

Who the hell would be here at—

> "Lin Mo…?"

A girl's voice. Soft. Unsteady.

He stood and opened the door.

There, standing in the hallway with messy hair and watery eyes, was **Qin Yue**—his quiet classmate from 3-B.

In his past life… she had died in an accident he barely remembered.

But now, she looked terrified.

She held a torn flyer in her hands, and behind her, the shadows seemed darker than they should be.

> "My little brother's gone," she whispered, voice cracking. "And I think someone… took him."