Leo Miller’s final thought on Earth was profoundly disappointing. It wasn’t a reflection on his twenty-six years of life, nor was it a warm memory of his family. It was simply: Of all the ways to go, crushed by a malfunctioning vending machine over a stuck bag of Doritos? Really?
His first thought in his new life was considerably more chaotic.
Why does every bone in my body feel like it was run through an industrial meat grinder?
Leo gasped, coughing violently as cold, metallic-tasting blood bubbled up his throat and dripped onto the mud beneath him. He was lying face-down in a damp ditch, the overpowering stench of rotting leaves, wet iron, and his own bruised flesh filling his nostrils.
He tried to push himself up, but his right arm sagged uselessly, the elbow bent at an angle that defied basic human anatomy. Pain hit him in waves—sharp, white-hot agonies that screamed from his shattered ribs, his cracked skull, and a ruptured internal organ or three.
Hold on, Leo thought, panic spiking through the fog in his mind. Did I survive the vending machine? Am I in a hospital in downtown Detroit? Did the paramedics dump me in an alleyway because my health insurance didn't clear?
Suddenly, the floodgates opened. It wasn't his own memories returning, but someone else’s, violently intruding upon his mind like a high-speed head-on collision.
Images flashed across his inner eyelids: majestic wooden pavilions with curved tile roofs, floating mountain peaks shrouded in mist, harsh men in embroidered silk robes, and the constant, suffocating humiliation of being a nobody.
The memories belonged to a kid named Xiao Long. Fifteen years old. The disgraced, illegitimate son of a maid and a low-ranking elder of the Xiao Clan—a prominent martial family in the Sunfall Region. Weak. Malnourished. Lacking any talent for spiritual cultivation. A perpetual punching bag for the clan’s legitimate youths.
And the reason Xiao Long was currently lying dead in a ditch?
Three copper coins.
He had refused to hand over his monthly living allowance to his cousin, Xiao Feng. In response, Xiao Feng and two of his lackeys had beaten the boy until his bones snapped, leaving him to bleed out in the dirt behind the clan’s outer training grounds.
The kid actually died, Leo realized, his heart heavy as he absorbed the lingering remnants of Xiao Long’s terror and despair. He died over eighty cents worth of copper. Jesus Christ.
Leo sighed, spitting another glob of blood into the dirt. Well, kid, I guess we’re in the same boat. Dying stupidly seems to be our shared specialty.
He tried to drag himself forward using his good arm, but his vision was already darkening around the edges. The cold creep of mortality was settling back into his fingertips. He had taken over the body, but the body was a sinking ship. He was going to die a second time in less than five minutes.
"Great. Reincarnated into a martial arts world just to speedrun dying again," Leo choked out, his voice a raspy, pathetic whisper. "Detroit was tough, but at least nobody beat me to death over loose change..."
Just as his consciousness began to slip into the void, a sharp, electronic chime chimed directly inside his brain.
[PING!]
[Fatal Damage Detected! Host Life Functions at 0.02%!]
[Universal Immortality System Initializing...]
[Binding Host: Leo Miller / Xiao Long...]
[Binding Successful!]
Leo blinked, forcing his swollen, blood-crusted eyes open. A brilliant, translucent gold interface was hovering in the air right before his face.
[Status Check:]
Host: Xiao Long (Leo Miller)
Age: 15
Realm: Mortal (Non-cultivator)
HP: 1/100 (Critically Dying)
Status: Pulverized, Malnourished, Severely Annoyed.
[Core Function Activated: Eternal Anchor (Passive)]
Effect: The Host cannot die permanently. True death is disabled. Any fatal blow will trigger instant physical reconstruction.
[First-Time Starter Pack Unlocked!]
Reward 1: Instant Body Restoration (Full Repair).
Reward 2: Cultivation Method: [Primitive Chaos Immortal Technique - Vol. 1]
Reward 3: Passive Skill: [Sarcastic Glare]
"Wait, what?" Leo mumbled.
Before he could process the text, a surge of fiery, gold-and-black energy exploded in the center of his chest. The pain was immediate, but instead of tearing him apart, it felt like a thermal blast cauterizing his wounds.
CRACK!
With a sickening pop, his broken elbow snapped back into alignment. The shattered ribs in his chest straightened out, his torn muscles knit together at visible speed, and the deep, purple bruises covering his skin faded into smooth, healthy flesh. His starved, frail frame expanded slightly, his posture straightening as vitality rushed through his veins like a roaring river.
Within three seconds, he went from a corpse in the dirt to feeling better than he ever had in his entire life on Earth. He bounced up, standing on his own two feet, rubbing his chest in utter disbelief.
"Holy shit," Leo gasped, taking a deep breath of fresh air. "No medical bills? No physical therapy? This system is better than Blue Cross!"
[PING!]
[System Notice: First Quest Generated!]
[Mandatory Quest: Face-Slapping Protocol - Stage 1]
Context: The trash who killed your predecessor is currently boasting about his 'victory' at the outer training grounds. This severely disrespects the prestige of the Immortality System.
Objective: Return to the training courtyard and deliver a maximum-effort slap to Xiao Feng's face.
Time Limit: 30 Minutes.
Completion Reward: +100 Chaos Qi, Low-Grade Spirit Pill x5, Unlocks [Body Refining Stage 2].
Failure Penalty: Host's pants will permanently dissolve into fine glitter, leaving you fully naked in public for 24 hours.
Leo stared at the floating golden panel, his mouth agape.
"Excuse me? Dissolve my pants into glitter?!" Leo yelled at the air. "What kind of twisted, sadistic AI programmed you? You could kill me! You could take away my stats! Why the pants?!"
[System Warning: Timer is ticking. 29 Minutes, 45 Seconds remaining.]
"Alright, alright! Damn!" Leo cursed, dusting the dried mud off his tattered, blood-stained grey robes. He stretched his arms, feeling a strange, warm hum circulating through his lower abdomen—what the memories identified as the Dantian. "A slap, huh? Back in Detroit, we usually handled disrespect with a tire iron, but a good old-fashioned bitch-slap works too."
The Outer Training Grounds of the Xiao Clan were bustling. Dozens of young boys and girls in crisp, white robes were practicing basic sword stances, punching wooden posts, or meditating under the watchful eyes of strict clan instructors.
At the center of the yard, surrounded by a crowd of eager sycophants, stood Xiao Feng. Sixteen years old, tall, and wearing a fine silk tunic trimmed with silver thread, he held a smug, arrogant grin on his face as he balanced three copper coins on his thumb.
"I’m telling you, the kid was worthless," Xiao Feng laughed, tossing one of the coins into the air and catching it lazily. "He wouldn't give up his allowance, so I gave him a little push. Just one Palm Strike to the chest! The weakling collapsed like a sack of wet flour and stopped breathing. Honestly, I did the clan a favor by cleaning out the trash."
The surrounding cronies laughed dutifully.
"Young Master Feng's Iron Mountain Palm is truly formidable!" one lackey praised.
"Indeed! Xiao Long was a disgrace anyway. A servant's bastard trying to live among us? He got what he deserved!" another chimed in.
Xiao Feng puffed out his chest, thoroughly enjoying the praise. "If his trash father complains, I'll just tell him the kid slipped and fell down a cliff. Who's going to care about a dead—"
"Hey! Silk Pants!"
A loud, drawling voice echoed across the noisy courtyard, instantly cutting through the chatter.
The training grounds fell quiet. Dozens of disciples turned toward the main entrance.
Walking casually through the stone archway was a figure that shouldn't have been walking at all. His grey robes were shredded and soaked in dark, dried blood, making him look like he had just crawled out of a mass grave. Yet, his chin was held high, his hands were buried in his sleeves, and he was chewing casually on a blade of sweetgrass, looking utterly relaxed.
Xiao Feng’s smile instantly froze. His eyes widened to the size of saucers. "X-Xiao Long?!"
The lackeys gasped, stumbling backward. "A-A ghost?!"
"What's wrong, buddy? You look like you've seen a dead guy," Leo said, stepping onto the polished flagstones of the training field. He looked around at the traditional Chinese architecture, the stone lanterns, and the terrified teenagers, shaking his head.
Under his breath, Leo muttered in plain English, "Man, look at this guy's stance. Flared elbows, weight completely on his front leg. Even a drunk bouncer in Michigan could double-leg takedown this clown in two seconds."
"What nonsensical gibberish are you muttering, trash?!" Xiao Feng snarled, his shock rapidly turning into humiliated rage. "How are you alive? I crushed your sternum!"
"Yeah, about that," Leo said, stopping about ten feet away from the bully. He spit out the blade of grass. "Your form is terrible, man. You punch like my grandma, and my grandma has been dead since 2018. If you're gonna beat someone to death, at least put some hip into it."
The surrounding disciples gasped. Is Xiao Long insane? Did getting hit on the head break his brain? How dare a lowborn cripple talk to Xiao Feng like that?!
[System Prompt: Quest Target Locked. Distance: 10 feet. Time Remaining: 12 Minutes.]
[Warning: Pants Integrity currently at 100%. Don't let it drop to 0%.]
"You... you little bastard!" Xiao Feng’s face turned bright red, veins bulging on his neck. "I don't know how you survived, but if you want to die a second time, I'll happily fulfill your wish!"
Xiao Feng stepped forward, his right hand glowing with a faint, yellowish light—the gathered Qi of the Body Refining Stage 3. He unleashed his proudest move, the Iron Mountain Palm, aiming straight for Leo’s face with lethal intent.
To the onlookers, the strike was a fast, terrifying blur.
To Leo, who was currently tapping into the dormant Primitive Chaos Technique provided by the system, Xiao Feng’s movement looked like a video playing at half-speed. The kid was leaning too far forward, his left side entirely exposed, his guard wide open.
"Too slow, Detroit style," Leo whispered.
In one swift, fluid motion, Leo ducked beneath the glowing palm strike. The displacement of wind grazed his cheek, but he didn't care. Pivoting on his heel, he swung his right arm in a wide, sweeping arc, channeling the warm, chaotic Qi surging through his core directly into his palm.
SLAP!
The sound didn't sound like a hand hitting skin. It sounded like a dynamite charge detonating inside a confined space.
The sheer kinetic force of the impact created a visible shockwave of compressed air. Xiao Feng’s face distorted instantly, his jaw violently twisting to the left as saliva, blood, and three broken teeth burst from his mouth.
Xiao Feng didn't just fall—he flew. His body launched sideways, spinning twice in mid-air like a broken helicopter blade, before crashing headfirst into a solid granite pillar ten yards away.
CRACK!
The pillar cracked. Xiao Feng slid down the stone, landing in an ungraceful, unconscious heap, his eyes rolled back, twitching occasionally.
Silence. Absolute, suffocating silence descended over the entire training grounds.
The instructors froze. The disciples stopped breathing. The two lackeys who had helped beat Xiao Long earlier dropped to their knees, their legs trembling so hard their knees knocked together.
The clan’s famous young talent... the Stage 3 cultivator... knocked out cold by a single slap from the clan’s known 'trash'?
Leo stood in the middle of the courtyard, shaking out his stinging right hand. He looked at the unconscious bully, then glanced down at his trousers.
They were still firmly intact. No glitter.
Leo let out a massive sigh of relief. "Thank God. My dignity lives to see another day."
[PING!]
[Quest Completed: Face-Slapping Protocol - Stage 1!]
[Evaluation: S-Rank (Flawless Execution, Extreme Disrespect Value).]
[Rewards Issued:]
+100 Chaos Qi (Direct Transfer)
Low-Grade Spirit Pill x5 (Stored in System Inventory)
Breakthrough Initiated!
A wave of intense heat erupted from Leo's spine, spreading rapidly throughout his limbs. His muscle fibers tightened, his sensory perception sharpened, and the ambient spiritual energy of the world suddenly became visible to him as glowing, floating specks of light.
[Congratulations! Host has advanced to: Body Refining Stage 2!]
Leo grinned, cracking his knuckles as he felt the newly acquired power humming under his skin. It wasn't just a physical upgrade; he felt lighter, faster, and infinitely stronger than he had ever been as a mortal accountant.
He looked around at the terrified disciples, who were all shrinking back from him as if he were a monster disguised in human skin.
"Listen up, folks," Leo called out, his voice smooth, confident, and echoing clearly across the yard. "The old Xiao Long is dead. I'm running things around here now. If anyone else wants to steal my loose change, step right up! But I gotta warn you..."
He flashed a bright, blindingly fake smile.
"...my slaps don't come with a refund policy."
Leaving the stunned crowd in dead silence, Leo turned on his heel and sauntered away toward his cramped, broken-down hut at the edge of the estate, humming a tune under his breath.
This strange, martial arts-obsessed world was brutal, corrupt, and completely insane. But as Leo looked up at the golden system interface floating in his vision, a slow, mischievous smirk spread across his face.
An immortal body, a broken system, and a world full of arrogant bullies waiting to be slapped?
Yeah, Leo thought, chuckling to himself. I think I'm gonna like it here.
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