Chapter 2 - No One Is Worth Saving

Silence settled over the forest.

The cold wind carried the scent of blood and pine.

The young woman staggered toward Mo Wuchen, her trembling hands clutching the jade box as if it contained her entire future.

"Please..." she whispered. "Help me."

Behind her, the three disciples emerged from the trees with drawn swords.

Their robes marked them as members of a minor cultivation sect.

The tallest among them laughed.

"So that's where you ran."

His gaze shifted toward Mo Wuchen.

"A beggar?"

He sneered.

"Boy, step aside. This doesn't concern you."

Mo Wuchen slowly rose from the ground.

His black robe swayed gently in the wind.

His expression remained unreadable.

He looked at the frightened girl.

Then at the three disciples.

No anger.

No sympathy.

Only calculation.

The girl suddenly stepped closer.

"If you protect me, my family will reward you. Spirit stones... cultivation manuals... anything!"

The three disciples laughed.

"You actually think a starving beggar can save you?"

Mo Wuchen finally spoke.

"You all talk too much."

The forest became quiet.

The disciples frowned.

"What did you say?"

Instead of answering, Mo Wuchen took one slow step backward.

His movement caused all four of them to instinctively glance toward him.

That single moment was enough.

The girl's grip on the jade box loosened slightly.

One disciple shifted his footing.

Another lowered his guard.

Every unnecessary movement became information.

His former life had taught him one lesson above all others.

People revealed their weaknesses while speaking.

Corpses did not.

...

The leading disciple rushed forward first.

His sword flashed through the air.

Fast.

But predictable.

Mo Wuchen twisted his body just enough for the blade to miss his throat by a fraction.

At the same instant, he grabbed the disciple's wrist.

Using the man's own momentum, he threw him directly into the second disciple.

The two crashed together.

Before either could recover—

Mo Wuchen picked up a broken tree branch from the ground.

It wasn't a sword.

It didn't need to be.

He drove the sharpened end into the throat of the nearest disciple.

The man's eyes widened in disbelief.

He collapsed without another sound.

The remaining two reacted instantly.

"Cultivate—"

Before the warning could finish, Mo Wuchen kicked the fallen sword toward himself.

The blade slid across the frozen ground.

He caught it effortlessly.

Now armed.

Everything changed.

The second disciple attacked recklessly.

Steel collided.

Sparks burst into the air.

Mo Wuchen had never used spiritual techniques.

But swords...

Swords were universal.

Distance.

Timing.

Balance.

Those principles never changed.

Three exchanges later—

The disciple overextended.

A single opening.

Mo Wuchen stepped inside the man's guard.

One clean strike.

The disciple fell.

The forest returned to silence.

Only the leader remained.

His confidence had vanished.

"You..."

"You're just a mortal!"

Mo Wuchen tilted his head slightly.

"And yet you're afraid."

Fear spread across the disciple's face.

He turned and ran.

Mo Wuchen did not chase immediately.

Running prey made predictable choices.

The disciple sprinted between two ancient trees—

Exactly where the roots broke through the ground.

His foot caught.

His balance failed.

Mo Wuchen appeared behind him almost silently.

The disciple barely had time to turn before the sword flashed once.

The body collapsed onto the frozen earth.

...

The young woman stood motionless.

Her face had turned pale.

"You..."

"You killed them..."

She took several cautious steps backward.

"I... I can still reward you."

"I swear."

"My clan—"

Mo Wuchen interrupted calmly.

"Why were they chasing you?"

"They wanted the inheritance."

She raised the jade box.

"My master entrusted this to—"

"Liar."

Her pupils shrank.

"You hesitated."

"I..."

"You lied before finishing the sentence."

His voice remained flat.

"The box belongs to someone else."

The girl's breathing became uneven.

"You don't understand..."

"I had no choice."

"They betrayed me first."

"I only wanted to survive."

Mo Wuchen nodded slightly.

"So did I."

Before she realized what he meant—

His sword moved.

One strike.

The jade box slipped from her hands.

She stared at him in disbelief.

"...Why..."

Her voice grew weaker.

"I asked... for help..."

Mo Wuchen caught the falling jade box.

"You asked the wrong person."

The girl collapsed.

The forest became completely silent.

Snow continued to fall.

Mo Wuchen stood among the five bodies without the slightest change in expression.

He looked at each of them only once.

Dead.

No further threat.

He crouched beside them and searched every body with practiced efficiency.

Three storage pouches.

A handful of low-grade spirit stones.

Several medicinal pills.

A worn cultivation manual.

A map.

A sect token.

Finally...

He opened the jade box.

Inside rested a single black fruit no larger than a fist.

Dark spiritual energy slowly circled around it.

"So this is what they killed each other for."

He closed the lid.

Human greed never changed.

Different world.

Same nature.

He gathered everything into one bundle before walking deeper into the mountains.

He never looked back.

The dead no longer mattered.

Only the living could become obstacles.

As the evening sky darkened, Mo Wuchen found an abandoned cave hidden behind hanging vines.

He entered cautiously.

No beast scent.

No footprints.

Acceptable.

After blocking the entrance with loose stones, he placed the spirit stones before him.

His sharp eyes settled on the cultivation manual.

Basic Qi Refinement Art.

He read every page.

Then read it again.

By midnight, he quietly closed the manual.

"It has flaws."

The breathing pattern wasted spiritual energy.

The circulation route was inefficient.

The author had accepted the method because it was tradition.

Mo Wuchen accepted nothing without questioning it.

If this world followed rules...

Then rules could be improved.

Outside the cave, snow continued to fall.

Inside, a pair of emotionless black eyes slowly closed.

For the first time since arriving in this world...

Mo Wuchen began cultivating.

Not as a disciple.

Not as a chosen genius.

But as a man who intended to rewrite the path to immortality itself.

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