The autumn wind cut through the mountain pass like a blade, carrying with it the metallic scent of approaching snow. Jin Tae-Won huddled closer to the campfire, watching his three companions through the flames. His fingers traced the sealed message hidden in his robes—another meaningless task for a worthless spy.

Song Min-ho, the eldest of their group, prodded the dying embers. Shadows danced across his weathered face, hiding whatever expression might have lurked there. "Two more days to the drop point."

Tae-Won nodded, suppressing a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. Two more days. Two more days of pretending he didn't notice the weight of their stares when they thought he wasn't looking.

"You should eat," Liu Mei said, passing him a wrapped bundle of rice balls. Her hands were calloused from years of blade work, but they'd been gentle once, showing him how to properly wrap his feet for long journeys, saving him from the blisters that had plagued him for years.

The food turned to ash in his mouth, but he forced it down. Ten years in the Heavenly Demonic Cult had taught him to never waste a meal—you never knew when it might be your last.

Young-Jin, dark eyes reflecting the firelight, broke the silence. "Remember when we first met?" His voice held an edge Tae-Won had never noticed before. "You were so lost. Like a child."

Tae-Won remembered. Remembered Young-Jin teaching him to move through crowds unseen, to blend into shadows. Remembered late-night conversations about dreams they'd never achieve, about the families they'd left behind. He'd been naive enough then to mistake instruction for friendship.

The blood curse embedded in his meridians pulsed, a constant reminder of his chains. Beside it, the qi disruptive curse the cult had added hummed its familiar, discordant note. Between the two, he couldn't even properly cultivate—not that he'd shown much talent for it even before the Jin Clan had cast him out.

"Tell us that story again," Liu Mei said softly. "About the merchant in Thousand Leaf City."

Something in her tone made Tae-Won's skin crawl. He'd been the cult's worst spy for ten years—perhaps he'd finally learned to recognize when a trap was closing.

The attack came without warning.

One moment they were gathered around the campfire. The next, a blade pressed against his throat, Young-Jin's familiar hand holding the hilt.

"I'm sorry," Liu Mei said, and she actually sounded like she meant it. "But we decided it's better if we deliver the intelligence ourselves. The cult doesn't need dead weight anymore."

"You..." Tae-Won's voice cracked. Not from fear—he'd known, hadn't he? Had seen it coming. But it still hurt. "You were my..."

"Friends?" Song Min-ho's laugh was cold as the mountain air. "A failure like you doesn't get friends. You get handlers. People assigned to watch you, make sure you don't mess up too badly."

"No hard feelings," Young-Jin's voice was soft in his ear. "But the cult has no use for a weak bastard who can't even cultivate properly. Think of it as... retirement."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The blade bit deep.

As Tae-Won fell, he could hear them discussing how to split the credit for the delivery. His blood soaked into the earth, and he thought of all the moments—the shared meals, the quiet conversations, the small kindnesses that had made his miserable existence bearable.

"Even the fake ones," he whispered, "were better than being alone..."

His vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges. The last thing he saw was text floating in the air before him:

[System Activation: User has been granted access.]

[Warning: Multiple impurities detected. Commencing cleansing.]

[Blood Curse detected... removing.]

[Qi Disruptive Curse detected... eliminating.]

[Corrupted cultivation base detected... repairing.]

The world went black.

When Tae-Won opened his eyes, he found himself staring at a familiar ceiling—the servants' quarters of the Jin Clan compound. The worn wooden beams, the faint smell of incense that always permeated the air...

"Hah," he laughed bitterly, pushing himself up. "Even in death, I'm dragged back to this hellhole? The heavens must really enjoy watching me suffer."

He stood shakily, moving to the small window. Outside, younger disciples practiced in the courtyard, their movements crisp and precise. Just like that day, ten years ago, when the clan had cast him out.

A series of messages appeared in his vision:

[System Quest: Defy Fate]

Objective: Survive and thrive against impossible odds.

Reward: True cultivation potential unlocked.

[System Notice: Expert Difficulty Mode enabled due to user's profound karmic debt.]

"Great," Tae-Won muttered, waving his hand through the floating text. "I've either gone mad or this is some new form of torture. Giving me hope just to—"

He froze. Something felt different. The constant burn of the blood curse, the disruptive hum that had plagued his meridians for a decade... they were gone.

[System Notice: Previous impurities have been cleansed. User's cultivation potential has been—]

"Whoever's playing this cruel joke," he said through gritted teeth, "I'm not finding it very funny."

[System Notice: User appears to be in denial. Initiating proof of concept demonstration in 3... 2... 1...]

Tae-Won's body lit up with pain, every meridian burning as if filled with liquid fire. He fell to his knees, gasping—and then, as quickly as the agony had come, it subsided. In its wake, Tae-Won felt something he hadn't experienced in over a decade: a renewed flow of qi coursing through his cultivation base.

His eyes went wide as he stared at his hands, watching the energy dance across his fingertips. "Impossible..." he breathed, a glimmer of hope igniting within him.

[System Notice: User's cultivation base has been restored and stabilized. Impurities have been purged. You have been granted a second chance.]

Tae-Won stood on shaky legs, a thousand questions racing through his mind. Why had he been brought back here, to the very place that had cast him out? What was the meaning of these strange messages and the power now thrumming within him?

He approached the window, peering out at the disciples training in the courtyard. Their movements were so effortless, so confident - a far cry from the stumbling, talentless wretch he had once been. But now...

Tae-Won clenched his fist, feeling the energy surge. "If this is real," he said aloud, "then I'll prove them all wrong. I'll show the Jin Clan that I'm worth more than their discarded trash."

His gaze hardened with determination. This was no mere dream or illusion - it was a second chance, a rare opportunity to defy the cruel fate that had been forced upon him. And he would seize it, no matter the cost.

[System Quest Updated: Defy Fate]

Objective: Reclaim your rightful place in the Jin Clan and become a cultivator worthy of their legacy.

Reward: Heavenly Cultivation Technique

Tae-Won took a deep breath, his mind racing with strategies and possibilities. The path ahead would be arduous, fraught with challenges and setbacks. But for the first time in years, he felt a glimmer of hope - and that was all the motivation he needed to begin his journey anew.