197, 198, 199, 200!!

The petite figure shot up from the ground.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Ouyang Ge let out a huge sigh of relief.

Three weeks had passed since Ouyang Shi left. This was a golden chance for Ouyang Ge. Just hours after the four Ouyang Clan members departed, he’d risen secretly to start rehab exercises.

He’d endured brutal training before, with deep knowledge of human anatomy. In days, he’d mastered this body—now as strong as any ordinary person’s.

Ouyang Shi’s persistent cooking had paid off. His body absorbed nutrients steadily; muscular atrophy had only trapped him. No more worries now.

Glancing up, the sun hung overhead—noon.

"Lunchtime," he muttered.

Grabbing a towel to wipe sweat, Ouyang Ge pondered his meal.

Ouyang Clan provisions? Inedible. Ruled out.

"Hunting wild game’s an option, but..." He stared at empty hands. "No weapons..."

Reality bit hard. Alone, he couldn’t get weapons from the clan. Labeled immobile, walking into their weapon shop would raise alarms.

"Self-reliance stage. But I need at least a dagger..."

No allies, no cash, no materials. Even with supplies, his eight-year-old limbs couldn’t craft anything.

Past or present life, Ouyang Ge had zero Magic aptitude. His old "magic" felt more like a curse—its principles utterly mysterious, even to him.

He raised his right arm, eyeing the eerie Reaper Tattoo.

"What are you... dragging me back without consent? To grant a wish?"

Unanswerable. He shook it off, focusing on lunch.

"Outside should be safe..."

A perfect spot came to mind—food and maybe a weapon! He headed for the nearby wall.

Ouyang Ge lived on the Ouyang Clan’s outermost edge—physically and spiritually forgotten. No visitors, no care. The wooden hut existed only because Ouyang Shi begged Clan Head Ouyang Long for shelter.

Past memories flooded back: total immobility made childhood hell. Unable to stand or lift arms, Ouyang Shi did everything. He’d drowned in guilt toward his sister then...

Not this time. He was strong now!

—Whoever dies, my sister must live!

Clenching fists, Ouyang Ge scaled the low wall, stepping beyond the clan.

.........

......

...

The Ouyang Clan ruled Shan Yuan—a plains city backed by mountains. Their territory sat north, near the peaks. Granted vast lands by past emperors, they were the "city within a city," true local emperors.

Ouyang Ge sprinted out. His trained body handled daily tasks easily—walking, running, lifting, jumping.

Tracing his sole childhood outing memory, he followed a deserted gravel path, circling to Shan Yuan’s east gate.

Modern roads webbed the south, east, and west exits—north held only wild mountains. The three gates buzzed nonstop: goods flowed in and out. Among the Unified Kingdom’s cities, Shan Yuan thrived on commerce, farming, air transport, and the famed Ouyang magical lineage.

"That’s why I hate reckless drivers..."

Hitching a highway truck, Ouyang Ge realized he’d boarded a chemical hauler. Hazardous materials lay exposed—driver’s negligence was shocking...

"If that alchemist girl were here, she’d geek out..."

Huddled motionless among chemicals, sunlight revealed the cargo. A past comrade flashed in his mind: a neurotic chemistry fanatic wielding Alchemy—one of the world’s top ten Magics—though she never made gold...

The truck slowed. Arrival. He shook off daydreams, quieting his breath.

Engine vibrations ceased. Men’s voices rose—routine entry checks, usually lax. Even for hazardous cargo, thorough searches were rare.

Cigarette smoke drifted as laughter boomed. The engine restarted.

"Another checkpoint cleared..."

Relieved, Ouyang Ge jumped off as the truck entered the city.

He stood on a bustling street. Modern roads hummed with cars and crowds.

—Loneliness struck deep...

Past-life wisdom told him he’d never be ordinary. Saving his sister meant blood on his hands...

"What’s with me today? Daydreaming again..."

His stomach growled—lunchless.

"Need cash first. Hmm... perfect plan..."

His target: city thugs.

He spotted flashy delinquents dragging a schoolgirl into a deserted alley.

........

....

"Hehehe, little sis, all alone? No friends?"

"Let big brothers play with you?"

"Hahahahaha!"

Sobs...

The uniformed girl backed away tearfully, surrounded by five leering youths—until her back hit the wall. She gasped.

"Kid, don’t fear. You’ll taste heaven soon..."

A pink-haired thug reached for her chest!

Whoosh!

His hand froze mid-air.

"Eh? Boss, what’s wrong?"

One thug stared at the motionless leader, puzzled. Others missed the girl’s shocked face.

Crack!

A knee strike smashed into a thug’s face—deforming it. He flew backward!

"Eh?"

Before reactions, another whoosh! A second thug clutched his knee, collapsing.

"There! Look!"

Someone pointed wildly at the ground—a sweeping leg kick slamming shins!

Aaah!!

Child legs shouldn’t topple adults, but Ouyang Ge’s strike dropped them screaming.

"You! Stay back!" The last thug waved a folding knife, voice trembling.

"So easy..."

An impatient voice cut off. The child vanished from sight!

"Waaah!!!"

Panic shattered the thug. He slashed wildly at empty air.

Futile. A third whoosh—his knife arm froze. He swayed, then fell.

"Barely a warm-up..."

Unharmed, Ouyang Ge tapped the pink-haired leader. The giant crumpled.

"You... you..."

The cornered girl stared curiously.

"Go. I’ve got work."

Ignoring her, Ouyang Ge rifled through the thugs’ pockets.

"Um... is this... not okay?" Her soft voice froze him. He turned, stunned.

"Not okay? Scared silly? They were assaulting you! Worry about them?"

"Uh... I..."

"Leave. Their buddies might come. I won’t save you twice."

"Eep!"

She bolted for the exit but paused, glancing back at Ouyang Ge still "working."

"Can... can I know your name?"

"..."

He froze completely.

"Ouyang Ge..."

Pocketing the "righteous loot," he vanished into shadows.

"Ouyang Ge..."

She smiled, sealing that face and name in her heart.

"I’ll remember you, mysterious little brother."

"Young Mistress!"

Black-suited women rushed in, encircling her protectively.

"Young Mistress, sneaking off like this? We’d lose our heads if you were hurt!"

"Hehe, won’t happen again!" She stuck out her tongue, radiating youth.

"Hurry back. The boss worries."

.........

....

..

Ouyang Ge, hidden nearby, watched her leave until the end.

"Who is this girl? Why so many bodyguards..."

Only after the girl vanished in an ultra-luxury sedan did Ouyang Ge dare to rise from his hiding spot. Years of practice had honed his stealth to near-perfection—he was certain of it. Yet that black-haired female bodyguard leader had clearly pinpointed his location. Her glare had stabbed straight at him, sharp as a blade.

No killing intent. Just a silent warning.

*Whatever. Payment’s in my pocket. Time to eat.*

Glancing once more at the five thugs slumped in the alley, Ouyang Ge shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled away like any ordinary kid, melting into the neon glow of the commercial district.

Of course, those thugs would wake up soon—once the pressure-point strikes wore off.

"Mmm... not as good as Sister’s cooking, but still delicious..."

Inside a modest Chinese diner, Ouyang Ge savored his first meal bought with honest money in years. No one batted an eye at a lone child dining out—just the usual puzzled glances wondering *Where are this kid’s parents?*

Lunch ended quickly. Stomach full, Ouyang Ge pushed open the diner door.

"Food sorted. What next..."

He drifted into the shopping crowds.

Four solid hours. Four hours of wandering. Memorizing police station locations. Mapping the city’s arteries. Most crucially—scouting safe hiding spots.

*Sigh. Is it just... too peaceful here?*

Not a single person radiated tension. Of course not. Only he knew the coming terror attack. Who’d believe a kid anyway?

Ouyang Ge froze mid-stride. His gaze snapped sideways—to the arcade.

*Unwind? Why not.*

Every boy deserved arcade memories. He’d never had any. Why skip them now?

—Constant vigilance was exhausting.

The shop buzzed with students in uniforms, hunched over machines after school. But one cabinet stood untouched: *Bullet Time*.

Ouyang Ge studied the screen. Simple rules: grip the pistol controller, shoot down every bullet flying at you. Easy at first—slow projectiles. But speed escalated with each hit, soon blurring past human reflexes.

"Fascinating..."

A chilling curve lifted the boy’s lips.