Despite everything I'd learned about this land called Tensho, the Yurei clan remained a mystery. I was one of them — a ghost among ghosts — yet knew nothing about the people who owned my life.
Days blurred in this godforsaken cave. No sun. No moon. Just the steady flicker of candles and the damp, heavy air pressing down on me like a second skin.
Time meant nothing here.
From the moment I woke, every day was the same. I pushed my body until it felt like it would split apart, only to wake up and do it again. I didn't even touch Ki training in the beginning. The books said you needed a solid foundation or the backlash could cripple you. And this frail, half-starved body was nowhere near ready when I first arrived.
Now, though…
I flexed my hands. Lean muscle clung to my bones. My movements had grown sharper, tighter. My flexibility returned. It wasn't the body I had in my last life — not yet — but it was getting there. And that was enough.
A gourd in the corner of the room held rice seeds. More than enough to last ninety days, if rationed right. I barely touched it. Hunger was a good reminder. It kept me sharp.
My old assassin instincts were coming back.
At first, this body couldn't replicate my techniques. The muscle memory was there in my mind, but the flesh was too weak to keep up. Now, though… I could feel it.
And it was time.
I stepped to the center of the room and dropped into a stance. My muscles tensed, a familiar anticipation prickling in my chest. Then, I moved.
A flurry of strikes cut through the air — fists, elbows, knees. Each blow sharper than the last. A spinning kick. Another. A low sweep. I could feel the air shift with every movement.
Not bad. Not my old peak. But better.
A few hours of shadow fighting passed in a blur. Sweat clung to my skin, my breath ragged. I could push further. But it was time.
Time to awaken Ki.
I dropped to the cold stone floor, crossing my legs. The chill bit into my skin. Good. I needed that.
The books spoke of Ki like it was some sacred thing — life force, spiritual essence, power that flowed through all living things. For most, it remained dormant. Only the strong ever awakened it. And even fewer survived the process.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
I closed my eyes, trying to feel for something. Anything.
Minutes dragged into hours.
Nothing.
Not even a flicker.
My jaw clenched. What the hell was I doing wrong? I was sitting still, breathing slow — exactly as those goddamn books said.
Then it hit me.
If Ki was an internal force, why was I trying to draw it in? That made no sense.
What if I tried to pull it out?
It was the only thing that made sense.
I focused. Not on the world around me, but on myself. On the quiet places inside. On that gnawing hunger in my bones, that relentless, unyielding will to survive.
And then…
I felt it.
A pulse.
A faint, fragile thread deep in my gut, like a spark catching dry wood.
My heartbeat quickened. My limbs tensed. The spark grew.
And then — it exploded.
A searing burst of energy tore through me, raw and untamed. It was agony. Every nerve in my body screamed. But I didn't stop. I wouldn't.
I clenched my teeth, riding the pain, forcing my will against it. My veins felt like they were being set on fire.
A presence took shape in my chest — a dense, core-like weight.
The Silent Vein.
The texts spoke of it like myth. A hidden channel buried deep within, where unawakened Ki slept. Most never even sensed it. But I wasn't most.
I kept going, forcing the Ki through my meridians. I could feel it flood my limbs, setting my muscles alight. I visualized it like a river of molten gold rushing through narrow cracks, widening them with every surge.
Another pulse erupted, sharper this time. Stronger.
Control. I needed control.
Power without control is suicide.
I heard Olson's voice again, from my past life. A lesson carved into my bones.
I focused everything I had, willing the Ki to settle, to bend to my will. It wasn't perfect — the flow was erratic, violent — but it was mine.
When I finally opened my eyes, my whole body felt… different. Lighter. Sharper.
I flexed my hands. The skin was tight over new muscle. My breathing came easier.
Stage one: body reconstruction. Just like the book said. The moment your Ki core awakens, it begins reshaping you. Breaking you down. Rebuilding you.
I could feel it now — Ki, flowing through me like a restless current.
I stood and shifted into a stance.
Let's see what this body can do.
I willed Ki into my legs. A strange, tingling warmth spread to my feet. I grinned.
Then — I moved.
A burst of kicks carved through the air, faster, cleaner. The room seemed smaller now. My body sharper, stronger, more responsive.
This… this was power. The kind of power my old world could never touch.
Another move.
I shifted my stance, ready to push it further — when a loud creak echoed through the chamber.
The entrance.
I tensed, instincts flaring.
Was it time? Ninety days already?
No… couldn't be.
How long had I been meditating? What day was it?
A figure stepped through. The same bald bastard from before. His expression unreadable, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He clutched his nose like something stank.
"Oi, brat," he grunted. "I see you've awakened your Ki."
I didn't answer, just glared.
"Good," he said. "You ready for the first trial?"
My stomach knotted.
Trial? Already?
"How long's it been?" I asked, voice low.
"Two months," he replied.
Two… months?
What the hell were they planning?