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the reborn of God of death

_sleepyhead
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Synopsis
"The Reborn of God of Death" follows the story of a young man who is the descendant of the God of Death. Despite his immense power, he hides his true capabilities, choosing to act weak rather than reveal his true strength. He faces challenges and hardships, yet is able to overcome them with his wit and intellect, slowly learning the responsibility and burden that come with being a deity. Through his journey, he discovers the importance of balance between life and death, and learns to use his powers wisely to help others rather than bring forth destruction.
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Chapter 1 - A shadow in the night

The dark streets were bathed in moonlight and shrouded in a thin veil of mist. From this shadowed alleyway, a lone figure emerged, his footsteps almost silent as he walked unnoticed among the few passersby. Dressed head to toe in black, the shadows seemed to cling to his form, hiding his features and giving him a mysterious air.

As he walked, the figure raised his head and scanned the street. Though his eyes were hidden beneath the hood of his cloak, he seemed to notice everything in his path.

No light glimmered from the windows of the small buildings lining the alley, leaving the man in a state of eerie serenity. Even the sounds of the city seemed muted, as if the dark figure had his own domain where nothing but his own footsteps could be heard.

Though the night was still and quiet, a sense of potential danger hung in the air. It was as if something or someone was watching, waiting for the slightest slip-up by the mysterious figure. But would he even make a mistake?

The mysterious figure had made his way deeper into the city's darkened alleys, his face still masked as he observed his surroundings through the thin covering of mist. As he approached a corner, he stopped and leaned against the wall, peering down the side street.

He stayed absolutely still for several moments, as if expecting someone or something to appear, until finally he relaxed and turned down the street. He was still on guard, however, and he continued to glance over his shoulder every few steps.

As he walked, he wondered what challenges lay ahead.

Though his steps were silent, every so often he could hear slight movements in the shadows. Though they were few and far between, they were enough to make him cautious. Perhaps something or someone was truly watching him. Or was it just his own paranoia playing tricks on him?

As he moved deeper into the side street, the darkness grew thicker. The moonlight couldn't penetrate the dense fog, leaving him in a seemingly pitch-black space. Yet he had no trouble whatsoever making his way across the street, almost as if he were relying on a supernatural sense of direction.

The mysterious figure kept walking through the darkness, his face still unseen beneath the hood of his cloak. He passed by empty shops and small residences, the only signs of life coming from occasional shuffling and whispering sounds. Though they were faint, they were enough to set him on edge and make him wonder what exactly was lurking in the shadows.

As he made his way past a particularly empty stretch of road, his pace slowed, his senses honed to the slightest movement. He had the distinct feeling that... something was following him.

The mysterious figure froze, his heart rate surging. He took a cautious step back, trying not to make a sound as the other figure inched closer. He tried to see through the darkness, but the shadows were just too thick.

In one swift move, he lifted his arm and drew a dagger from a holster strapped under his cloak. He stood still, watching the other figure come closer and closer, his heart pounding in his chest.

Suddenly, the other figure stopped, turning to face the mysterious figure.