Chapter 40: The Final Breath
Jin's hands trembled as he held Edward Lee's lifeless body in his arms. Mei Lee's sobs filled the air, but all Jin could hear was the deafening silence in his heart. The eerie stillness was broken only by the heavy breathing of the man who had struck the final blow-the arrogant cultivator who exuded a malevolent aura. Fury surged through Jin, white-hot and blinding. He gently laid the old man's body down and stood up, his eyes locking onto the killer.
Without a word, Jin launched himself at the man, his fist cutting through the air like a bullet. But before he could land a blow, the enemy moved with lightning speed, countering Jin's attack with a brutal punch to his abdomen. The impact sent Jin reeling backward, his ribs shattering under the force. The pain was immense, but it only fueled the fire raging inside him.
The enemy sneered, clearly enjoying the torment he inflicted on Jin. "You're just like the old man-weak," he spat. "And you'll die like him, too."Jin gritted his teeth, his body already beginning to shut down from the immense damage. His vision blurred as he coughed up blood, his chest aching from the internal bleeding. The system's voice echoed in his mind, a cold and mechanical reminder of his perilous state.
[Warning: Critical damage detected.
Significant blood loss. Immediate action required.]
Jin felt his body weaken, his knees threatening to give out beneath him.
But there was no room for retreat. This wasn't just a fight anymore-it was vengeance. It was justice for Edward, for Mei, and for himself. With a surge of willpower, Jin opened the system shop, his fingers trembling as he spent 6 shop points on a skill that would turn the tide of battle.
The moment he confirmed the purchase, an overwhelming surge of power flooded his body. Every wound, every bruise, every broken bone was momentarily forgotten as his strength multiplied exponentially. A dark, ominous aura began to radiate from Jin, its oppressive weight filling the arena.
The cultivators in the audience gasped, backing away instinctively. Even the enemy, for the first time, seemed to falter.
Jin's eyes glowed with a murderous intent, and his bloodlust filled the air like a thick, suffocating fog. He moved faster than anyone could track, his first punch slamming into the enemy's chest and sending him flying back ten feet.
The man hit the ground hard, coughing up blood as he struggled to regain his composure. But Jin wasn't done. He moved again, his fists connecting with ruthless precision.
Each punch was delivered with unrelenting fury, each strike more brutal than the last. Jin's attacks were no longer calculated or controlled-they were savage, driven by pure rage. The enemy's face twisted in agony as he tried to block Jin's blows, but it was no use. Jin's newfound strength was too overwhelming, his speed too fast.
The man's ribs cracked under the onslaught, and blood poured from his mouth as Jin showed no signs of slowing down. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the arena as the enemy's body began to break under the relentless barrage. His arrogant sneer was long gone, replaced by a look of sheer terror.
But Jin didn't care. He didn't care that the man was begging for mercy, that his face was bloodied and unrecognizable.
All he could see was Edward's lifeless body, the old man who had treated him like family. All he could feel was the rage that consumed him, a darkness that threatened to swallow him whole. With one final punch, Jin drove his fist into the enemy's chest, the force of the blow cracking the man's sternum. The cultivator gasped, his eyes wide with horror as the life drained from his body.
His final breath escaped him, and he collapsed to the ground, motionless.
Jin stood over the corpse, his chest heaving, his fists still clenched. He had won. The enemy was dead. But as he looked down at the lifeless body, the satisfaction he had expected never came. Instead, there was only an empty hollowness inside him, a void that revenge couldn't fill. He dropped to his knees, not from exhaustion, but from a deep, soul-crushing despair. Blood dripped from his hands, but he didn't care. His face, once filled with fury, was now blank— empty, like a canvas stripped of all color.
Mei Lee rushed over, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around Jin, pulling him into an embrace. Her tears soaked his shirt as she clung to him, seeking comfort in the only person left to her. But Jin didn't move. He didn't return the embrace. He just sat there, staring at the ground, lost in the abyss of his own emotions.
The world around them seemed to fade away as they sat there in silence, the weight of their loss hanging heavy in the air. Edward was gone. The man who had introduced Jin to the world of cultivation, the man who had been a mentor and a friend, was dead. And no amount of bloodshed could change that. The scene shifted, the vibrant chaos of the arena replaced by the somber stillness of a funeral. Jin stood next to Mei Lee, both dressed in black, their faces pale and drawn. The sky above them was overcast, as if the heavens themselves mourned the loss of Edward Lee.
A small crowd had gathered to pay their respects, but it felt like the world was standing still. Jin stared at the flower-laden coffin in front of him, his heart heavy with guilt and sorrow. Despite all his strength, despite the system's power, he had been unable to save the old man.
As the priest spoke words of comfort, Jin's mind drifted. He thought of all the times he had trained with Edward, all the lessons he had learned. The old man had been more than just a martial artist—he had been a symbol of resilience, a guiding light in Jin's life. And now that light was gone. Jin's fists clenched at his sides as the reality of Edward's death settled in. The rage he had felt earlier was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of helplessness. He had killed the enemy, but what good had it done? It hadn't brought Edward back.
Mei Lee's quiet sobs pulled him back to the present. She stood beside him, her face streaked with tears, her body trembling. Jin reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder, offering what little comfort he could. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and pain.
The service continued, but for Jin, it was all a blur. He barely heard the words spoken, barely registered the faces around him. All he could think about was the old man, the man who had become like a father to him. And now, he was gone.
As the coffin was lowered into the ground, Jin felt a wave of finality wash This was it. Edward was truly gone. And no amount of strength, no amount of power could change that.