The wolf lunged.
Lin Feng screamed like a little girl, diving to the side at the last second. The beast crashed into a tree, shaking it to its roots.
"Ha! Missed me!" he shouted, though his voice shook. "Told you, Lin Feng never dies!"
He kept saying this cringey line as if reminding himself to not die.
The wolf snarled, shaking off the impact like it was nothing. Its golden eyes locked onto him again, filled with cold determination.
Lin Feng backed away, his bravado crumbling. "Or… maybe we call it a draw? You go your way, I go mine?"
The wolf growled, crouching for another leap.
Lin Feng turned and ran again, his lungs burning. "Why me? Why me?! I didn't even want to come to this stupid Isekai! I just woke up in a pile of corpses! This isn't how Main Characters start their stories!"
The wolf's growls grew louder, closer.
"Alright, heavens, if you're listening," Lin Feng gasped, dodging around a thicket of brambles. "I'd really appreciate some help right now! A miracle, maybe? A magic sword? Heck, I'll settle for a bottle of water!"
Suddenly he found his back slammed into a rocky outcrop, the jagged surface biting into his shoulders. He looked around and he was trapped.
On one side, a large wall of jagged stone. On the other, the hulking shadow of the wolf, golden eyes glowing with cruel snarl.
He clutched his knees, gasping for breath. "Okay, okay! Fine! You win! I admit it—I have terrible luck!"
The wolf stepped forward, slow and deliberate, savoring the moment.
Lin Feng raised his hands in desperation. "Wait, wait, wait! Let me say my piece first, alright? It's only fair!"
The wolf didn't seem inclined to grant him the courtesy.
"Come on, heavens! Really? This is how I go out? Dead in some random forest, eaten by a glorified mutt? No great battles, no treasures, not even a cool death scene? You call this an 'Isekai Protagonist' fate?"
The wolf crouched, its muscles ready to pounce.
"Oh, and don't think I forgot about you, wolfy! What's your deal, huh? You've got a whole buffet back there, but nooo, you had to chase me. Me! The skinniest, least-flavored guy in the realm! What are you, some kind of gourmet hunter?"
The wolf's lips curled back in a snarl.
"And don't get me started on my sect!" Lin Feng's voice rose as panic fueled his words. "Silver Ash Sect? More like Silver Trash Sect! Sending us here with fake weapons and traitor allies! They probably knew we'd die—stupid elders, stupid mission, stupid everything!"
The wolf lunged a step closer, saliva dripping from its fangs.
Lin Feng's arms flailed as he continued his tirade. "And this stupid body! What's the point of transmigration if I end up in the weakest body in the weakest sect? At least let me be OP! Give me some cheats, heavens! Anything! You owe me!"
The wolf leapt, its massive frame hurtling through the air.
Lin Feng froze, eyes wide. His life flashed before him—well, the life he barely remembered and the one he just inherited.
"Noooo—"
++BANG!++
The sound was deafening. The wolf's head exploded mid-air, spraying blood and gore in every direction. Its lifeless body crashed to the ground with a thud, twitching once before going completely still.
Lin Feng blinked, his ears ringing. Slowly, he looked down at his shaking hand.
Clutched in his grip was a Magnum revolver. Sleek, black, and impossibly out of place. Smoke curled lazily from its barrel.
"What…?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
He lifted the gun, turning it over in his hands. The weight felt real. The metallic surface was cool against his skin.
"Ouch!" But the barrel was still hot. He was a gun noob.
"Wha—where did this come from?!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "A gun? A freaking gun?! In a 'Wuxia world'?"
He stared at the wolf's remains, then back at the revolver. His mind raced, trying to make sense of the impossible.
"Did the heavens just… Did you—wait. Is this my cheat?!" He looked up at the sky, shaking the gun for emphasis. "A gun? Really? Not some divine sword? No mystical cultivation manual? A 'gun'?!"
His laughter burst out, high-pitched and slightly hysterical. "Oh, this is freaking_! Lin Feng, the first-ever cultivator with a gun! Guess what? Lin Feng 'really' never dies!"
The reality of the situation hit him a second later, and his laughter turned nervous. He looked around, half-expecting more wolves to show up. The forest had gone eerily silent, as if the bang had scared away everything within miles.
He tightened his grip on the revolver, suddenly feeling a flicker of hope. "Alright, alright. Maybe this isn't so bad. A gun's better than nothing, right? I mean, I've played enough games to know how this works. Aim, shoot, win!"
He did not play enough fps games or else he would not have said that.
His voice faltered as he stared at the bloodied mess of the wolf leader. The sheer power of the weapon in his hands was terrifying.
He glanced around the forest again, his nerves still on edge. "Right. Time to get out of here before something bigger shows up. And if anyone asks…" He twirled the gun awkwardly, trying to mimic a cool cowboy and nearly dropping it. "...Lin Feng never dies!
—----
Lin Feng stood over the mangled body of the wolf leader, gripping the Magnum revolver tightly. His heart pounded in his chest, and his legs screamed for him to run. But his feet refused to move.
The faces of his sect brothers and sisters flashed in his mind—bloodied, lifeless, sprawled across the hut floor.
He groaned, slapping his forehead. "No, no, no! This is a bad idea. A 'terrible' idea!" He pointed the revolver at the sky, as if scolding the heavens. "Don't make me feel guilty with the memories which are not mine!
His voice dropped to a mutter. "They're already dead. What can I do? Build them a shrine? Write them a poem?
He kicked at a rock, then winced when it hit his toe. "Stupid heavens, stupid guilt, stupid rocks—everything's stupid!"