[A/N: This novel is a work of pure fiction and is not intended to discriminate against or offend any religion, belief, or culture. Any resemblance to real events, people, or practices is purely coincidental.
If any part of this story makes you feel uncomfortable, please feel free to reach out to me.
Thank you for reading with an open mind!]
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"Om... Amen... Oh mighty gods, I beseech thee! Grant me a way out of this mess!"
"By Vishnu's grace, let there be a miracle. I'll do anything, just send me some divine intervention, maybe a magical chakra, a system panel, anything!"
The eighteen-year-old youth, dressed in simple white robes, knelt on the dirt, forehead pressing against the ground as his body contorted into unnatural positions.
His hands clasped together, trembling as he uttered every prayer, every chant, that came to his frantic mind. His voice rose in desperation, words of faith tumbling from his lips like a torrent.
"Hallelujah! Allahu Akbar! Buddha, help me out here!"
Each syllable spilled from his mouth, invoking the names of gods and saints from every corner of the world. Hindu deities, Christian saints, Buddhist bodhisattvas, he invoked them all.
He even murmured obscure names, deities he had once read about in forgotten books, unsure if they existed but praying with all his might. He was desperate, and his fervor only intensified.
Xie Ren had never been religious. In his previous life, the very idea of prayer had made him scoff. Superstition, he had thought. He had walked through life as an atheist, never once kneeling, never once whispering a prayer.
But now, in this world where the strong devoured the weak, strength was everything. With his life dangling by a thread, he clung to every shred of faith he could recall, his mind desperately scrambling for any divine force that might reach down and offer him salvation.
He could remember the exact moment his world had turned upside down, a decade ago. He had been transported to this world. Even worse, he had turned into a eight-year-old child.
That day, ten years ago, Xie Ren had blinked his eyes open to a blinding light. He had groggily tried to rise, his head hurting in confusion.
His hands pushed against the dirt, his body stiff as he tried to make sense of the world around him. As his vision cleared, he saw the stone and wooden structures of the street, their architecture unlike anything he had seen before.
What is this place? That was his first thought.
He sat up, rubbing his forehead. This wasn't Earth. There were no cars, no modern buildings, no familiar sounds of the city.
"Where... am I?" His voice cracked with confusion.
He scanned the surroundings, trying to find some clue to his location. A few people shuffled past, their faces tired, and their clothes worn.
His gaze settled on a beggar sitting on the side of the street, his back pressed against a weathered wall.
He walked over to the beggar and asked. "Hey, beggar brother, where am I? What day is it?"
The beggar didn't look up. His gaze remained fixed on the dirt beneath him, his posture unmoving. Xie Ren repeated his question. But the beggar only spared him a glance, an odd look crossing his face before he turned away and shuffled to a different spot along the wall, completely ignoring him.
Xie Ren blinked, stunned by the lack of response. What the hell?
Sighing deeply, Xie Ren leaned back against the rough stone wall, his mind swirling with confusion. This world, this inexplicable situation, everything felt so foreign. He had no idea where to begin. How could he even begin to understand what was happening?
But just as quickly as the thought formed, his stomach growled loudly.
"Oi, you!" just then a voice barked.
Xie Ren turned his head toward the sound, his heart skipping a beat when his eyes met the figure approaching him.
The man was tall, towering over him with broad shoulders that looked capable of crushing stone. And on his face, there was a long, jagged scar that ran from his forehead to his chin.
"What do you think you're doing, begging here?" the man asked with a displeased tone. "Did you ask permission to beg in this part of the street?"
Xie Ren's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and fear creeping into his chest. He wasn't begging!
"I... I'm not begging. I... just don't know where I am," he stammered, trying to explain.
But the man's lips curled into a sneer, his expression one of pure disdain.
"Doesn't matter," he spat. "You're in my territory now. If you want to survive around here, you better know your place."
Before Xie Ren could respond, the man's hand shot out like a vice, grabbing him by the collar. He was lifted off the ground with surprising ease, his feet dangling above the dusty street.
Xie Ren struggled weakly, his small body no match for the man's strength. The grip tightened around his neck, and he gasped for air.
"You should be more careful where you sit, little brat," the scarred man said. "Now, pay up."
"Pay up?"
Xie Ren's heart raced. Pay up? He had nothing, not a coin, not a scrap of paper. The only thing he had was the ragged cloth draped over his small body.
Desperation bubbled up inside him as he realized he was utterly powerless in this strange world, in this unfamiliar body. The man's grip was suffocating, and he couldn't fight back.
What do I do now?
He was trapped. There was no way out of this. This body of a eight-year-old was too weak, too small. He could hardly breathe, let alone fight back. He was at the mercy of this cruel stranger.
Just as the man seemed ready to escalate things as if to tighten his hold and punish him further, a voice cut through the air.
"What do you think you're doing with the kid?"
A figure appeared in the distance, his movements slow as he made his way toward the confrontation.
The sun had begun to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the street, but the figure remained unaffected by the fading light.
It was an old man, bent with age. Slung over his shoulder was a bundle of straw sandals, each one looking worn but well-maintained.
"It's that old man again…" The scarred man muttered under his breath, His sneer faltered as he saw the old man draw closer.
Without another word, the scarred man turned away, releasing Xie Ren.
Xie Ren, still shaken from the encounter, tried to steady himself, but his legs gave out beneath him.
He stumbled backward, nearly falling to the ground, but before he could crash into the dirt, the old man was there.
With surprising strength for his age, the man reached out and caught him, steadied him.
"You alright, kid?" The old man's voice was calm, almost warm, like a steady breeze that soothed the storm within Xie Ren.
Xie Ren blinked, still reeling from the encounter, and nodded, trying to catch his breath. "I-I think so. Thank you… you saved me."
That day, out of a mix of gratitude and necessity, Xie Ren followed the old man. After all, food and shelter were hard to come by in this unfamiliar place, and the old man had given him both.
To his surprise, the old man didn't seem bothered by his presence. The old man welcomed it, offering him food and shelter without a second thought. More than that, the man had even suggested, with a casual air, that Xie Ren could become his disciple.
The offer caught Xie Ren off guard. He was no fool; he knew the stories. He had read countless novels where transmigrated protagonists rose to power almost instantly, gaining unbelievable skills or receiving some deus ex machina that catapulted them to greatness. Why would he tie himself to an ordinary, unremarkable old man? The idea of apprenticing under him seemed ridiculous.
But then, the old man had dropped a single, unassuming sentence that made Xie Ren's heart skip.
"I am the 300th Sect Master of the Taishan Sect."
Xie Ren's eyes widened, and before he even realized what he was doing, he dropped to his knees. Without hesitation, he bowed deeply.
"Yes! Yes, please! A sect? I'll follow you anywhere!"
His mind raced. An ancient sect? This was exactly what he had been hoping for, a way to rise above his circumstances. If he joined, wouldn't he be set for life?
However, when he finally followed the old man to the Taishan Sect, his hopes quickly crumbled.
What he had imagined to be a grand, sprawling mountain retreat turned out to be little more than a collection of dilapidated thatched huts, barely standing against the winds of time.
Xie Ren stood at the entrance of the so-called sect, staring in disbelief. His mouth went dry, and his eyes twitched.
This was not what he had expected.
It didn't take long for him to realize, the old man had tricked him. The "sect" he had so eagerly joined was nothing more than a rundown, forgotten place.
It was later, Xie Ren found out that the scarred man was a buddy of his old master and those two had tricked him.