Within a dark and damp forest, loud growls reverberated through the trees. An eerie silence followed each howl and growl, spreading a chill across the air.
"Will you just hurry up and use your fire spell?" came the husky, slightly intoxicated voice of a fat, dirty-looking man standing beside a carriage.
"Shut up and keep your voice down, you pig! What if your disgusting voice attracts some monster?" hissed another man, slimmer than him, as he relieved himself onto a pile of dead bodies in front of him.
"Why did we take this job in the first place? Corpse cleaning isn't our thing, you know. We should've just dumped them outside some village," the fat man muttered, clearly uneasy about being inside this forbidden forest that lay beyond their kingdom's border.
Dead Majins—even burned ones—could spread epidemic plagues. But more than that, Majins (those demon spawns) didn't deserve a single inch of land to be laid to rest within their kingdom.
Still, it was a high-paying job.
Zip.
"Ahh, what a relief," said the fat man as he returned to the carriage, picked up a fire stick, and threw it at the pile of bodies.
"Use a fire spell? Like hell I'll waste a single drop of Mana on these dead monsters," scoffed the slimmer man, spitting on the ground.
The fat man climbed onto the carriage without another word, while the slim man sat in the passenger seat.
"Hyaah!" With a flick of the reins, the fat man urged the horses forward, and the carriage sped away from the godforsaken forest.
But they didn't notice that, within the burning pile of bodies, a young and bloodied face slowly emerged—unbothered by the flames above him. Like an apex predator, his crimson eyes watched the carriage disappear into the darkness.
Once the carriage was gone, he crawled out from the burning pyre. But before he could run and follow them, a low growl stopped him in his tracks.
His body tensed. He didn't make any sudden movements, nor did he turn to look.
He didn't need to.
A beast's shadow loomed on the other side of the pyre—most likely a wolf or some kind of hyena.
Strangely, he felt no fear. His mind didn't go numb, nor did it panic.
It was calm.
Way too calm.
His senses went into overdrive. He didn't know what kind of beast it was, nor what level it might be. But logically, no high-level beasts should be lurking on the outskirts of the Majin Forest.
All of these thoughts flashed through his mind in just a single heartbeat.
Such perception.
Even though he was clearly different from humans, he looked human-like. Much taller and broader than a typical teenage boy, he resembled a barbaric youth—simple in appearance but with pointed ears, sharp canine teeth, and a distinguishing, slanted third eye closed on his forehead.
He hadn't exactly been reincarnated into this world. It was more like he had awakened the memories of a past life when he was born—memories of living on a planet called Earth.
And not just memories. He had awakened the experiences of a special forces soldier and an intelligence agent from that past life.
Until now, he had been lying hidden beneath the corpses of fellow Majin slaves of various races, slowly assimilating his past-life memories and integrating them with his Majin-Asura instincts.
His warrior-like upbringing and mental discipline harmonized with the instincts of his current bloodline.
That's what made his race different. A natural warrior race—not slaves.
As expected of humans. Honor and all that morality bullshit—nothing more than a manipulation tool.
He had inherited not just hand-to-hand combat skills, but also modern warfare tactics, political cunning, and psychological strategies. He had been raised in a traditional religious family back on Earth, with teachings of spirituality—meditation, prayer, and something called yoga?
He didn't quite know what yoga was, but meditation sounded cool.
Grrr…
The beast growled again as it slowly circled around the pyre.
The wind shifted.
The beast lunged.
But instead of dodging to the side, the boy darted through the burning pyre, catching the beast off guard and breaking its momentum.
The flames from the burning corpses scorched the beast's fur, forcing it to recoil with a pained yelp.
The boy took off.
The chase had begun.
Even while sprinting, the boy didn't tire. He felt a surge of endless vigor coursing through his veins, alongside a rush of adrenaline.
There was no panic. No despair. No fear.
His red eyes narrowed into slits, adapting to the dark, darting left and right—analyzing terrain, mapping routes.
Not to survive.
To win.
Win or die.
That was what his bloodline screamed at him.
At first, he had ignored these feelings—clinging to the teachings of his parents.
But now, embracing it?
It felt… liberating.
He started weaving between trees, using their cover to break the beast's rhythm. Before long, the low-level predator began to tire from the excessive movement, and the boy started to pull ahead.
And then—
He stopped.
No gasping for breath.
No victorious smirk.
Just silence. His head bowed.
Memories surfaced—of his parents being beaten… his mother violated.
The sickening laughter of those hairless apes.
Vermins draped in shiny robes, full of hubris.
The false gods they worshipped. Their so-called champions.
"Heroes"—who used Majins as meat shields and spell-test subjects.
Every memory pierced his soul like an arrow.
What "way of life"?
No. I am not a slave… not anymore.
The beast saw the boy stop and seized the opportunity. It charged, pouncing with full force—
But the boy didn't dodge.
He simply turned his head.
And the beast, mid-air, froze.
Something primal stirred in its soul—a pressure so unnatural, so suffocating—it fainted mid-leap.
BAM!
The beast's limp body hit the ground, landing near the boy's feet.
He didn't even glance at it.
He looked up instead—at the glittering night sky, rage burning in his eyes.
> "I am Shunya.
A pure-blooded Asura.
I will definitely overturn this world—no, this entire Cosmos."
Then, he turned his gaze toward the darkness—the heart of the forbidden Majin Forest.
His first conquest.
With the intention of dominating it.
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