Forced to Be a Villain: Starting With My Brain Extraction System Chapter 4: First Loot

"But... what if I break your dantian?"

A devilish grin crept across his face as he abruptly questioned, his arm stretching toward Wu Kang and terrifying him out of his mind.

"What? You DARE..."

Wu Kang's fear spiked as Zhiran's reaching arm loomed nearer like the grim reaper's deadly scythe, causing him to briefly overlook that shattering a dantian counted as a far worse offense than murder inside the sect.

His condition remained utterly dire regardless, and should this lunatic actually follow through, his cultivation path would end right there.

How could terror not grip him?

"Don’t... fuck!"

Shouts fell on deaf ears; Zhiran kept advancing, his palm already nearing Wu Kang’s dantian.

The talisman blast had drained Wu Kang's spiritual energy completely just for survival.

Resistance was impossible now. Helplessly, with eyes brimming with horror, he watched Zhiran take full control.

Fear had already forced a warm trickle from his body, something Zhiran clearly spotted.

"Tch, tch... Big mouth like yours, yet you're pissing yourself in fright."

In the nick of time, Zhiran diverted his hand from Wu Kang’s belly, seizing the storage pouch from his waist instead.

A scornful smile lit his face as he eyed Wu Kang, gaze overflowing with contempt.

Back in his prior life, these thugs had pummeled him mercilessly due to his weaker realm.

Finally enacting the revenge he'd craved before, Zhiran savored deep satisfaction.

Murderous thoughts surged in Zhiran as memories of his pre-death betrayal flooded back.

Still, he understood that real moves demanded swift power growth first.

Despite loathing his clan brother, Zhiran conceded the guy was a freakish prodigy.

Breakthroughs and insights flowed to Tianyu effortlessly, like mere breaths... Reckless action would leave Zhiran crushed as a nobody yet again.

This rebirth gifted him past-life wisdom to exploit fully.

"20 low-grade spiritual stones and a Yellow Grade Sword. Nice."

Inspecting the storage bag revealed a delightful haul. Zhiran hadn't anticipated Wu Kang owning a Yellow Grade weapon.

In this world, weapons and artifacts were ranked:

Mortal Grade, Yellow Grade, Xuan Grade, Earth Grade, Heaven Grade, Saint Grade, Divine Grade, and Immortal Grade.

Yellow Grade marked the base tier for cultivators, yet few novices possessed one.

Zhiran, for one, held just three spirit stones after spending his savings on that expended trump card talisman.

Wu Kang proved somewhat richer, luckily.

His storage bag yielded merely five spiritual stones plus junk items, disappointingly.

"Well, better than nothing."

Zhiran stayed content enough, pocketing it all into his own bag while discarding the rest.

Pivoting, he headed to the corner to loot the storage bag of his initial attacker.

Expectations were low, yet he discovered another low-grade talisman identical to the one that demolished Wu Kang.

He glanced admiringly at the youth, impressed by such foresight.

Trump cards proved vital in the cultivation world.

Lacking them led to predicaments like Wu Kang's.

Delighted with the extra safeguard, Zhiran tucked it securely into his storage bag, rose, and strode out.

Disciples were already swarming outside, drawn by the commotion.

Loot secured, he abandoned the ruined cottage, aiming to exit the sect.

He knew precisely what day it was.

Today marked when clan brother Tianyu rescued a fleeing, wounded Divine Cauldron Sect elder from demons.

Zhiran pinpointed the elder's hideout for recovery.

The detail stuck vividly since the elder revealed it during the Inner Sect tournament a month hence in his last life.

At his zenith, that elder mentored Tianyu post his Inner Sect trial victory, smoothing his ascent.

Cold resolve hardened as Zhiran departed.

Reborn or not, his advantages remained scarce.

Without leveraging past knowledge for early gains, he'd never break free from his fated doom.

Heaven's favoritism toward Tianyu lingered in memory.

Thus, his foes included not just Tianyu, but fate itself.

Slacking was unthinkable.

"Cough... cough... bastard... my middle-grade Yellow Rank sword... give it back..."

Wu Kang spat blood in rage watching Zhiran depart with their loot.

Too late—Zhiran was gone. Only arriving outer sect disciples witnessed the aftermath.

"What... what happened here?"

Shock froze them at the sight: demolished cottage ruins and three bloodied men sprawled in disgrace.

Two out cold, one hacking up blood endlessly.

"Who did this?"