Worm (Parahumans #1) - Chapter 263: Sting 26.4

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.

After 20 years of dedicating his life to opera ever since he had quit the performing arts high school, he had failed at an interview. Losing his motivations, Jo Yunjae depended on alcohol to live out his days until one day, he had been sent back 20 years in time, to the day before his high school admission.

What does it mean to be invincible?

Many Sword Gods exhaust their entire lives attempting to cultivate a single supreme sword intent, yet Yang Xiaotian has cultivated fifteen!

For millions of years, no one has been able to cultivate the Primordial Heaven Destiny, but Yang Xiaotian has cultivated fifteen of it!

Throughout countless eons, no one has been able to cultivate the Primordial Universe Holy Fruit, yet Yang Xiaotian has cultivated fifteen!

Across the vast expanse of time, only the rulers of heaven and earth could cultivate the Eternal Divine Body, yet Yang Xiaotian has cultivated not only the Eternal Divine Body but also the Primordial Heaven Destiny Divine Body, the Primordial Universe Divine Body...

The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. I watched helplessly as the woman standing over me raised her sword. I was completely drained, I had no mana left, no items, nothing. As the crimson tendrils held me down by my arms and legs, all I could do was wait for my death.

As the sword drew near, I felt the last bit of courage I had disappear. I was going to die. Alone. In this god forsaken place filled with evil. And for what? To protect those ‘friends’? The same people who mocked me, took advantage of, and used me?

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I was here only because of my own greed. Because I wanted to be useful to someone. Because I wanted to that group to need me. To value me. To have a reason to keep me around. How naïve I was, thinking that power would grant those wishes. All it did was help build a wall between me and everyone else.

The sword approached. I saw the purple light reflect off the sword’s blade. After everything I went through, I hadn’t expected my death to be by the hands of another player. I saw her smile, but this time I didn’t think it was beautiful. It was an ugly smile because it was genuine. She was enjoying watching me die. She was enjoying killing me.

The sword struck my chest and pierced my heart. I let out a scream of pain and agony. The pain was so real, all of this was so real. It shouldn’t be, but it was. What should have been a simple game had become my new reality – all of our new reality. A reality filled with magic, war, blood, and death.

My vision darkened as the pain slowly faded. I felt the last of my vitality leave my body. It felt cold. I wondered to myself, when would I stop being? When would my thoughts disappear?

Soon, I saw those words I feared for all this time appear before me. “DEATH”, in the pale blue font the game always used. They remained suspended in the air for several seconds. It was over. After a long time of fighting, grinding, and exploring, it was finally over. I had died. This was the end of my story.

Suddenly, words before me shifted and changed into something different. I took a shallow breath as I heard a faint heartbeat.

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