A God Cultivator Reborn in the Modern Age

8.

Djanu stepped forward first, followed by Abel and Ruyan, who spread out in a half-circle.

A formation painfully familiar to the original body’s memories.

Back then, the original owner of this body always stood in the center of that circle—head lowered, trembling in fear, silently enduring the bullying until his entire body was covered in wounds.

But now, the positions were reversed.

The Alex of today was no longer a loser.

He was a former God Cultivator, once revered across countless regions of the Immortal Realm.

“So you dare challenge us here,” Abel said coldly. “This place… wasn’t it always the graveyard of your dignity?”

Alex smiled faintly—a smile utterly devoid of emotion.

“That’s exactly why I chose this place,” he replied calmly. “So you can experience again what you used to do.”

Djanu snorted. “Bullshit. You think answering a lecturer’s questions makes you someone important?”

He lunged forward instantly, his fist shooting toward Alex’s face, powerful and filled with force.

But the punch stopped abruptly in midair.

Alex caught it with one hand—just like earlier in class—only this time, there was no one around to stop him.

“Y–You…” Djanu’s eyes widened.

Alex didn’t answer. He twisted Djanu’s wrist with a smooth motion—precise, yet cruel.

Crack!

The sound of dislocated bone rang out clearly.

“Aaaaaargh!” Djanu screamed. His body trembled as his knees slammed into the ground.

Alex didn’t stop. He shoved Djanu’s head into the wall—not too hard, but enough to leave him dizzy—exactly the way they used to do it.

BAAANG!

“This is for every time you forced me to kneel here,” Alex whispered beside Djanu’s ear.

Ruyan didn’t hesitate either. He attacked from the side, a kick aimed at Alex’s ribs.

But Alex seemed to have anticipated it.

He took a half-step turn, letting the kick miss, then swept Ruyan’s legs from behind.

Thud!

Ruyan’s body crashed to the ground. Before he could get up, Alex stepped on his back, pressing a nerve point along the spine.

Ruyan’s body convulsed. His muscles stiffened completely, unable to move.

“I remember,” Alex said flatly. “You were the one who liked stepping on my head the most when I was already down.”

Abel finally moved.

Unlike the other two, he didn’t charge blindly. He picked up a small stone from the ground and hurled it toward the back of Alex’s head.

“You really have changed,” Abel sneered. “But don’t forget—I never fight fair.”

The stone shot through the air.

Alex didn’t even turn around. He simply raised his hand and pinched the stone between two fingers.

HAAAAP!

Abel’s expression froze.

“A cheap trick,” Alex said.

In the blink of an eye, the distance between them vanished. Abel only felt a dark blur before Alex’s palm slammed violently into his chest.

Baaaaam!

Abel’s body flew backward, crashing into a park bench and shattering it.

Alex walked toward him, his steps slow yet heavy. Abel tried to stand, but Alex pressed down on his shoulder, forcing him to sit on the ground.

“Back then,” Alex said, staring straight into Abel’s eyes, “you always forced me to sit like this—listening to you insult me, mock my family, and trample on my dignity whenever you pleased.”

He lightly patted Abel’s cheek—mocking, humiliating—until red marks began to form.

“Now listen to me.”

Abel clenched his teeth. “You think… this will end well for you?”

Alex smiled coldly.

“I’m not killing you,” he said. “That would be too easy.”

He stepped back a few paces, then spoke calmly—his words piercing like blades.

“You will stand here. For one hour. Without moving.”

Ruyan tried to speak, but his body was still rigid. Djanu was already holding back sobs, trembling as he endured the agony in his wrist.

“If anyone moves,” Alex continued, “I’ll break one of your limbs. Slowly. Painfully.”

Silence.

No one dared challenge Alex’s gaze now.

Alex turned around and walked away. But just before leaving, he stopped and glanced back, leaving behind a mysterious smile—one they had never seen during all the years they bullied him.

“Oh right,” he said as if he had just remembered. “You used to always say…”

He mimicked Abel’s mocking tone from the past.

“‘If you’re not strong enough, don’t fight back. And if your background is powerful, I’ll gladly deal with your people anytime they come.’”

Alex’s gaze turned flat again.

“Come one, I cripple one. Come as a pair, I destroy a pair. Come a thousand, I wipe them all out. Just like you said. Just like in the past. Only the strong have the right to do whatever they want.”

Thump!

Those words were like a double-edged blade—piercing straight into Abel’s heart. Even though he desperately wanted to threaten Alex with his family background, he didn’t dare say it out loud.

Only after Alex’s back completely disappeared from sight did Abel finally speak.

“Bastard… Since when did he become so good at fighting?” he muttered bitterly.

“Alex… you’re the one challenging my father’s power and honor. Then don’t blame me for making you disappear…”

“…from this world.”

*

Inside his late mother’s house, Alex gazed at several photos of young Alex—smiling brightly in the warm embrace of his mother.

He also recalled his own past, before becoming a God.

“Our fates are truly the same,” he murmured. “The only difference is how we chose to fight against this cruel world.”

“Rest easy, Alex. Wherever your soul may be… I’ll make sure you’re satisfied with the way I play this game.”

His voice held no emotion—only a promise that would soon be fulfilled.

Then, a knock sounded at the door.

Knock! Knock!

Alex’s eyes sharpened instantly, but he spoke calmly.

“Who is it?”