Death God: Starting from Refining Essence into Qi

My name is Jiro.

My memories of my parents' lives are now blurred; their faces are like paper soaked in water, crumbling at the slightest touch. I only vaguely remember that after my mysterious death, I saw a man dressed as a samurai slaying a monster. Later, I was taken to Rukongai by this man who called himself a Shinigami (Grim Reaper), where I learned that the monster was a Hollow. But since then, I have never seen my parents again.

Life in Rukongai is tough, but compared to when you were alive, at least you won't experience war again, and there's still hope of reuniting with your family.

Moreover, there are many people in Rukongai with similar experiences. We will stick together and become family to each other until someone finds their relatives from their previous life.

There's only one downside to Rukongai: hunger.

That kind of hunger is an emptiness that seeps from the very bones. Even after drinking a lot of water, your stomach feels heavy, but the hunger just won't leave, like a worm slowly crawling down your spine.

I asked my family members who live with me in Rukongai, and they said that one jar of water can last them three days, while I feel hungry as soon as I finish drinking it.

At that time, I didn't know what it meant. I just worked twice as much as others every day, exchanging all the meager rewards I earned for coarse food.

I hated this body. Why could others save money and accumulate wealth, while I had to expend all my energy just to fill my stomach? I never told anyone this, because it would be pointless. Everyone in Rukongai has their own hardships; no one cares how many meals you go hungry. Just surviving is already a gift from God.

However, the impending disaster struck without warning.

That day, I was helping the grocery store owner move goods when I suddenly heard a roar from the end of the street. It wasn't the howl of a wild beast, but a deep, guttural roar that could resonate in one's bones. Immediately afterward, screams erupted, and the crowd scattered like rats whose burrows had been disturbed. I had only run two steps when I saw a Void leap down from the rooftop. It was over five meters long, and its crimson eyes beneath its bony mask shone brighter than burning coals.

I can't outrun it. Nobody can outrun it.

My survival instinct pushed me into the store's cellar. Several people were already crammed in the darkness, but I couldn't see them clearly. The moment the stone door closed, I heard a heavy thud overhead—one, two, then it stopped. Then came the muffled thud of someone being dragged, and a gurgling sound coming from a weak throat.

I dared not move, I just stared into the darkness, listening to my own heartbeat pounding against my eardrums like a drum.

In the cellar, there was no water, no light, only the trembling shoulders of strangers beside me and the constant, echoing heavy footsteps overhead.

Some prayed quietly, some sobbed softly. I didn't ask anyone for blessings. No one had blessed me in life or in death, so I don't believe in Buddhism. At that moment, only two thoughts occupied my mind: Had I not yet had a full meal, and was I going to die again? Would my family members from Rukongai who had helped me survive?

After an unknown amount of time, a violent crashing sound and roaring noises suddenly came from outside the cellar, along with a low rumbling sound I had never heard before. A long time passed, and then everything fell silent. Then, the cellar door was opened from the outside.

The sunlight was so bright I could barely open my eyes. When I could finally see clearly, I saw two figures standing against the light at the cellar exit. A purple-haired girl, wearing a black eyepatch over her left eye, was tilting her head and scrutinizing us. She was still wreathed in lingering lightning, looking as if she had just stepped out of a lightning bolt.

Another dark-haired boy stood beside her. I recognized them; they were Death.

The excitement of surviving the ordeal left me somewhat dazed, having been starving for so long. They appeared completely unharmed, without a trace of injury or dirt; for a moment, I was unsure if it was real or a hallucination.

When we arrived at West District 53, we were parched and felt like we had a handful of burning sand stuck in our throats. The black-haired Grim Reaper led us to a water shop and bought fourteen jars of purified water.

One by one, the water jars were brought out and placed on the ground. The refreshing scent of water wafted over, and everyone's eyes lit up. I stared intently at the water jars, my throat tightening, but I dared not take a step forward. Having spent so many years in Rukongai, I knew all too well that there were no free lunches.

Until the adult spoke, his voice as calm as an afternoon breeze, yet clearly reaching everyone's ears: "This water is for you. Line up and take it in turn."

I followed the crowd forward, my hands trembling as I took the water jug. The icy water slid down my throat and into my empty stomach, but that familiar feeling of hunger still surged up like a tide. I squatted by the roadside, clutching the water jug, drinking slowly, afraid to drink too fast, lest I run out and have nothing left.

After everyone had finished drinking the water, the adult suddenly spoke again, his gaze sweeping over all of us: "If any of you still feel hungry after just drinking water, raise your hand."

The other survivors exchanged bewildered glances, no one moving. Hungry? Who wouldn't be hungry after squatting in the cellar for so long? But once they finished drinking water, that empty feeling would eventually dissipate. Only I knew that my hunger was different.

I gripped the empty water jug ​​tightly, my fingertips turning white. After hesitating for a long time, I finally mustered the courage to slowly raise my hand.

Almost simultaneously, two other people also raised their hands—a young man who looked like a slacker and a thin, dark-skinned girl with a coarse cloth headscarf who always kept her head down.

The man's gaze fell upon us. He took out rice cakes wrapped in mulberry paper and handed them to us three.

He said that it's not that we are more gluttonous than others, but that we have spiritual aptitude. The spiritual energy we get from drinking water is not enough to sustain our bodies, so we must eat food to survive.

Spiritual aptitude.

Those four words slammed into my head, leaving me stunned. I've always hated this body of mine that's hungrier than others, feeling it's an inescapable burden, the root of all my suffering in this life.

Now someone is telling me that this is not a defect, but a qualification.

At that moment, I didn't know how to describe the feeling in my heart. I just wanted to cry, but I also wanted to laugh, and I was afraid that if I made a sound, everything would shatter.

Later I learned that the black-haired grim reaper who saved us was named Gen. The purple-haired girl was named Saito Immortal. We only dared to respectfully call them Lord Gen and Lord Saito.

The group continued eastward, encountering another wandering Grim Reaper named Obana Danjiro, followed by a group of elderly, weak, and disabled wandering spirits. I overheard his conversation with Lord Gen, learning that he too came from a noble family and that he had been protecting these homeless people all these years.

Several people who had come out of the cellar with him chose to follow Lord Obana. When the woman carrying the child left, she bowed deeply to Lord Gen, weeping and saying she was sorry. Lord Gen simply nodded and said, "Take care."

I stood still, without moving an inch.

Lord Xuan saved my life, and he showed me the value of this body that everyone else despised. Even if there were mountains of knives and seas of fire ahead, I would follow him, no matter what, there is food, drink, and a way to survive here.

Staying with me were two other people with spiritual potential—A-Yuan, the dark-skinned, thin girl; and Mao-Xiong, the man who initially seemed like a sleazy fellow. The three of us exchanged glances, and we all saw the same unwavering certainty in each other's eyes.

On the day I arrived in the West 20th District, I saw a completely different Rukongai. There were streets paved with stone slabs, neat wooden houses, and Rukongai dressed in clean clothes chatting idly by the roadside.

I looked down at my tattered clothes, then at the others, and suddenly felt ashamed.

We crawled out of the ruins, covered in dust and reeking of blood, standing there like stray dogs that had wandered into someone's house. At that moment, I thought, do we really deserve to live in a place like this?

Then Master Xuan bought a piece of land and told us that it would be our future home.

I will never forget that day.

Watching Lord Xuan turn the world upside down with a flick of his wrist, I wondered: if I truly possessed spiritual talent, could I do the same in the future?

That day, Lord Xuan stood before all of us and announced the points redemption system.

I stood in the crowd, listening intently to every word: "You earn points for working. Points can be exchanged for clean water, food, and lodging. One thousand rings equal ten points, and a jar of clean water is worth five points." I quickly calculated in my mind that, based on my previous work volume, the points I earned in a day were enough to buy two days' worth of water and food. Two days. And I'd still have some left over.

My hands, clutching the hem of my clothes, were trembling. This time, they weren't cold; they were burning hot. A surge of warmth welled up from my heart, flowing through my veins and throughout my body. It turned out that in Rukongai, one could truly live honestly and uprightly with one's own two hands, without stealing, without robbing, and without having to depend on others.

The time I spent building the wooden house was the most peaceful time I've ever had since I died.

Cutting down trees, sawing planks, laying foundations, erecting beams and pillars—I got up before dawn every day and worked until dark, not wanting to stop. The blisters on my hands kept breaking and healing, my shoulders were bruised from the weight of the timber, and my whole body ached so much that I didn't want to move when I lay down at night. But I didn't feel tired at all.

With every swing of the axe, I knew I was chopping down the house I would live in; with every beam erected, I was building a home for myself. Master carpenter Mosaburo always said he had never seen me work so hard. I just smiled and didn't say anything. He didn't know that before, I worked to survive; now, I work to live better.

The room was small, just big enough for a wooden bed and a low table, with the rough grain of the wood still visible on the walls. But I stood at the door for a long time and saw that the door was newly planed, and it smelled of fresh pine when I pushed it open.

I have my own room now.

No more crammed into a stone shed with others, no more fear of waking up to find myself without shelter from the wind and rain. This place belongs to me; I carved it out myself, a piece of land I carved out with my axe.

I suddenly thought of my family from Rukongai. I wonder if they survived the Hollows? Where do the souls of the dead go when they die again?

I buried my face in the pillow and kept quiet for a long time.

When I woke up the next morning, sunlight streamed through the cracks in the wooden planks, drawing golden lines on the ground. I lay there for a while, suppressing my churning emotions and putting them aside with that familiar feeling of hunger. Then I got up and went out to work.

Life settled down like that.

Master Xuan hung a signboard in the wooden house facing the street, calling it "Ghost Path All-Purpose Shop". He takes on all kinds of jobs, from small things like chopping wood and carrying water, and writing letters, to large things like escorting supplies and finding lost items. He doesn't pick and choose jobs, as long as they don't cross his bottom line, he will take them all.

The Yorozuya's business is growing, and because Mao Xiong, A Yuan, and I have spiritual aptitude, we have much more energy than ordinary wandering spirits, so we always do the most work. I take on any job, from helping shops move goods to finding lost pets for noble families to chopping wood and carrying water for elderly people living alone. As long as I can earn points, I'm not afraid of any hardship or fatigue.

Looking back, I've been working myself to the bone every day, taking on as many commissions as possible, and everyone around me praises my competence. Actually, I don't really love working that much, but every time I see the numbers on the bulletin board go up, it feels like the emptiness in my heart is being filled a little bit as well.

I used to be terrified of hunger, so I always felt I needed to accumulate more points to feel secure. Therefore, my points on the bulletin board were always the highest, far ahead of the second-place player. Every day after work, the other wanderers around me would check the bulletin board, and I knew they would point at the top name and whisper, "Is this guy even human? How does he accumulate so many points every day?"

They don't understand. I'm not human; I'm someone who's been starving. Only those who have experienced hunger know that only tangible things can bring peace of mind. A house, clean water, food, points. Lord Gen and Lord Saito might need an organization capable of fighting, but for me, the Kido-shu Yorozuya gave me something I'd never had since death—security.

No need to worry about whether you'll be hungry tomorrow, no need to fear whether you'll be able to sleep soundly at night, no need to live in constant anxiety about where your next meal will come from.

So when Maoxiong and Ayuan came to me that day and said they wanted to collect points together to exchange for a spiritual energy cultivation course, I agreed almost without hesitation.

One hundred points represented all the savings the three of us had accumulated over several months, and after redeeming them, our points were almost empty. But I felt it was worth it. I was finally about to reap the rewards of my efforts—the power to protect everyone during the impending catastrophe, a power that would make all the hardships I had endured worthwhile.

Although he was uneasy after being called stupid by Saito-sama, he was comforted by Gen-sama's words. Although it was also hurtful, it ignited a strong desire to gain the approval of the two Grim Reapers.

I've always done this: spend more time and put in more effort every day.

Finally, he successfully sensed his own spiritual power, and a thousand words surged in his heart.

That night, I couldn't sleep at all. My whole body felt warm, not from the heat, but from the lingering spiritual energy within me. I tossed and turned, my mind filled with the sensation of activating the spiritual energy during the day. I finally got up and went to the notice board.

By the moonlight, I noticed that the points redemption list pinned to the notice board had a few more pages.

"Those who have mastered at least one Ghost Path will be formally granted the title of 'Ghost Path Master'."

Seeing this, I excitedly searched and finally found the exchange price for the first Ghost Path: twenty points.

I quickly calculated in my mind. I just redeemed a course today, and my points were reset to zero. But I'm usually the person who accumulates points the fastest at the Yorozuya. If I keep taking orders at my usual pace and work harder, I might have enough points by next month.

When the time comes, I will master the first Ghost Path and become the first true Ghost Path follower besides the Ghost Path Master.

Once the thought popped into my head, I couldn't take it back. It rolled over with every heartbeat, then was enveloped by a surge of weariness, and I sank into a dream with the scent of pine.

I closed my eyes, a lingering smile still on my lips.