Caçador: Fiquei Mais Forte Mesmo Após a Morte

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Late at night, torrential rain poured down.

In Youkexin City, on Downwater Street.

The rain fell like beaded curtains, converging into streams that traced the veins of the city’s streets.

The streetlights flickered unevenly, yet one antique shop blazed brightly.

Above the shop hung a common electronic screen, on which a line of red characters slowly scrolled:

“Buying antiques, sundries, and handcrafted artworks—June 22, 1997.”

Inside the antique shop, display cases were set against the walls.

Bathed in an amber glow, antique artworks were arranged, their true value hard to discern.

In the depths of the shop, a solid wood table was placed against the wall, with a desk lamp perched on the corner.

Under the bundled light, a red wooden figurine about fifty centimeters tall stood silently.

Suddenly, a pair of hands reached into the lamp’s glow, enveloping the seemingly ordinary wooden figurine.

The owner of the hands was a young man dressed casually, with sharp black hair and handsome features.

Click.

With a slight exertion of his fingertips, cracks appeared on the surface of the wooden figurine, from which white glimmers distinct from the lamp’s light seeped forth.

Then, the wooden shell shattered and fell away, revealing a translucent jade figure shimmering with faint aura.

The jade figure’s surface bore delicate pale green fish-scale-like patterns that gleamed under the light, clearly marking it as a precious artifact.

Breaking the wooden shell transformed waste