True Immortal Heart-Chapter 43: Dusk Nearly Dies

Lucien paid no attention to Dusk’s words and continued to approach him step by step.

When he stood before Dusk, his pupils narrowed. Flames erupted, engulfing his clenched fist as he drove it straight into Dusk’s abdomen.

The blow sent Dusk flying, slamming him against the trunk of a tree. His stomach burned where the strange flame had seared his flesh.

Not only was he scorched, but several of his ribs were shattered from the impact.

"Kh-Kh... Why the hell did you hit me?"

"Because you’re unlucky," Lucien replied coldly, before kicking Dusk squarely in the mouth.

Being assaulted by someone of Rank 1 strength, Dusk stood no chance of resistance.

Lucien’s kick twisted his face, and several teeth were knocked clean from his mouth.

He collapsed, face-first into the dirt, his head spinning violently.

His brain had suffered serious trauma — he couldn’t even think straight anymore.

Fortunately — or perhaps unfortunately — Lucien suddenly stopped. He crouched down, staring intently at Dusk.

"Still alive? You can take a beating pretty well," he said with a twisted grin.

Dusk had just barely regained a sliver of consciousness when he heard Lucien’s words. The fury that surged within nearly made him cough up blood.

’Motherf—? Who the hell asked for your praise on how well I can take a beating?!’

He cursed inwardly but didn’t dare show even a flicker of defiance on his face. He knew full well this man could kill him without hesitation.

Lucien reached down, grabbing a fistful of Dusk’s hair and lifting his head with ease. His expression remained blank, though a sadistic smile curled at the edge of his lips.

"But that’s all your power amounts to. So let me end you."

He raised Dusk’s head high into the air, preparing to slam it down with lethal force.

’Is this really where my life ends? What kind of cursed luck is this?! I refuse!’

That final thought flashed through his mind as he teetered on the brink of death. In his previous life, he had lived in ease and luxury, with hardly a thing to complain about since reaching Rank 1—aside from the whole being-killed part.

This time around, his life had barely started, and he was already scurrying through the shadows like a sewer rat. While on the run from the police, he’d fallen into the hands of that damned woman—Viper. He had just barely escaped her clutches, and now—he was about to be murdered by a lunatic.

Unlucky! Damn it, he was so fucking unlucky! In this second life, he hadn’t even done anything yet!

Lucien swung his arm down with terrifying force. The wind pressure alone slapped across Dusk’s face like death brushing its fingers against his skin.

But then—miraculously—Lucien stopped mid-swing and released his grip on Dusk’s hair.

Was he suddenly moved to pity? Highly unlikely. More probable was that something had just crossed his mind.

"Hey. You got any money?"

Dusk blinked, dazed. For a moment, he thought maybe he’d gone deaf in the face of death. But no—it wasn’t his ears. Lucien had actually said that.

And strangely... that gave him hope.

Not hope of survival— he wasn’t that naive—but hope that he might get one final chance to curse this damned second life before he died.

"Motherf—seriously? Do I look like someone who has money?!" Dusk roared, though the sound came out garbled and broken from his mangled mouth.

Lucien frowned, clearly skeptical. He replied flatly:

"You’re lying. Everyone’s got some money. If you told me you had a little, I might believe you."

Suddenly, Dusk felt the faintest flicker of hope. For reasons beyond comprehension, it seemed his would-be murderer had a strange... soft spot for the poor.

"I’m telling you, I don’t have a single damn credit!" Dusk screamed, his voice full of hoarse desperation. "This morning I had just enough for food, but some thug chick took it all! Right now I’ve got ten thousand credits in loan shark debt, no job, no home—hell, I don’t even have water or food! I don’t even know how many days I’ve got left to live! What reason would I have to lie to you?!"

Lucien was stunned. If death wasn’t considered, then wasn’t this someone whose life was even more difficult than his?

And just like that, the desire to kill Dusk evaporated.

Sure, Lucien wanted to burn the world down—but even that had to be done in order.

First, the rich. The bastards who could enjoy life. They deserved to die first.

And the poor?

Did he pity them? Feel empathy?

Of course not.

He loathed the entire world—and of course, that included the poor. But killing poor people too soon? That would be a complete waste. They hadn’t enjoyed life like the rich had.

The poor needed to suffer longer. To truly experience the depths of poverty and despair.

Only then would killing them mean something.

So Lucien decided he would kill them after he wiped out the wealthy.

"Your despair’s not bad," Lucien said, his voice low and twisted. "I won’t kill you. I’ll let you live... just so you can wallow in that despair. And in fear—because one day, I will come back to kill you. Keh keh keh keh!"

As he laughed, his disfigured face twisted grotesquely. Burned and mangled, even demons might look prettier than him. It was the kind of face that would send children screaming in terror.

Without sparing Dusk another glance, Lucien turned and walked away with a calm, measured pace.

Now, only Dusk remained, lying helpless atop the hill. At this point, he didn’t even have the strength to crawl down.

’Am I dreaming? Is this what surviving feels like?’

He could hardly believe this was real.

As for Lucien’s promise to kill him in the future? That didn’t scare him.

He was going to grow stronger. And when that time came—who knew who would be the one dying?

His entire body was wracked with pain, but Dusk suddenly didn’t feel so hopeless anymore. Even the system’s reward didn’t seem all that bad now.

’System, hurry up and give me my damn reward.’

[Ding! System Notice: Master’s recent performance was far too pathetic and weak. There was absolutely zero aura of a supreme villain. As a result, your reward will be delayed by one full day. I hope the master is still alive after 24 hours.]

The system’s cold, robotic voice nearly drove Dusk insane. He didn’t even have the strength to move, much less survive another day. He was starving, dehydrated, and badly injured.

There was no doubt—the system was doing this on purpose. Toying with his life like some sick game.

This second life of his... was seriously cursed.

’Screw you, system! You damn bastard! If you’ve got the guts, get the hell out of me already!’

Dusk screamed every foul curse he could think of—inside his mind, of course—just before passing out.