Rebirth
The crowded train station in Forty-Nine City was bustling with noise. Ethan Collins pushed against the flow of people, determined, like a fish swimming upstream.
His target: a panicked thief bolting ahead.
He shouted, trying to get the thief to stop, but the chaotic noise around drowned out his voice.
Ethan didn’t give up. With his agility and youth on his side, he darted through the crowd like a nimble fish weaving through water.
With a quick move, he grabbed the man’s arm. But the thief was a big, burly guy. The moment Ethan grabbed hold, the thief’s momentum yanked them both off balance, and they hit the ground hard.
The man’s face was rough with scowls, a long scar slashing from his left eye to the corner of his right mouth adding to his menacing look.
“Kid, you think you can mess with me, a train cop? Let me go!” the thief barked viciously. As he spoke, a knife gleamed in his hand and jabbed toward Ethan’s chest like a flash of lightning.
Ethan stumbled back in a panic, but the knife still grazed his palm, leaving it cut. As he staggered backward, he tripped. His head struck a rock as he fell, and everything went dark.
“Ethan! Ethan, are you okay?” A voice called out frantically.Ethan Collins slowly opened his eyes and found himself staring at a plain white ceiling. The sharp smell of disinfectant in the air made it clear—this was a hospital.
But Ethan wasn’t just any train cop anymore. His soul, from the 21st century, now resided in this body.
The whole ordeal started when he risked his life to save a woman attempting suicide.
As he shoved her out of the water, her foot accidentally kicked him in the head, pushing him back into the river. Exhausted and unable to fight any longer, he grabbed onto her anklet, but it slipped from his weakening fingers.
Then, darkness took over. When he woke up, he found himself here.
A splitting headache hit him as memories flooded into his mind like a tsunami.
It was now 1960. The original Ethan Collins was an orphan of war heroes—his parents had both died serving the country.
He was raised under the care of his parents’ comrades and assigned a job as a train cop when he grew up. But his life was cut short when he died trying to stop a thief, hitting his head on a rock.
Now, Ethan’s modern-day soul had taken over this young man’s body.
Feeling disoriented, Ethan couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift.
In his previous life, he had also been an orphan, all alone in the world. The apartment he had just managed to put a down payment on? He couldn’t help but wonder who’d get it now. That was the money he'd saved up bit by bit over more than ten years, scrimping and saving.
But now, it all felt so insignificant.
What mattered was that he had been reborn into this era, as a young man named Ethan Collins.
At that thought, a gloom settled over Ethan’s heart.
Because this was a turbulent time—a period of uncertainty, hunger, and fear.
It was during the harsh years of the three-year natural disasters, a time etched in memory for its hardship, leaving people trembling with unease.
In this world of scarcity and survival, most folks hovered on the edge of starvation and cold, struggling every single day just to make it through.
Thankfully, Ethan held an unusual status—a martyr's orphan.
This gave him certain privileges in this era. At the very least, finding a job wouldn’t be a problem, and he wouldn’t starve to death.
Ethan had always been someone who enjoyed reading, especially those time-travel novels. They were his favorites.
He would often lie awake at night, imagining himself as the protagonist in those stories, possessing some game-changing ability—a "cheat" that could turn his fate around.
It made him try calling out in his head, “System, system…” But there was nothing—just silence. He tried calling out in different ways, even silently repeating in his mind, “System, are you there? It’s me, Ethan Collins. Can you hear me?” But no matter how he called, the response he hoped for never came.
A wave of disappointment, even a tinge of despair, washed over him.
Just as he was about to give up, he noticed something—a small, circular birthmark on his palm. He’d never paid attention to it before, but now it was unmistakable. It resembled a Taiji symbol more and more as he studied it.
The sight jogged his memory—he recalled clutching the girl’s foot in his final moments in the modern world. On her ankle, there had been a round, red-threaded ancient jade. Was this it? Could this strange mark be the key, his so-called golden cheat, that had somehow followed him here?
Frowning, he scrutinized the mark, thoroughly examining it for any clues. He poked it, he pinched it, he even pressed hard—so hard his palm began to feel sore and red—but there was no reaction. It stayed as it was, still and lifeless.
Then he remembered something from the novels he used to read: many mystical items required a drop of blood to make them work.
Conveniently, his palm was already wounded from earlier, though the cut had been hastily wrapped. He unwrapped it quickly, pressed the wound against the birthmark, and let a tiny drop of blood smear onto it.
That was when it happened.
In an instant, the birthmark lit up with a radiant golden glow, greedily absorbing the blood as if it had been waiting for this all along.The birthmark on his hand seemed like a bottomless pit, continuously drawing in the surrounding blood. Even through the bandage, blood seeped out and was absorbed by the mark.
Already injured, Ethan Collins felt lightheaded as his blood drained rapidly. His face turned pale, and a wave of panic surged through him.
"Am I going to be the first person in history to die because my golden finger bled me dry?" he thought with a mix of fear and frustration. The idea of perishing in such an absurd manner after being reborn felt utterly humiliating.
Just as his despair was about to overwhelm him, the golden birthmark stopped absorbing blood as if it had had its fill. Then, to his shock, it peeled away from his palm and shot straight toward his forehead.
Ethan's eyes widened in disbelief as the birthmark disappeared into his brow. A sudden dizziness washed over him, and he felt like an unknown force was pulling him into another dimension.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in an unfamiliar space, radiating a strange, mystical energy. It felt like a whole new world.
Joy and amazement flooded his heart. "So, this is my golden finger!" he realized. The ancient jade had finally bonded with him.
As his thoughts wandered, his consciousness dove deeper into the mysterious realm. The space was about thirty square meters, with a gourd-shaped jade stone placed at its center, roughly the size of a table.
At the mouth of the gourd, there was a shallow pool of water. It looked like it was being poured from an ancient vessel but never seemed to run dry.
Ethan Collins felt a surge of indescribable joy in his chest.
He'd read plenty of stories about people who got to relive their lives, each with some kind of extraordinary ability or item—what folks called a "golden finger."
Sure, he didn’t have some popular feature like a signing bonus system or other trendy powers, but having a personal space like this? Honestly, it was more than enough to make him happy.
His mind wandered to scenes of using this space for transporting goods, maybe even becoming a logistics tycoon.
But reality hit him hard.
It was 1960—a time of scarcity, communal eating, and strict regulations. Doing business could get you labeled as a speculator, and that would mean hard labor camps if you were caught.
Ethan gave up on the idea with a bit of resignation and turned his focus to studying this mysterious space.
The name "Chaos Creation Space" had popped into his mind the moment he entered, like it had been imprinted there.
Looking around now, though, the only things inside it were the gourd-shaped jade stone in the middle and a few shallow drops of water. There wasn’t anything else.
A thought struck him—could those few drops of water be what people called spiritual water? Ethan Collins had heard about the mystical effects of the spirit water, said to cleanse the body and refine its essence.
With just a thought, a few drops of the water materialized in his mouth. Without hesitation, he swallowed. The texture was strange, almost like jelly, and it slid down his throat effortlessly.
Almost immediately, a warm sensation spread through his entire body. His pale face, drained from blood loss, started to regain a healthy pink hue. The wounds on his palms and the back of his head tingled faintly, as if they were healing rapidly.
The comfort was almost intoxicating. He felt an overwhelming urge to sigh in relief but held it back.
Then, his stomach growled loudly, breaking the serene moment. Simultaneously, his skin began to secrete a sticky, black grease.
Setting everything else aside, Ethan bolted to the bathroom attached to the hospital's high-ranking patient room. If it weren’t for the private restroom, the situation he was about to face would’ve been downright unbearable.
He quickly shut the door, stripped off his pants, and let his body purge itself. The stench that followed was so overwhelming it nearly knocked him out.
Despite the discomfort and embarrassment, Ethan knew this was all part of the process—purging toxins and impurities from his body. He clung to the certainty that this suffering meant a stronger, brighter future awaited him.After Ethan Collins wrapped up a necessary daily task, he took a shower and felt like a whole new person. His skin was unbelievably smooth and flawless, like freshly fallen snow.
Standing in front of the mirror, he was startled to see how much lighter his complexion had become, with a vitality that practically radiated from him. The most unbelievable thing? That deep, nasty wound on his palm had fully healed without a trace.
To avoid raising any suspicions, he rewrapped his hand with the same bandage he had just taken off. Thankfully, his head injury was only a bruise and hadn’t bled—explaining that would’ve been tricky.
Staring at the faint red mark that remained, Ethan almost doubted his memory—was there ever really a wound there to begin with?
