Chapter 1 · Hard To Kill

I've been hard to kill since I was a kid.

When I was five, my grandma tricked me into holding a firecracker, hoping it'd blow off my hand so she could get a disability certificate and cash in on having a disabled grandkid.

I threw the firecracker right into her clothes instead. Grandma had a heart attack on the spot—almost didn't survive.

Back in elementary school, my dad took out three personal accident insurance policies on me. Our place caught fire three times, and every single time, it was the neighbors who dragged me out.

After that, I nearly drowned, got into car accidents, and even got electrocuted...

Barely survived all the way to high school, only to have someone eye my kidney and offer 150 thousand dollars for it. My parents agreed to the deal without telling me.

On the day of the surgery, a couple stormed into the operating room, yelling, "If anyone dares touch a single hair on my daughter, I won't let them off!"

As my consciousness faded, I saw an elegant lady running toward me, tears streaming down her face.

She sobbed, "I'm sorry. Mom's late."

*****

I've always been different. I can see the aura people give off.

Like when I was five, my grandma handed me a firecracker thicker than my arm, looking all kind and loving as she asked me to hold it.

She was all smiles, but the aura around her was jet black.

I'd seen that same aura on Uncle Donald once, when he was ready to kill Aunt Aileen after she caught him sleeping with some pretty girl.

So, the moment the fuse caught, I tossed the firecracker right into her clothes.

Bang!

She almost didn't make it to sixty.

Afterward, my dad stuffed me into a sack and beat me half to death.

Afraid I was still too tough, they left me in that sack out in the rain all night.

Even after all that, I still survived.

Later, my parents moved to the city, and a year later, they brought home twin babies.

It was the first time I saw the pink aura around them. Sandra Graves, the nicest old lady in the village, always had that same aura. All the kids in the village loved her, including me.

The twins' one-month party lasted three days and nights, and for once, I got to eat meat for three whole days straight.

I watched as Mom cradled my little brother, showing off his boy parts to every relative and friend like she was the hero of the day. I just couldn't figure out why his aura looked so cloudy.

I'd never seen that kind of aura on anyone before.

Not long after, my parents took my brother and sister back to the city, and I stayed with Grandma.

When I was in elementary school, my dad came back to the village with a worried look and spent the whole afternoon talking things over with Grandma.

That same day, I was taken to the city. Grandma told everyone it was because the city had better schools, so I could have a bright future.

But her idea of a "future" was locking me up at home, where I survived three house fires in just two years.

After the third fire, a neighbor, without saying a word, socked my dad right in the face and yelled, "Do you even deserve to be called a father? You ran out and locked the door behind you, for god's sake! If my wife hadn't given your daughter a kids' watch with a phone, she'd be dead in there, you hear me?"

The firefighters were still there. One of them had rescued me all three times and remembered me. He glared daggers at my dad from the crowd, but because he was in uniform, he had to keep his mouth shut.

That punch finally made my dad drop his insurance scam.

But I ended up getting sent straight back to the sticks.

Accidents kept popping up now and then, but I was just too tough to kill. No matter what, I always walked away unscathed.

That was, until my senior year of high school.

Right after the SAT, my parents showed up all smiles, telling me they'd lined up a summer job for me.

But when I spotted the gray aura hanging over them, I didn't even think—I turned and ran.

I hadn't even made it far before a van cut me off, blocking my escape.

They threw me into the van and tied me up.

I struggled desperately, reaching out to my parents behind me, begging them for help.

But they just coldly turned away and left without a second glance.

When I came to, I found myself on an operating table in some private hospital. Outside, I could hear my parents and the buyer chatting.

"Hey, can you up the price? If not, just take both her kidneys," my dad said.

Maybe the buyer had never seen parents this cruel before. He looked at them with utter disdain and said, "Look, I just want my daughter to get better. I'm not a murderer."

In the end, they settled on 150 thousand dollars.

Hearing their greedy laughter outside, I was shaking with rage, wishing I could hack them into pieces.

Just when I thought all hope was lost, I heard a commotion outside. A couple stormed into the operating room, yelling, "If anyone dares touch a single hair on my daughter, you'll pay for it!

Chapter 1

I've been hard to kill since I was a kid.

When I was five, my grandma tricked me into holding a firecracker, hoping it'd blow off my hand so she could get a disability certificate and cash in on having a disabled grandkid.

I threw the firecracker right into her clothes instead. Grandma had a heart attack on the spot—almost didn't survive.

Back in elementary school, my dad took out three personal accident insurance policies on me. Our place caught fire three times, and every single time, it was the neighbors who dragged me out.

After that, I nearly drowned, got into car accidents, and even got electrocuted...

Barely survived all the way to high school, only to have someone eye my kidney and offer 150 thousand dollars for it. My parents agreed to the deal without telling me.

On the day of the surgery, a couple stormed into the operating room, yelling, "If anyone dares touch a single hair on my daughter, I won't let them off!"

As my consciousness faded, I saw an elegant lady running toward me, tears streaming down her face.

She sobbed, "I'm sorry. Mom's late."

*****

I've always been different. I can see the aura people give off.

Like when I was five, my grandma handed me a firecracker thicker than my arm, looking all kind and loving as she asked me to hold it.

She was all smiles, but the aura around her was jet black.

I'd seen that same aura on Uncle Donald once, when he was ready to kill Aunt Aileen after she caught him sleeping with some pretty girl.

So, the moment the fuse caught, I tossed the firecracker right into her clothes.

Bang!

She almost didn't make it to sixty.

Afterward, my dad stuffed me into a sack and beat me half to death.

Afraid I was still too tough, they left me in that sack out in the rain all night.

Even after all that, I still survived.

Later, my parents moved to the city, and a year later, they brought home twin babies.

It was the first time I saw the pink aura around them. Sandra Graves, the nicest old lady in the village, always had that same aura. All the kids in the village loved her, including me.

The twins' one-month party lasted three days and nights, and for once, I got to eat meat for three whole days straight.

I watched as Mom cradled my little brother, showing off his boy parts to every relative and friend like she was the hero of the day. I just couldn't figure out why his aura looked so cloudy.

I'd never seen that kind of aura on anyone before.

Not long after, my parents took my brother and sister back to the city, and I stayed with Grandma.

When I was in elementary school, my dad came back to the village with a worried look and spent the whole afternoon talking things over with Grandma.

That same day, I was taken to the city. Grandma told everyone it was because the city had better schools, so I could have a bright future.

But her idea of a "future" was locking me up at home, where I survived three house fires in just two years.

That punch finally made my dad drop his insurance scam.

But I ended up getting sent straight back to the sticks.

Accidents kept popping up now and then, but I was just too tough to kill. No matter what, I always walked away unscathed.

That was, until my senior year of high school.

Right after the SAT, my parents showed up all smiles, telling me they'd lined up a summer job for me.

But when I spotted the gray aura hanging over them, I didn't even think—I turned and ran.

I hadn't even made it far before a van cut me off, blocking my escape.

They threw me into the van and tied me up.

I struggled desperately, reaching out to my parents behind me, begging them for help.

But they just coldly turned away and left without a second glance.

When I came to, I found myself on an operating table in some private hospital. Outside, I could hear my parents and the buyer chatting.

"Hey, can you up the price? If not, just take both her kidneys," my dad said.

Maybe the buyer had never seen parents this cruel before. He looked at them with utter disdain and said, "Look, I just want my daughter to get better. I'm not a murderer."

In the end, they settled on 150 thousand dollars.

Hearing their greedy laughter outside, I was shaking with rage, wishing I could hack them into pieces.

Just when I thought all hope was lost, I heard a commotion outside. A couple stormed into the operating room, yelling, "If anyone dares touch a single hair on my daughter, you'll pay for it!