I am a Tycoon!

The city skyline glimmered under the velvet sky, a landscape painted with neon lights and ambition. Cars hummed along the glistening asphalt, people bustled through the sidewalks, and at the center of it all was Lee Oh, the man whose name had become synonymous with power.

Top ten richest in the nation. Net worth: Ten. Billion. Dollars.

His empire stretched across real estate, tech, pharmaceuticals, even space exploration. News channels worshipped him. The public envied him. He had everything—power, influence, and a private island. But on this night, none of it mattered.

Because he was running for his life.

Breath ragged. Footsteps uneven. Suit torn.

Blood.

Not his.

Yet.

His Italian leather shoes slapped against the wet pavement as he sprinted through the alleys of the industrial district, where the streetlights flickered like broken memories. Behind him, the echo of another man's footsteps grew louder.

A voice sliced through the night like a knife through silk.

"You can run, Lee Oh... but soon, you'll be with your family."

Lee's heart pounded—not just from exertion, but from rage.

His family was dead.

Wife. Son. Daughter.

All murdered in cold blood.

And the man chasing him, Kang Joon-Ho, had confessed without remorse.

"Once you're dead," Kang said, appearing at the end of the alley with a gleaming knife, "I'll take your company. Your assets. Everything. Just like I took your family."

Lee stumbled, fell to his knees.

Pain shot through his side. His hand touched something cold, hidden beneath a pile of garbage.

A knife.

Worn. Rusted. But sharp enough to kill.

He grasped it with trembling fingers. As Kang lunged forward, Lee stood.

Their knives clashed under the moonlight.

A symphony of steel.

Lee slashed. Kang dodged. Kang stabbed—his blade grazing Lee's ribs. Lee gasped, countered, and drove his knife into Kang's arm.

Blood painted the concrete.

Kang roared and slammed Lee against the wall, plunging his blade into Lee's stomach. Then again—into the side of his neck.

Lee's vision blurred. The city lights dimmed. His knees buckled.

"Die, Lee. Join your family."

But in his final moment, Lee twisted his wrist and drove the knife into Kang's chest, straight through his ribs.

They collapsed together.

The rain fell.

[SYSTEM INITIALIZATION]

Name: Lee Oh

Level: 0

Points: 0

System Function: Gain points by collecting and selling items.

Lee Oh gasped and sat up.

He was no longer in Seoul.

The scent of damp hay filled his nostrils. A harsh sun beat down through the cracks of a wooden cage. His limbs ached. He touched his stomach—no blood. His throat—unscarred.

And his hands…

They were calloused.

Dirty.

Not the hands of a billionaire.

"Where… what is this?" he muttered. His voice cracked. Rough.

He scrambled to his feet, but fell again. He looked down and saw chains.

On his ankles.

A low groan came from the corner of the cart. Other slaves. Wearing rags. Eyes hollow.

A holographic screen hovered in front of him. Semi-transparent. Blue.

SYSTEM ONLINE.

Welcome to the [Murim Survival Realm].

You are currently a slave in the Xian Province.

Gain points by collecting, crafting, and selling items. Points can be used to unlock abilities, items, and privileges.

Status:

Level: 0Points: 0Title: NoneInventory: Empty

Lee blinked.

"A system? A game? Is this some kind of afterlife?"

His reflection shimmered faintly in the screen.

He looked different.

Younger. Rougher. A scar ran across his left brow. His sharp features were now rugged, even feral.

"This… this isn't a dream. I'm alive. But I… died."

He stared at his hands again.

Not the hands of a billionaire.

But a reincarnated slave.

He clenched his fists.

"WHY A SLAVE?!" he shouted, shaking the chains. The other captives flinched. A nearby guard barked something in an unfamiliar dialect.

His rage boiled.

In his past life, he had everything.

Now?

Nothing.

Just this bizarre system telling him to collect trash and sell it?

Then his eyes narrowed.

"Collecting and selling…" he muttered.

A thought sparked.

Wasn't that how he began his empire in his first life? Flipping junk. Recycling scrap. Turning nothing into profit.

He smirked bitterly.

"So be it. If I have to rise again from mud to gold, I will."

Suddenly, another cart rolled past.

Among the slaves sat a man dressed in fine robes, surrounded by guards.

Their eyes locked.

Lee's blood ran cold.

Kang Joon-Ho.

Same face. Same smirk.

But this time, not a criminal.

A nobleman.