Only I Am A Reader - Chapter 490 Deserved Lesson

“Send me to the past.” That’s how the first step toward revenge began.

Kai's story begins in a cold holding cell - with no memories and nothing to live for. Just pain and rage. Broken, like the world around him. That’s when everything went black...The next thing he knew, he awoke as a mutant!Seven years earlier, in 2020, the Z Virus outbreak shattered the world. Cities fell. Beasts and monsters ravaged the streets. And from the chaos, mutants emerged - humans twisted by the virus into something more. A gift and a curse.But Kai didn’t mutate from the virus.He was made.The first and only stable artificial mutant, created by the twisted genius Dr Nyx - a man who failed to replicate him and spiralled into obsession.Tortured. Experimented on. Pushed to the edge. Kai finally escaped after his awakening, but the scars remained. And so did the power.Now free, Kai is cold, calculating, and merciless. His ability to manipulate blood - his own or others' - is terrifying. But to him, it’s just a tool. One he’ll wield without hesitation.In a ruined world ruled by the Association, mutants, and the strong, Kai has no interest in saving it. He wants answers about his past, the truth behind his mutation, and revenge on the man who tormented him.Only one thing is certain: He who bleeds last writes the story... even if it’s in crimson ink on the bones of the fallen.This is the story of the Bloodweaver!Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real events, locations, or people are purely coincidental and not intended to portray anything.

A decade ago, the first dungeon gates appeared, but some vanished before they were ever conquered. The MC, a low-rank hunter, awakens the Lost Gate System, granting him access to these forgotten dungeons where legendary monsters and artifacts are trapped. Each completed lost gate grants him absurd power, but also reveals terrifying truths—these dungeons are prisons for ancient beings who want revenge.

In the Jiuxiao Continent, martial arts is respected. The weak are like ants living in the ruins of dark alleys, while the strong are like dragons roaring and gathering at the top of the clouds. The laws of this place use blood as ink and bones as inkstones. A three-foot-long sword can split the sun and the moon, and a murderous thought can stir up a bloody wind. There was once a drunk madman who trampled eighteen royal cities to pieces. Wherever the sword pointed, thousands of miles of mountains and rivers were dyed red. There was also a saint who lowered his eyes to calm the nine thunder tribulations, and with a flick of his sleeves, a golden lotus suddenly appeared in the abyss.