I Siphon the Dead to Become the Strongest

The morning sun hit Ethan’s face with an aggressive brightness that felt personally offensive to his sleep schedule. He stood before the swirling vortex of a gate, his hands in his pockets and his expression one of profound boredom.

“And so here we are,” Ethan sighed, his voice a monotone drone. “A C-Rank gate. Normally, I’d see a sign that says ‘Danger: High Probability of Death’ and immediately turn around to go make a sandwich. But alas, the crushing weight of capitalism has finally caught up with me.”

He glanced around the perimeter. The gate was guarded, but the security was basically a suggestion. With a few lazy shuffles and a level of stealth that mostly involved him pretending he belonged there, Ethan slipped past the checkpoints.

WHOOSH.

Suddenly, Ethan wasn’t in a dusty parking lot anymore. He was standing in a lush, wide-open forest that looked like it had been designed by a landscape architect on a massive budget. The trees were absolute units—thick, tall, and fat, their trunks so wide they looked like they had spent the last century eating nothing but fertilizer. Below him was a sea of vibrant green grass, and above... a blue sky so clear it felt like he had just upgraded his vision to 8K resolution.

It was breathtaking. It was serene. It was a paradise.

Ethan snapped his head to the side, blinking rapidly. “Wake up, Ethan! Focus! Stop admiring the shrubbery!” he hissed to himself. “Credits. Money. Tuition. The deadline is tomorrow, and my sister basically treated me like a financial liability by keeping it a secret. Tsk. I’m so pathetic. I’ve reached a level of laziness where my own sister thinks I’m too emotionally fragile to handle a bill.”

He let out a long, dramatic sigh, his shoulders slumping. “She probably thinks I’ll just lie down and die of shock if I see a number with too many zeros. Great. My legacy is The Guy Who Was Too Lazy To Pay Utility Bills.”

Just as he was spiraling into a pit of self-pity, the bushes in front of him erupted.

CRASH!

Emerging from the greenery were several massive, green-muscled humanoid figures. They were Ogres. And these weren’t the ‘friendly’ kind of Ogres; these were the ‘I’m-going-to-use-your-ribcage-as-a-xylophone’ kind of Ogres. Each one of them had a gargantuan wooden bat, studded with rusted iron spikes, leaning casually over their shoulders.

The Ogres stared at the skinny, sleep-deprived human in their midst. To them, Ethan looked less like a hunter and more like a very strange, very pale snack.

Ethan didn’t flinch. He didn’t even move. He just looked at the spiked bats and then looked at the Ogres’ oversized noses.

“I guess it’s time to actually think about climbing the ranks,” he mused, his gaze locking onto the lead Ogre. “Because no matter how much the world evolves or how many gates open, money is always going to be the problem. And I am very, very tired of being broke.”

He took a single step forward, the aura around him shifting. The laziness was still there, but it was now draped over a hidden, sharpened blade of intent.

“Don’t worry, Mia. Tomorrow will be different. I promise.” He let out a short, sharp breath, his eyes flashing with a sudden, terrifying intensity. “So today... I guess I’ll actually have to put my heart into this. Which is a shame, because my heart really wanted to stay in bed.”

The lead Ogre didn’t wait for a formal invitation. With a guttural roar that sounded like a garbage disposal eating a bag of nails, the beast charged. The ground shuddered under its weight, each footstep sending tremors through the emerald grass.

Ethan flinched. He actually shivered, his shoulders hunching up to his ears, looking every bit like an E-Ranker who had accidentally walked into a blender. For a moment, he looked genuinely terrified, the sheer scale of the monster looming over him like a falling skyscraper.

But as the Ogre’s spiked bat raised high in the air, Ethan closed his eyes.

He didn’t see the monster. He saw Mia. He saw her counting those coins with those twitchy, anxious eyes; he saw her trying to hide the burden of tuition fees just so he could keep napping. They might not share the same blood, but in every way that mattered, she was his sister. And he refused to let her future be as stunted and exhausted as his own. He didn’t want her to end up like him—a man who viewed standing up as a high-intensity workout.

‘I’m scared to use this,’ Ethan thought, his breathing slowing down. Actually, I’m terrified. Using the abilities of the dead... it’s not a skill; it’s a cemetery. I don’t even know how I ended up with thousands of these ghosts clinging to my soul. It’s crowded, it’s dark, and it’s completely unnatural.

The Ogre’s bat was inches from his skull. The wind from the strike was already ripping at his clothes.

But if it can help us... then I won’t hesitate.

Ethan’s eyes snapped open. The boredom was gone. The laziness was gone. In its place was a void of absolute, crushing authority.

“Heavenly Demon.”

The words weren’t shouted; they were whispered, but they carried the weight of a thousand graveyards.

BOOM.

The air around Ethan didn’t just vibrate—it shattered. A geyser of oppressive, pitch-black mana erupted from his feet, screaming upward like a pillar of ink. The sheer pressure slammed into the ground, pulverizing the emerald grass and cracking the earth into a spiderweb of ruins.

Inside the vortex of darkness, Ethan’s form began to rewrite itself.

His casual clothes were consumed by a shimmering, monochromatic nightmare. A sleek, black organic armor materialized over his body, curving into sharp, predatory lines and jagged edges that looked like they could cut through dimensions. A high-collared, white garment draped over his chest and shoulders, contrasting violently with the abyssal black of his plating.

Then came the helm—a terrifying, stylized visor that obscured his human features, leaving only a sliver of glowing, predatory light. He looked like a god of the afterlife who had decided to dress for a funeral—specifically, the funeral of everyone in his way. He stood there, one hand casually tucked into his pocket, the picture of an effortless, divine executioner.

The Ogre, still in mid-swing, froze. For the first time in its primitive, muscle-brained life, the monster felt something it had never known: True, paralyzing dread.

Ethan didn’t use a weapon. He didn’t even move his arms. He simply tilted his head back and let out a roar.

BOOOOOOM!!!

It wasn’t just a sound; it was a physical shockwave. A violent, invisible blast of wind erupted outward from Ethan’s center in a perfect 360-degree circle. The roar sounded like a thousand dying stars collapsing at once.

The impact was instantaneous.

The Ogres—those massive, green walls of muscle—weren’t just pushed back; they were launched. They were sent flying through the air like discarded toys, crashing through the fat, thick trees and smashing into the distant bushes with enough force to level the forest. Trees snapped like toothpicks, and the once-serene greenery was replaced by a wasteland of splintered wood and unconscious monsters.

As the dust settled and the echo of the roar faded, a heavy, suffocating silence returned to the forest.

Ethan stood in the center of the crater, his white coat fluttering gently in the wind he had just created. He looked down at his black-armored hands, his voice coming through the helmet, now sounding deep, resonant, and terrifyingly calm.

“...Man, that took way too much energy. I’m already craving another nap.”

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And there we go—welcome to the Heavenly Demon! 🖤⚡

From scrubbing kitchen tiles to dropping full-blown divine authority in a C-Rank gate, Ethan’s shift in energy is real (even if he’s groaning the entire time).

Drop a Like if you’re rooting for Ethan’s tuition heist, and leave a comment with your favorite line from this chapter! See you in chapter! 🙌