Tomb robbing: I was Buried alive in the Mausoleum of the First Emperor, I Get Stronger by Looting Corpses - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Finally, A Weapon!

Finding a secluded spot, Yang Yi silently commanded the system, “System, allocate all points to physique and mental strength.” The moment the words left his lips, a surge of warmth spread through his body, followed by a wave of cool energy rushing into his mind. The sensations clashed—one burning hot, the other chillingly cold—yet he could feel his strength rising, his thoughts becoming sharper than ever.

“System, display my status panel.”

As the energy settled, a translucent screen appeared before him, visible only to his eyes.

[Host: Yang Yi

Age: 20

Physique: 62 (Adult average: 50)

Mental Strength: 67 (Adult average: 50)

Skills: Basic Mohist Mechanical Arts

Unclaimed Lifespan: 20 years]

The stats were simple but revealing. As a disciple of the Mohist School, his physique had always been above average due to years of working with intricate mechanisms. His heightened mental strength, however, was likely a side effect of his transmigration.

Now, with his improved body, he had the advantage. If he could just get his hands on a weapon, coupled with his abundant food and water supply, he would be nearly untouchable in this place.

One-on-one, none of them would stand a chance against me.

The longer he waited, the greater his advantage would become. But according to the memories of his predecessor, the deeper parts of the tomb were guarded. These guards were not ordinary men but Huhai’s personal death squads, stationed to prevent the sacrificial prisoners from rioting, desecrating the tomb, or worse, harming the concubines who had been buried alongside the emperor.

That bastard, Huhai!

Yang Yi clenched his fists. The First Emperor had abolished human sacrifices. That was why the Terracotta Army had been created—to serve in place of real soldiers and concubines in the afterlife.

But Huhai, insecure about his illegitimate claim to the throne, had reverted to old traditions in a twisted attempt to honour his father’s spirit. The more Yang Yi thought about it, the more convinced he became—part of Qin Shi Huang’s reputation as a tyrant was likely due to the atrocities of Qin Er Shi.

Is this even the same Qin Dynasty from history?

Yang Yi shook his head, dismissing the thought. For now, he had to focus on survival. After ensuring no one was nearby, he shifted his consciousness into the system’s storage space.

The moment he entered, a wave of relief washed over him. Stacks of flatbreads and heaps of millet surrounded him, and in the centre stood a well brimming with crystal-clear water. He couldn’t help but smile. As long as he had food and water, he had a future. The system space was massive—at least a million cubic metres in size. With no air circulation and no time passage, the stored food would never spoil. Grabbing two flatbreads, he stuffed one into his robes and took a bite from the other. It was dry and flavourless, but to someone who had been starving, it tasted divine.

“If only I could loot some meat and vegetables next time.”

After finishing his meal and drinking a few gulps of water, a new thought took root in his mind.

I must loot Qin Shi Huang himself! In this era, no one had eaten better than him. If Yang Yi could get his hands on the emperor’s remains, who knew what treasures—or even the fabled “Dragon Qi”—he might acquire?

More than ever, his determination solidified. He needed to loot more bodies, grow stronger, and then slaughter the tomb guards. If he was lucky, he might even get to Qin Shi Huang’s remains before anyone else.

There was another pressing reason to hurry. According to rumours, Huhai hadn’t just ordered human sacrifices—he had entombed live concubines and palace maids to “mourn” the emperor. These women, still alive, were locked away in the depths of the mausoleum.

If I move fast enough, I might be able to save them. But Huhai had foreseen the dangers of burying so many living people together. That was why he had stationed his most loyal death squads in the tomb. These men—guardians of the First Emperor’s eternal slumber—were trained to ensure that no one, not even the other prisoners, survived long enough to escape.

Their mission was simple: Kill all the entombed prisoners. Then, die alongside them. Yang Yi had already accepted the reality of being locked in this tomb. If he wanted to live, he would have to fight, loot, and kill. There was no other choice.

The others? If they don’t die, where would I get resources?

A sudden scream tore through the corridor, snapping Yang Yi out of his thoughts.

“Murder! Someone’s been killed!”

The underground palace erupted in chaos—panicked shouts, hurried footsteps, the sound of bodies scrambling in fear.

It’s begun.

Yang Yi’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. Somewhere in the tomb, the first murder had taken place. The prisoners were finally turning on each other. But he remained motionless, resisting the urge to investigate immediately. Rushing in now would be reckless. He needed to wait, observe, and then act when the time was right. Minutes passed, then silence fell once more. Only then did Yang Yi begin walking toward the source of the commotion.

The underground corridors were long and winding, with only two directions—forward or backward. Heading deeper into the tomb was his only option. As he moved, he noticed a shift in the atmosphere. The prisoners who had once huddled in small groups were now scattered, each keeping a wary distance from the others. Paranoia had set in. Trust was dead. And soon, so would many of them. Finally, he found the body.

A middle-aged man slumped against the corridor wall, his body limp. There were no visible wounds, but bruising around his neck and faint scratch marks on the floor told the story—he had been strangled in his sleep.

Murder for food. Yang Yi’s sharp eyes caught a few crumbs on the corpse’s robes. The killer had stolen his rations. Pausing briefly, he crouched down and placed his hands on the body.

Ding! [Congratulations, host. Corpse looting, successful.]

Ding! [Congratulations, host. You have obtained:

• 100 jin of peaches
• 100 jin of plums
• One wooden bed
• One vegetable knife
• +5 points to physique
• +5 points to mental strength]

Yang Yi remained expressionless, but inside, excitement surged. Though he hadn’t looted lifespan, the addition of fruit made his diet more balanced. More importantly—he had acquired a weapon.

A knife wasn’t much, but in this place, even a vegetable knife could mean the difference between life and death. His safety and his combat ability—both had taken a massive step forward.