Nathan strolled deeper into Ian City, the late afternoon sun casting warm golden light over the bustling streets. The noise of the market stretched in every direction — vendors hawking fruits and herbs, children chasing stray chickens, the rhythmic clang of a blacksmith hammering metal, and cultivators wrapped in flowing robes strolling confidently as if the whole world existed purely for their convenience.
Nathan inhaled deeply, savoring the energy.
"This city might be the smallest in the East Continent," he muttered, "but it has more life than my entire old world neighborhood."
He walked past a stall selling spirit fruits glowing faintly with natural qi. A child tugged at his mother's sleeve, begging for one. The mother sighed, counting a few copper coins and shaking her head. The boy pouted but didn't cry.
Nathan watched the scene quietly.
"Different world… same struggles," he murmured.
But then his facial expression shifted — sharper, more focused.
He reminded himself of the mission.
Recruit 3 disciples with potential above 50.
Time: 5 months.
Failure: literal, actual, no-joke DEATH.
He exhaled sharply.
"No pressure," he whispered to himself in a dramatically sarcastic tone.
With a casual flick of his wrist, he summoned the potential scanner from his inventory. The device was warm in his palm, the crystal in its center glowing faintly like a heart beating under soft light.
Nathan scanned the crowd discreetly as he walked.
Potential: 11
Potential: 19
Potential: 26
Potential: 31
He sighed each time.
"Why is finding a genius harder than finding someone who owes the tax collector money?"
He continued scanning.
Potential: 14
Potential: 7
Potential: 42
Nathan stopped.
"Forty-two? Better but still not enough…"
He kept going.
Potential: 5
Potential: 17
Potential: 28
He scanned a man loudly arguing with a vendor about fish prices.
Potential: 2
Nathan shut his eyes.
"Yeah, that tracks."
He walked for almost twenty minutes before drifting toward a quieter part of the city — a long street lined with training courtyards, weapon shops, and cultivation supply stores. The air here smelled of sweat, metal, and burning incense.
It felt alive in a different way.
"This might be a better place to find talent…"
Nathan held the scanner low and began again.
Potential: 8
Potential: 16
Potential: 33
No luck.
He reached a small open training ground where young cultivator hopefuls practiced basic martial stances under the guidance of a stern, gray-bearded instructor.
Nathan leaned against a wall, scanning the group.
Potential: 24
Potential: 35
Potential: 18
Potential: 29
"Everyone is so… normal," Nathan complained internally.
If his first potential disciple, Lia, was a rare gem… the rest of the city seemed filled with gravel.
He sighed and moved on.
He was just about to scan a passing cart when—
A sharp cry echoed from the end of the street.
"STOPHIM! THIEF!"
Nathan's head snapped toward the sound.
A boy — no older than twelve — darted between the crowd like a street fox, clutching a loaf of bread as if it were the world's greatest treasure. Behind him, an angry bakery owner stormed after him with a rolling pin raised like a deadly weapon.
The boy slipped, recovered, and sprinted down the narrow alley.
Without thinking, Nathan whispered:
"Scanner, quick."
The device glowed.
Potential: 68
Nathan's eyes widened.
"A genius thief!?"
He didn't waste a second.
He sprinted after them.
Nathan darted into the alley, nearly tripping over a stack of wooden crates. The boy was fast — unbelievably fast — his small body weaving through obstacles like he'd been chased his whole life.
Nathan pushed harder.
"HEY!" he shouted. "Kid!"
The boy didn't look back.
Nathan growled under his breath.
He couldn't let a 68-potential runaway slip away.
That would be a tragedy, a loss, a crime, a—
More importantly, he would die if he failed the quest.
He sprinted faster.
They turned corner after corner, the alley twisting through tight passages. Laundry hung overhead, chickens scattered in fear, and old jars toppled as the boy zipped past.
Nathan's robe flapped wildly behind him, making him look more like a panicked deity than a future sect master.
Finally, they burst into a quiet courtyard behind a set of abandoned buildings.
The boy skidded to a stop, cornered by a wall.
Nathan slowed his breathing, raising both hands calmly.
"Easy, easy… I'm not here to hurt you."
The boy glared, tightening his grip on the bread like it was gold.
"Stay away!" the boy barked. "I'm warning you!"
Nathan blinked.
"That's my line," he muttered.
He quickly composed himself.
The kid had sharp eyes, wild hair, bruised knees, and an expression shaped by hunger, struggle, and a life with no softness in it.
Nathan approached with slow, measured steps.
"You're a fast runner," Nathan said with a gentle smile.
"Too fast to be ordinary."
The boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"You… what do you want?"
"I want to talk," Nathan said honestly.
"Talk?" the boy scoffed. "People like you don't talk. You either hit me, chase me, or turn me in."
Nathan winced internally.
Wow. Life's been harsh to him.
He shook his head.
"No. I'm here because I see something in you. Something rare."
The boy tensed, ready to bolt again.
Nathan stopped walking and slowly lowered himself to sit on a nearby crate.
"I'm not in a hurry. Run if you want. But just hear me out before you do."
The kid blinked, confused.
No adult had ever spoken to him like this.
Nathan waited.
The boy grit his teeth.
"You got ten seconds."
"Deal," Nathan said immediately.
He pointed at the loaf of bread.
"You stole that because you're hungry, right?"
The boy flinched, but said nothing.
Nathan continued softly:
"That's not weakness. That's survival. You're clever, quick, and sharp. You escaped three adults, dodged a full crowd, and outran me."
He leaned forward slightly.
"But that's not all."
The boy hesitated, listening without meaning to.
"You aren't just fast," Nathan said. "You're talented. More talented than most cultivators in this city."
The kid froze.
His lips parted slightly, disbelief written across his face.
"Me? A cultivator? Don't joke with me!"
Nathan shook his head.
"I'm not joking. Your potential is extremely high."
The boy swallowed hard.
"…What's potential?"
Nathan's smile turned gentle.
"It means you could become strong. Stronger than anyone in this city. Strong enough to never go hungry again. Strong enough to protect yourself."
For the first time, the kid's eyes showed something besides suspicion.
Hope.
But it flickered like a candle in the wind.
"You're lying," he whispered, voice cracking. "No one says things like that to someone like me."
Nathan's expression softened.
"I do."
Silence filled the alley.
Nathan rose slowly and extended his hand.
"You can come with me. Learn from me. Become something more."
The boy stared at the hand.
His fingers twitched.
He took a shaky breath.
A war battled inside him — fear, desperation, hope, disbelief.
But then—
A shout echoed from the distance.
"THERE HE IS!"
The baker and two guards rounded the corner.
The boy panicked.
Nathan stepped forward instantly, shielding the boy behind him.
"Stay behind me."
The guards charged.
Nathan lifted his hand calmly.
"Stop."
A sharp wind burst from behind him — a natural pressure radiating from his new soul strength and the lingering essence of the Void Asura Sutra.
It wasn't cultivation, but the guards stumbled backward, stunned by the sudden invisible force.
The kid's eyes widened.
Nathan's voice was cold, confident, and utterly unyielding.
"He's with me."
The guards hesitated.
Ordinary people could not produce such presence.
The older man swallowed nervously.
"…S-Sorry, sir. If he's under your protection, we'll… step back."
They fled without another word.
Nathan slowly turned toward the boy.
The kid stared at him as if seeing a mythical beast.
"You…" the boy whispered, trembling.
"You're really strong."
Nathan smiled calmly.
"So? Will you come with me?"
The boy bit his lip.
"…What's your name?" he whispered.
"Nathan."
"And… what do I call you?"
Nathan paused.
Then smiled.
"You can call me Master."
Silence.
Then slowly, hesitantly—
"…Okay, Master."
The scanner chimed softly:
DING.
> [Potential Disciple Identified: Unknown Boy (Potential: 68)]
[Status: Accepted]
Nathan's heart soared.
"One genius secured," he whispered.
"One considering. One more left."
He looked toward the sky, determination burning in his eyes.
"This world better prepare itself."