The copying progress bar crept forward, but Alex didn't bother watching. His mind was elsewhere, tangled in a thousand thoughts.
He had always known that the size of the C drive was linked to lifespan. That idea had come from Professor X, and after countless experiments, Alex had confirmed it himself. At birth, a person's C drive more or less determined how long they would live.
But what about the D and E drives? He had never really considered their meaning—until today.
Looking at Liu Jinyuan's capacities, a new theory took shape. The sizes of these drives also seemed to represent aspects of natural aptitude. Everyone was different, so naturally their drive capacities varied. From all the people Alex had met and examined, he'd found the average hovered around 100GB each, with small fluctuations not mattering much.
Drive F remained locked, but from the three drives he had seen, the total capacity usually added up to about 300GB. That seemed to be the balance point.
It was a kind of fairness. If someone excelled in one area, they tended to lag in another. That was why some people were brilliant gamers but terrible students—and why many top scholars struggled with coordination or practical skills.
Of course, there were exceptions—those rare few who were sharp both academically and practically. But perhaps they paid a price elsewhere, maybe even in lifespan. As the saying went: too much brilliance can burn out early.
Drive F might hold the missing piece, but until it unlocked, there was no way of knowing. For now, these were just Alex's conjectures—ideas that would need time and experience to prove.
Still, a trace of regret touched him. Judging from Jinyuan's massive E drive, his ability to process and retain knowledge was outstanding. That kind of mind was perfectly suited for magic, since magic demanded deep theoretical mastery. In truth, Jinyuan's natural path might have been sorcery rather than swordsmanship.
But for the moment, Alex finished what he'd begun. Jinyuan's D drive might have been small, but since his life had revolved around books, he had learned few practical skills—leaving plenty of free space.
Into that drive, Alex copied the Dugu Nine Swords, basic slashing forms, even defensive maneuvers like block and kick.
"I… I suddenly know so much…" Jinyuan's eyes widened as the transfer ended. A rush of combat techniques filled his mind, startling him.
So this was the initiation method—not just knowledge, but actual combat skills, ready at hand.
"Come," Alex said with a faint smile. He flicked his finger, sending the Sword spinning from its sheath and straight toward Liu Jinyuan.
Startled, Liu Jinyuan realized he had no true martial arts experience. His first instinct was to retreat—but he held his ground. With surprising reflexes, he reached out and caught the Unparalleled Sword firmly in his grasp.
At the same moment, Alex snapped off a branch and, with practiced ease, unleashed a flawless strike straight toward Jinyuan's face.
Jinyuan's heart leapt. Under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn't have been able to defend himself. But now, with the Unparalleled Sword in his hands, his body responded instinctively. He raised the blade and met Alex's branch with equal precision, steel and wood clashing in a crisp rhythm.
Alex pressed forward, relying purely on swordsmanship rather than inner energy. Jinyuan mirrored him, moving in perfect counterpoint.
Both were wielding the Dugu Nine Swords, and from the outside, their exchange looked like a contest between equals—strike for strike, parry for parry.
"I… I've actually learned martial arts?" Jinyuan gasped between movements, his face lighting with a mix of wonder and delight as his body responded with newfound skill.
Ding!
Alex flicked his branch with a snap, layering it with Armament Haki. The force knocked the Unparalleled Sword spinning upward before it dropped neatly back into its scabbard.
"You've absorbed the knowledge of swordsmanship and its techniques," Alex said evenly. "But your cultivation is still at zero. In the days ahead, you must practice the Sacred Heart Technique diligently. Without real strength to back it up, even the finest swordplay is only a shadow."
Jinyuan sobered instantly, nodding with genuine resolve. He understood well enough now—without a foundation, skill alone was meaningless.
Alex had already given him all he could: the knowledge and the tools. The rest was up to Jinyuan himself. As the saying went, a master opens the door, but the disciple must walk the path.
"I'll work hard," Jinyuan vowed, clenching his fists.
The Sacred Heart Art and Way of the Sword now etched into his mind filled him with hope—hope of truly becoming a master one day.
"Good," Alex said with a smile. "Keep pushing forward. To me, you're already the perfect man. I sincerely hope you and Lin Yueru find happiness together."
"Perfect man?" Jinyuan blinked, caught off guard by the term.
"In my hometown," Alex explained lightly, "we call an exceptional woman—beautiful, accomplished, graceful—a 'goddess.' The male equivalent is a 'perfect man.' And in my eyes, Jinyuan, you're exactly that. You're handsome, gifted, articulate, kind, and come from a good family. You check every box."
Even Jinyuan, normally composed, flushed at the stream of compliments.
"Well, if that's the case," he countered with a small smile, "then you too are a perfect man, Master."
"Me?" Alex raised his brows, taken aback.
"Yes," Jinyuan said seriously. "You're strong, skilled, unmoved by vanity or desire, and genuinely good-hearted. By my judgment, that makes you one as well."
And so began a round of mutual admiration—master and apprentice trading praise like sparring blows.
"Good-hearted?" Alex chuckled, half skeptical. "And how did you figure that out?"
It was the one trait he himself had trouble accepting. In his experience, especially in the darker worlds he'd seen, being too good wasn't always a compliment.