Meng Ru walked past the rows of cages, his expression unreadable. He ignored the powerful-looking Moonlight Gu, whose crescent blades were the clan's signature offensive method. He bypassed the Jade Skin Gu, a popular choice for its defensive properties. His gaze swept over them all, his mind a whirlwind of calculation, weighing variables the other youths couldn't even perceive.
The other students watched, their envy warring with a confused anticipation. What ultimate combination would the A-grade genius choose?
His first choice made them frown. He stopped before a small, unassuming brown beetle. It was a Stealth Rock Gu, an earth-path Gu whose only ability was to help its user blend in with rocks and soil, provided they remained perfectly still. It was a Gu for hiding, for ambushes. A useful but decidedly unglamorous choice.
His breath choice deepened their confusion. He selected a Grasshopper Leg Gu. It was a common movement Gu that allowed for short, rapid hops. It was decent for traversing complex terrain but was easily outclassed in a straight race by other, rarer movement Gu. It was a practical, but thoroughly mediocre, choice.
The hushed whispers began. "Why would he pick those? The Moonlight Gu is still there!" "A stealth Gu and a jumping Gu? Is he planning to be a scout?"
But it was his third choice that turned their confusion into open mockery.
He walked to the very back of the room, to a section containing miscellaneous, almost useless Gu. He pointed to a small, dull grey cocoon, no bigger than his thumb. It was the Lesser Vigor Gu, a worm known to every villager. Its only function was to slightly alleviate physical fatigue. It was a Gu for mortal laborers, utterly worthless to a Gu Master whose primeval essence could eliminate fatigue entirely.
A snort of derisive laughter broke the silence. It was Gu Moon Bo.
"A Vigor Gu?" He sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "The great A-grade genius is choosing a farmer's worm! Are you planning to go back to chopping wood, river rat?"
The other students joined in the quiet laughter. The choice was not just strange; it was idiotic. It was a waste of the clan's resources, a spit in the face of his A-grade privilege.
The Academy Elder's face hardened, his brow furrowed in deep disapproval. "Meng Ru," he said, his voice dangerously low. "This is no time for games. Your choice determines your future. The Lesser Vigor Gu has no use for a Gu Master. Reconsider."
Meng Ru turned from the cages to face the Elder. His expression was as calm as ever. "There is no need. My choice is made."
He gathered the three cages. The Stealth Rock Gu, the Grasshopper Leg Gu, and the laughable Lesser Vigor Gu.
As he walked back to his spot, the other students parted before him, their expressions a mixture of scorn and pity. They saw a fool who had squandered a golden opportunity.
But Meng Ru saw something else entirely. He saw a long-term strategy. The Stealth Rock and Grasshopper Leg Gu were for survival. They were the tools he needed to navigate the dangers of the world outside the village walls. They were the means to an end.
And the Lesser Vigor Gu? It was the end itself.
He alone knew its secret. The archives of the clan were incomplete, the knowledge of the world fractured since the time of the Great Demon. But a scholar's mind, even one without memories, recognized patterns. He had seen a reference in an old, discarded text in the Elder's hall, a footnote about Gu evolution. The Lesser Vigor Gu, when nourished on the juice of a specific, bitter-tasting grass that grew on the dark side of the mountain and then refined with the carapace of a Rock Beetle, had a one-in-ten chance of evolving.
It could become the Unfettered Vigor Gu.
A Gu that did not need primeval essence. A Gu that, once refined, would merge with the user's body and passively, permanently, increase their physical stamina and recovery rate. It was a foundational change to the body itself. While others spent their precious primeval essence on healing and recovery, he would be able to endure more, train harder, and survive wounds that would kill others.
It was a long-term investment of immense value, hidden within a piece of trash.
Let them laugh. Let them choose their flashy, powerful Gu. They were all thinking about the next fight.
Meng Ru was thinking about the war.