In an unknown mountain,
A young man in a brown robe landed from the sky in front of a cave.
His appearance was remarkably similar to that of the same young man that a certain newly joined sect disciple had just beaten up.
And from his brown robe with the special pattern on it, it was apparent he was a sect elder from the Demoness sect.
On his waist, he had a token with the word "Law Enforcement" engraved on it.
The young man stood in front of the cave quietly.
Not long after, a female voice sounded from inside the cave:
"Did you bring it?"
The young man immediately took out a scroll from his storage ring and stretched his hand toward the cave respectfully.
"As you ordered, Senior Scarlett."
At this moment, from the young man's shadow, an invisible hand came out, and the scroll disappeared.
Cold sweat covered the young man's forehead.
He hadn't detected anything at all!
Not long after, the female voice sounded again:
"You can leave."
And at the same time, a different scroll was thrown out of the cave.
The young man caught it excitedly and asked,
"Will you join us in the capital, Senior?"
And the voice responded,
"Only if you fail for unexpected reasons."
Receiving the reply, the young man bowed respectfully and left.
But not far away from the cave, he suddenly felt something and took out a small token from his storage ring.
He looked at it and saw it was flickering with red light.
"What happened to that brat? Why did I lose connection with his token?"
The young man frowned and then left in a hurry.
....
The inn became deathly quiet!
Nobody believed what had just happened.
A little boy, barely 1 meter tall, had broken the young man's leg with a single kick, and when he lost his balance, he knocked him out with an uppercut.
It was as if both strikes were designed for someone as short as him to deal with grown-ups.
Accurate and flawless.
But the most bizarre thing was the aftermath.
Nobody knew what happened after he patted the small cage on his waist—the body of the young man had just disappeared!
The little boy, Mortal, under the fearful gaze of the crowd (who pretended to be blind), ran excitedly to his backpack while shouting:
"Did you record it? Show it to me! This was our 'first blood'!"
Who was he talking to?
Then, to everyone's surprise, an image appeared out of a rectangular crystal and started playing footage.
It was the same scene as when he took action just now.
Little Mortal happily watched to the end, but he suddenly looked around, coughed, and became serious again.
"Ahem, the evidence is recorded. Let's get back to business."
Then he climbed up to his backpack again, took out his little notebook, and started writing:
[ - List of Complaints to Sect Master -
1. No food service for new recruits
2. Impolite guard at the door
3. Lazy Elder Sun (sleeping at work)
4. Dirty city
5. Innkeeper who scares children
6. Human trafficker (has been dealt with)
7. No law enforcement inside the city ]
Then he was going to put the notebook back, but he saw the innkeeper on her chair, looking at him as if she had lost her soul...
Little Mortal was speechless once again.
"What in the world is so scary about a little complaint? Here, I erased the one with you in it. Are you happy now?"
The innkeeper finally started breathing again.
"Thank you for your magnanimity... S-Sect Master."
Little Mortal waved his hand.
"You're welcome, but don't scare children next time. By the way, is it possible for me to make an announcement here and put a notice in the inn?"
The innkeeper nervously said,
"Yes, yes, go ahead."
Who had the guts to say no to someone who made a black robe disappear?
Little Mortal stood up on his backpack and said:
"Everyone, please pay attention."
All the nervous onlookers stiffened. They slowly turned their faces toward him.
They didn't know if they were going to be silenced for witnessing what they weren't supposed to witness—or something else...
The young man who had disappeared was the son of the master of the Law Enforcement Hall.
He was so lawless that he had even kidnapped an inner sect female disciple!
They just didn't know if he had been saved from this little devil's hands by some special treasure or if he had been killed.
But the outcome of either scenario would be a disaster for them if his father showed up.
Little Mortal continued:
"Everyone, I am the new disciple of the Sect Master. My Daoist name is 'Sect Master.' Nice to meet you all."
And naturally, nobody dared to talk.
They just looked at him blankly, trying to process what he had just said.
He was the Sect Master's disciple, and his Daoist name was "Sect Master"?
It didn't make sense at all!
Looking at the blank faces, Little Mortal, with a dissatisfied tone, said:
"Everyone, now that I've greeted you, you should greet me back. What are you waiting for?"
The first to react was the innkeeper. She cupped her hands and said:
"Greetings, Sect Master!"
The rest suddenly understood why he looked disappointed—he was waiting for them to greet him back!
"G-Greetings, Sect Master!"
The crowd started greeting him immediately.
But even so, the little boy still seemed dissatisfied and shook his head.
"Listen to me! How can we be united if even your greeting is so disorderly? I want to hear everyone's greetings at the same time! One more time—after me!"
Then he loudly greeted them once more:
"I am the Sect Master. Greetings, everyone!"
This time, everyone—for reasons they didn't understand—cupped their hands, bowed slightly, and shouted in unison:
"Greetings, Sect Master!"
The people outside the inn, passing by, were dumbfounded!
When had the Sect Master ever come to their city?
Some curious ones peeked inside, but when they saw a little boy in a black robe at the end of the inn, they just ran away!
Inside the inn, Little Mortal nodded in approval, and the rest finally sighed in relief.
It seemed he was satisfied with their performance.
"Everyone, with the permission of my teacher—our respected Sect Master—I have the authority to accept followers from our outer sect city. Please, everyone, spread the news about this matter."
Then he looked around at the spectators and said:
"Now, I'm sure you're thinking, 'What's the use of being this little brat's follower?' Right?"
The crowd wanted to nod, but they tried their best to stop themselves and just looked at him blankly!
Little Mortal snorted, as if he knew they were pretending, and said:
"Let me tell you a secret that you might not believe."
Everyone suddenly became curious.
What secret was this evil brat going to share?
Little Mortal, hands behind his back, turned toward the window and, while looking outside with a seemingly profound gaze, said:
"I am actually... a middle-aged man. But the other day, before coming here, I shaved my mustache not to scare others."
You could hear some simple-minded people gasping in belief, while the rest were speechless...
They wanted to say:
'Little kid, do you hear your voice? You're speaking with a three-year-old's voice! And have you ever seen your baby face in a mirror? And look how short you are!'
But those were things they could only think—not speak aloud.
Little Mortal continued:
"But it seems to me not having a mustache is affecting my work here... So I'll use my divine technique to grow my mustache back and prove I'm telling the truth."
Then he started looking around until he saw a middle-aged man at the back with a horseshoe mustache.
The man shivered when he became the target—for reasons unknown!
He even saw the little boy start making some clumsy hand seals while saying:
"Divine Technique—Mustache Revival!"
After declaring the name of his divine technique, he opened the backpack lid and jumped in.
A short moment later, a middle-aged man—no, wait—
A little kid with a mustache jumped out and stood atop the backpack again!
The middle-aged man (and everyone else who saw him with the familiar mustache):
"..."
They even knew who had inspired this fake mustache.
Little Mortal looked at them, stroking his mustache with one hand and keeping the other behind his back.
"Do you believe me now?"
Everybody nodded this time.
"We believe you, 100%!"
They all thought:
'You were bored at home and came here to play as "Sect Master"? No problem—we'll play along with you. Just don't get us killed!'
Little Mortal, looking dissatisfied again, said:
"I couldn't hear you. Do you believe me now?"
This time, they all said together:
"We believe you, Sect Master!"
Little Mortal nodded.
"Good. Now, let me tell you about the benefits of becoming my followers."
"First, you guys have me as your...?"
He paused and pointed at some random guy, meaning "You finish my sentence."
The random guy nervously said:
"B-Backer?"
"Correct. With me as your backer, who—except the Sect Master—can bully you here? Huh?"
Then he pointed at a random lady at the back to answer.
The random lady, in a nervous voice, said:
"N-Nobody?"
"Exactly. And this is just the first benefit. The second one is... Spirit Root."
Everyone's eyes widened in surprise!
"Only one week! I promise, if I can't help every single one of my followers activate their Spirit Root by the end of next week, they are free to leave... But if they join me and I fulfill my promise, there's no turning back until you retire!"
Everyone's heart rate spiked. This was a dream most of them had forgotten.
Even the words "Spirit Root" felt like a forgotten name.
But now, this little kid was making such a promise!
They didn't know if they should believe such an unbelievable claim. It didn't seem possible at all, and they weren't sure if even a single word he said was accurate...
But even if there was the slightest ray of hope, they wanted to try it!
"If anyone has any questions, raise your hand."
The innkeeper was the first to raise her hand. When he nodded, she said:
"Sect Master, how many followers can you accept?"
She thought: If he's telling the truth—and if there really is a way for just a limited number to become cultivators—it's time to take the chance.
He answered:
"No limit."
Hearing his answer, everyone became sure of one thing:
This kid is talking nonsense. How can he say "no limit"? There are ten thousand people in the city! If such a promise were real, all ten thousand citizens would rush here to be this little guy's followers by evening...
At this moment, an old man at the back was about to raise his hand and ask if he knew how many people might try to become his followers with such a promise—
But then, a pressure suddenly fell upon them out of nowhere!
Not just on those in the inn—but the entire city.
Everyone kneeled on the ground against their will under the force!
Cold sweat appeared on every face in the inn.
They had indeed expected calamity after that young man was beaten up here... But this disaster had descended too quickly!
That disgusting old man—the master of the Law Enforcement Hall—was here!
A brief moment later, the inn door opened again. Outside, even in the street, people were on their knees.
This time, another young man entered. His face was highly similar to the previous one, but this one wore a brown Daoist robe with black patterns—he was an elder.
To be precise, he was the master of the Law Enforcement Hall—the same disgusting old man everyone feared.
Now and then, he and his son would take someone from the city to use them as ingredients for a pill called "Forever Young," which made them look youthful (though it didn't change their real age).
These two had been doing this for years, and the sect couldn't do anything about it.
Now he was here—probably because he had received news of his son's accident in the inn through some magical means only cultivators could use.
The "young man" slowly walked in and looked around until his eyes locked onto the only standing person in the inn:
A little boy in a black robe, with a ridiculous mustache, is looking at the people on the ground as if puzzled by the situation.
The little boy raised his head and looked at the "young man" in front of him, frowning.
After a moment, his eyes suddenly widened. He jumped down from the enormous backpack he was standing on and ran toward him.
The young man's gaze moved to the "fake" Sect Master token on his waist.
He was sure it was fake because in the past, he had made one for his son too—so he could play with it, show off to his friends, and act as Sect Master.
Little Mortal, with a doubtful face, looked at the "young man" and said:
"Are you the human trafficker from before?"
Hearing the question, all the kneeling people thought:
'No, he's not! They look alike, you stupid brat! Can't you feel this one is a thousand times stronger?'
The young man—who was wondering what kind of treasure made this kid immune to his pressure—smirked arrogantly and said:
"So what if I am?"
He wondered whose descendant this was—someone he didn't recognize?
Because of his elder position in the sect, he always wore an elder's robe instead of a black robe, but everyone knew his real identity.
The moment he spoke, Little Mortal's eyes widened in shock. He threw a kick at the "young man's" knee while shouting:
"You useless cage! How can you let him run away?"
Then came a "CRACK"—remarkably similar to last time—followed by a little boy's angry voice and a familiar uppercut!
"MORYUKEN!"
This time, the body didn't even hit the ground before disappearing—alongside the pressure on the city.
The people outside the inn assumed the big shot had finished his job and left the city after killing everyone inside.
But the people inside the inn were now scared out of their wits!
A second ago, they had been wondering who would be sacrificed to this old man.
But the next second, this little evil child had beaten up the big shot they feared most—with just two hits—as if there were no difference in power between him and his son!
They all thought:
'Is it possible that he really is a middle-aged man—and not a normal one, but a hidden expert?'
But a moment later, they regretted their thoughts...
They saw the little Sect Master—his mustache now crooked—angrily holding a chain with a cage at the end, smacking it against his backpack while yelling:
"You useless cage! What's the point of having you if you can't even keep a criminal inside for even an hour?"
When the innkeeper saw the anger of her future boss—and thought this unstable child might take his rage out on them next—she gathered all her courage and, in a trembling voice, said:
"S-Sect Master... they weren't the same person."
The moment Little Sect Master heard her, he stopped and slowly turned around with a confused face.
He was about to say something, but as he turned, he spotted his mustache on the ground from the corner of his eye...
Everyone's heart trembled!
Now that the little Sect Master's "Secret technique" had failed—and they had seen it—would they be silenced?
But Little Mortal acted like nothing had happened.
He looked at the innkeeper lady and said:
"Are you the Sect Master, or am I the Sect Master?"
The innkeeper gulped and said:
"Y-You are."
Little Mortal frowned.
"Do I know better if they were the same person, or do you know better?"
Everyone could see that with every sentence, he was inching closer to his mustache—until he was right beside it.
The innkeeper pretended not to notice and said:
"Without doubt, you, Sect Master, know better."
Little Mortal pointed outside and said:
"Look—there's even another one like him outside, riding a dragon!"
Despair surged in everyone's hearts once again!
How was this possible? Another one? Riding a dragon? Is he the grandfather?
They hurriedly turned to look behind them...
But there was nobody there!
Puzzled, they slowly turned back—and saw Little Sect Master, with one hand behind his back and a smug smile, now stroking his mustache while looking at them with an air of seniority.
They thought:
'So he tricked us into looking away so he could put the mustache back?'
Little Mortal shook his head.
"He was too fast. You guys missed it."
Everyone looked at each other, then—all together—cupped their hands and said in unison:
"Sect Master knows better!"
They had found a way to play along without getting killed!
He wasn't that hard to satisfy after all.
Little Mortal smiled arrogantly and nodded in approval.