The sun hung high over the Blue Dragon Sect, a blazing white eye determined to bake the ambition out of every disciple standing in the Outer Sect Arena. The air was stagnant, thick with the suffocating smell of unwashed bodies, cheap weapon oil, and the copper tang of old blood. It was an oppressive heat, the kind that shimmered on the horizon and turned the air in one's lungs to hot soup.
It was the morning of the second day. The festive excitement had faded, replaced by the grim reality of elimination. You could hear it in the silence following a knockout, the weeping of squires dragging masters to the infirmary, and the desperate prayers to ancestors who weren't listening.
In the shadows of the waiting area, hidden behind a towering stack of rusted weapon racks, Jin Ryeong sat in the lotus position. His face was pale, cold sweat rolling down his neck despite the heat. His breathing was shallow and ragged, like a man running a marathon while sitting still.
In his trembling hand sat a small, verdant green sphere. The Spirit Gathering Pill.
To a genius of the Inner Sect, this pill was a snack—a morning boost popped like candy. To a core disciple, it was a weekly allowance. But to Jin Ryeong, a third-rate servant with meridians clogged like a sewer filled with stones, this was a fortune. Fifty silver taels. A month of starvation wages. The price of Han Su's dignity.
"Do or die," he whispered, his voice cracking.
He tossed the pill into his mouth.
Crunch.
The wax seal broke. It didn't taste like power; it tasted like battery acid mixed with rotten ginseng. Bitter, foul, and aggressive.
"Ghh..."
Jin Ryeong gritted his teeth, knuckles white as he gripped his knees. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the urge to retch.
The medicinal energy exploded in his stomach. In a normal body, it would flow like a gentle river to the Dantian. In Jin Ryeong's ruin of a body, the river hit a dam. The energy slammed against his blocked pathways, expanding veins until they bulged like blue worms. It felt as though he had swallowed live hornets that were stinging him from the inside out.
[System Alert]
[Foreign Qi Detected: Spirit Gathering Pill (Low Grade)]
[Compatibility: 5% (Abysmal)]
[Warning: Pain levels exceeding safety thresholds.]
'Shut up,' Jin Ryeong commanded his body, mind screaming. 'I don't care if it hurts. Eat it! Don't waste a drop!'
He channeled the discipline of a servant—the ability to endure humiliation and pain in silence. He visualized the energy as a drill, pushing it inch by agonizing inch through the sludge of impurities.
Time warped. A minute felt like an hour. The muffled cheers outside sounded like they were underwater. He felt the pulse of the earth, the vibration of footsteps, the beating of his treacherous heart.
Finally, with a sensation like a cork popping deep in his gut, a trickle of energy broke through. It swirled down, hot and violent, settling in his lower abdomen.
Not a flood. Barely a splash. But it was there.
Jin Ryeong exhaled a shuddering breath, expelling a cloud of grey, foul impurities. He opened his eyes. The world seemed sharper. Dust motes in the sunlight looked suspended in time. The rust on the weapons glowed vivid orange.
[Absorption Complete.]
[Base Qi: 1 -> 2]
[Experience Gained: +30 XP]
Jin Ryeong stared at the notification. He wanted to laugh, but he knew he might cry.
"One point," he murmured, looking at his hands. "Agonizing pain... risking rupture... for a single point."
It was the cruel reality of his existence. A genius would gain ten points without sweating. He gained one, and it nearly killed him. But as he clenched his fist, feeling the subtle hum of power, his eyes hardened. Before, his Dantian was empty. Now, it held a few drops.
He was still weaker than a farmer. But he was twice as strong as yesterday. In the System, that was progress.
"Servant! Where is my water?!"
Ma Goo's booming voice shattered the moment.
Jin Ryeong wiped the grime from his face, instantly shifting his expression from 'Cultivator' to 'Subservient Dog'.
"Here, Senior Brother," Jin Ryeong hurried over, offering a bamboo canteen, head bowed.
Ma Goo paced like a caged bear, his fighting robes stretched tight over his bulk. He snatched the water, splashing his face and gulping the rest. He looked nervous. His leg bounced uncontrollably. His eyes darted around, begging for reassurance.
"Did you see the bracket?" Ma Goo wiped his mouth. "I'm up against Li. 'Swift Blade' Li."
"Isaw," Jin Ryeong said calmly. "He is small. You are large."
"Exactly!" Ma Goo puffed his chest. "He's a twig. I'll snap him. One punch. Just one clean hit."
Jin Ryeong said nothing. He knew the truth. Ma Goo was a sledgehammer; Li was a scalpel. If the hammer missed, the wielder fell. And Ma Goo missed a lot.
"Next Match! Ma Goo of the Iron Fist versus Li of the Flowing Willow!"
The referee's voice echoed. The crowd roared, hungry for violence.
Ma Goo tightened his sash. "Watch me, Ryeong. Prepare the victory towel. I'll be back in ten seconds."
He marched into the blinding sunlight. Jin Ryeong followed, taking his place in the dirt among the other servants.
Opposite them stood Li. Lean, frail, ponytail tied back, holding a thin flexible sword. He looked bored, like he was pruning a garden.
"Begin!"
"DIEEE!" Ma Goo screamed, abandoning strategy. He charged like a boar, boots shaking the ground. Terrifying to a civilian, but Li didn't flinch.
Swish.
Li slid his left foot back and pivoted. Ma Goo's fist, carrying enough force to crack stone, occupied the empty space where Li's head had been. Momentum carried Ma Goo stumbling past.
"Too slow, fat boy," Li smirked.
Snap.
Li flicked his wrist. The blade's flat stung Ma Goo's buttock. An insult. A spanking.
The crowd erupted. "Look at him jiggle!" "Is he fighting or dancing?""Go home, pig!"
Ma Goo's face turned purple. The vein in his forehead throbbed. Humiliation hurt more than the blade.
"Shut up!" Ma Goo roared at the audience, then spun to Li. "Stand still and fight me like a man!"
"Catch me first," Li taunted.
Ma Goo attacked again. Left hook. Dodge. Right uppercut. Duck.
With every miss, Ma Goo's breathing grew heavier. He was burning stamina at an alarming rate.
Jin Ryeong watched with cold, analytical eyes.
[System Activation: Diagnosis Eye]
The world turned into a grid. Red lines traced trajectories.
[Target: Swift Blade Li]
[Style: Flowing Willow Sword]
[Pattern: 90% probability of stepping to the Left Flank.]
Jin Ryeong shifted his gaze.
[Target: Ma Goo]
[State: Enraged / Exhausted]
[Warning: Liver Qi Backlash Imminent.]
'Idiot,' Jin Ryeong cursed. Anger made Ma Goo predictable. One more missed power strike would reverse his Qi flow, causing paralysis. Li would carve him up.
If Ma Goo lost, Jin Ryeong's resources vanished. No pills. No protection. Back to cleaning toilets. The investment would be wasted.
'I cannot let him lose.'
Jin Ryeong looked around. The referee watched the fighters. The crowd laughed. The Elders drank tea, bored.
No one watched the servant.
Jin Ryeong spotted a smooth, grey pebble in the dirt. He crouched, pretending to tie his shoe, and palmed it.
He stood, eyes locking on the rhythm. One, two, dodge.
Ma Goo wound up for a massive, desperate haymaker. Telegraphed. Slow. Off-balance.
Li saw it coming. A cruel smile touched his lips. He prepared to step left—Ma Goo's blind spot—to cripple him.
'Now.'
Jin Ryeong called upon the tiny pool of energy in his Dantian. The Qi he had suffered for.
'Use it. The Qi that burns.'
He channeled 1 point of Qi into his fingers. For a second, they shimmered. The pebble felt weightless.
Flick.
Subtle. Hidden by his sleeve. The pebble flew straight and true, powered by cultivation, invisible against the grey dirt.
Thwack.
It struck the tender hollow behind Ma Goo's right knee.
"Gah!"
Ma Goo's leg buckled. His center of gravity collapsed. Instead of stepping forward, he fell downward like a toppling tower.
At that moment, Li stepped in, ducking low...
CRUNCH.
Fate is cruel. Ma Goo's falling fist met Li's rising face. A collision of geometric disaster.
Li's head snapped back. He spun in the air, blood spraying, before face-planting with a sickening thud.
Silence descended. Li didn't move. Ma Goo lay tangled in his limbs, blinking.
"Winner... MA GOO!" the referee announced, baffled.
The silence broke. "WHOA!" "He feinted!" "A low-altitude strike! Genius!"
Ma Goo scrambled up, looking at his throbbing fist, the unconscious Li, and the cheering crowd. Confusion morphed into a grin.
"Y-YEAH!" Ma Goo roared. "Take that! The... The Drunken Bear Fall! My secret technique!"
Jin Ryeong unclenched his hand.
[Base Qi: 2 -> 1]
His Dantian was lighter. He was back to trash. But it paid off.
[System: Crisis Averted. Reward: +60 XP]
Ma Goo ran over, smelling of ozone and victory, grabbing Jin Ryeong in a headlock. "Did you see that?! I tricked him! I knew he would step left!"
Jin Ryeong allowed the manhandling. "You are a tactical grandmaster, Senior Brother."
"Hahaha! We need to get ready for the next round!" Ma Goo whispered, eyes manic. "Make me faster, Ryeong. Whatever you did to my legs... do it to my arms. I want to be lightning."
Jin Ryeong straightened his robes. He looked at the desperation in the bully's eyes. Ma Goo was an addict, and Jin Ryeong was the dealer.
The hook was set.
Jin Ryeong offered a small, predatory smile.
"Of course, Senior Brother. I can make you faster than the wind. But the herbs required are rare. The price has gone up."
Ma Goo tossed his heavy coin purse. "Take it all. Just make me more powerful."
Jin Ryeong caught the purse.
'Pleasure doing business with you.'