The autumn wind had stripped the last of the gold from the trees surrounding Greenwood Academy, leaving the branches bare and skeletal against a steel-grey sky. Inside the Headmaster's office, however, the temperature was stiflingly hot—at least for Director Hanes.
Bill sat in the leather guest chair, his posture relaxed, his single eye fixed on the trembling hands of his superior. Hanes held a scroll sealed with dark purple wax. The imprint on the wax was not the Imperial Seal of Heaven Dou. It was a spider, stylized and sharp.
"The Supreme Pontiff," Hanes whispered, his voice cracking. He looked at Bill as if the teacher had brought a live grenade into the room. "Bill, do you understand what this is? This is a direct missive from the Papal Palace."
"I expected a reply," Bill said calmly, though his heart did a slow, heavy thud against his ribs. "Is it a rejection?"
Hanes unrolled the parchment with the care of a man handling a poisonous snake. He scanned the text, his eyes widening.
"Permission," Hanes breathed. "Granted. 'The dissemination of The Principles of Soul Mechanics is approved under the educational oversight of the Spirit Hall. All associated Spirit Hall Academies are encouraged to integrate the text.'"
Hanes dropped the scroll onto the desk and slumped back, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Great Heavens, Bill. You have the backing of the Pope. Do you know what this means? The Empire can't ban it now. The Clans can't suppress it."
Bill picked up the scroll. The parchment felt heavy, imbued with a faint trace of soul power. It was a shield.
"It means," Bill said, a small, cold smile touching his lips, "that we need more ink."
—————
The following weeks were a blur of industrial revolution.
With the official sanction of Spirit Hall, the brakes were off. Bill didn't just print the book; he redesigned the vessel of knowledge. Traditional scrolls were cumbersome. Noble books were heavy, bound in wood and thick leather.
Bill designed the "Pocket Edition."
It was a small, rectangular block, bound in treated canvas that was durable and water-resistant. The paper was thinner, pressed tighter. It fit perfectly into the pocket of a worker's tunic or a student's satchel. It was "oddly shaped" to the eyes of the locals, who were used to scrolls, but to Bill, it was the perfect paperback.
He sent crate after crate to the distribution hubs of the Spirit Hall. From there, they traveled on carriages to the far reaches of the Empire—to the snowy northern provinces, to the coastal cities, to the small villages bordering the Star Luo Empire.
And as the books spread, so did the connection.
Winter arrived in Silvershade with a vengeance. Snow piled high against the windows of Bill's manor. The fire in the library hearth roared, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
Bill sat in his armchair, a glass of dark wine in his hand. He wasn't reading. He was listening.
Not with his ears, but with his soul.
Since the Pocket Editions had gone wide, the Celestial Scroll in his soul realm had been screaming. It was a constant, low-level roar of data. Every time a child in a distant village opened page four and understood the concept of "leveraged strikes," a spark of energy traveled through the metaphysical web and landed in Bill's dantian.
It was the ultimate cultivation hack. He was crowd-sourcing his enlightenment.
[Feedback Loop Intensity: Maximum.][Data Stream: Continuous.][Current Rank: 54 (Spirit King).]
Rank 54.
He stared at the flames. In three months, he had jumped three ranks. At the Spirit King level, a single rank usually took a year or more of grueling meditation. He was moving at a speed that would terrify a Titled Douluo.
"Daddy?"
The door creaked open. Elara stood there, clutching a pillow. The triplets were six and a half now, growing like weeds.
"Can't sleep?" Bill asked softly.
"Jory is snoring," she complained, climbing onto his lap.
"He gets that from your mother," Bill chuckled, wrapping a blanket around her.
He activated his Fifth Soul Skill: Sonar Omni-Scan.
He didn't use the destructive frequency. He used the medical one—a soft, rhythmic pulse.
He saw the house in wireframe. He saw Jory and Finn in their beds, their hearts beating strong and slow. He saw Sarah in the master bedroom.
He focused on Sarah.
Inside her womb, a tiny, fragile shape was floating. The silhouette of a developing fetus. He could see the rapid flutter of a new heart, the forming spine. It was a boy. He knew it instantly.
"Is the baby sleeping?" Elara whispered, sensing her father's focus.
"He is," Bill said, stroking her hair. "He's dreaming of meeting you."
"I'm going to teach him how to bite," Elara said fiercely.
"I have no doubt," Bill laughed.
The domestic peace was a warm blanket, but beneath it, Bill's mind remained sharp. He was strong. His family was strong. But the world outside was getting colder.
—————
The next morning, the snow had stopped. It was a perfect day for a hunt.
Bill stood at the city gates. Behind him were five students.
From Class A: Elian (Wind Wolf) and Clara (Echo Flute). They had both hit Rank 20. From Class B: Three younger students who had reached Rank 10, beneficiaries of the new teaching methods.
"We move fast," Bill commanded, his breath misting in the air. "The cold makes the beasts sluggish, but it also makes them hungry."
He didn't hire mercenaries this time. He was a Rank 54 Spirit King with a Ten Thousand Year ring. In the periphery of the Sunset Forest, he was god.
The hunt was clinical.
For Elian, they found a Storm Hawk. Bill used his sonar to locate it roosting three miles away. He guided Elian on how to use the wind currents to approach silently. When the boy struck, it was with a Wind Blade that curved perfectly around a branch, severing the hawk's neck.
"Precision," Bill nodded as the yellow ring floated up.
For Clara, Bill found a Howler Monkey. Its vocal cords were capable of shattering wood. Clara absorbed the ring and gained Sonic Disrupt, a skill that could dizzy an opponent by vibrating the fluid in their inner ear.
The younger students watched in awe. They didn't see a teacher; they saw a commander. Bill moved through the forest with an economy of motion that was terrifying. He didn't step on twigs. He didn't disturb the snow. He was a ghost with a single, all-seeing eye.
By the time they returned to Silvershade, five new rings had been added to his army of students.
But the real news was waiting for him at the academy.
—————
"A visitor," Jenny whispered to him as he entered the staff room. She looked pale. "From the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan."
Bill's eye narrowed. "Here?"
"At the best teahouse in the city. The Jade Lotus. He invited you. He's been waiting for two hours."
"Who is it?"
"A scholar. But… he has an entourage."
Bill didn't go home to change. He went straight to the Jade Lotus. He wore his hunting gear—leather armor, travel cloak, mud on his boots. It was a calculated move. He wasn't a noble courtier; he was a working teacher.
The teahouse had been cleared of other patrons.
Sitting at a center table was a man in white robes embroidered with silver clouds. He was middle-aged, with glasses and a gentle, scholarly demeanor. But the two men standing in the shadows behind him radiated the pressure of Soul Sages (Rank 70+).
"Teacher Bill," the scholar stood up, smiling warmly. "I am Elder Su of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan's Archives. It is an honor."
" The honor is mine, Elder," Bill bowed slightly, keeping his distance. "Forgive my appearance. I was teaching in the woods."
"Practical education. Admirable." Elder Su gestured to the seat opposite him. "Please. The tea is fresh."
They sat. The conversation began as a dance.
"Your book," Elder Su tapped a copy of the Pocket Edition lying on the table. "It has caused quite a stir in the Capital. The Clan Master himself read it. He found the chapter on 'Meridian Flow Dynamics' to be… revolutionary."
"It is merely physics, Elder. Observed reality."
"Reality is often a matter of perspective," Su smiled. "The Clan Master believes that such a perspective is valuable. Rare. He wonders why a man of such insight is hiding in a satellite city."
"I am not hiding. I am planting seeds."
"Seeds grow better in fertile soil," Su countered smoothly. "The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan has the most extensive library on the continent. We have resources that make the Spirit Hall's stipend look like copper coins. We would like to invite you to the Capital. To… exchange ideas."
It was a recruitment pitch. And a subtle threat. Come to us, or we will wonder why you are with them.
"I am planning a trip to the Capital next week," Bill lied effortlessly. "To visit the Grand Auction. Perhaps I could pay my respects then?"
Elder Su's eyes lit up. "Excellent. I will inform the Clan Master. He will be eager to meet the architect of the new age."
—————
The trip to Heaven Dou City was necessary. Bill needed to gauge the scale of the board he was playing on.
He took a carriage, leaving Sarah and the kids under the protection of Korg (who was now on a permanent retainer).
Heaven Dou City was a monster. The walls were a hundred feet high. The streets were paved with white stone. It made Silvershade look like a slum.
Bill walked the streets, his cloak pulled tight. He felt the sheer density of soul power here. Spirit Ancestors were common. Spirit Kings were not rare. He saw the opulent carriages of nobles, the sprawling estates.
He went to the Heaven Dou Auction House.
He had gold. He had the royalties from the printing press, which were significant. He felt wealthy.
He bought a ticket for the VIP section, flashing his Spirit Hall medal.
The auction was a spectacle. Rare herbs, exotic metals, slave girls (which made his stomach turn).
Then came the finale.
"A Left Arm Bone," the auctioneer announced, his voice amplified by a soul tool. "From a ten-thousand-year Obsidian Bear. Grants the skill Gravity Control."
The crowd went wild.
"Start bidding at fifty thousand Gold Soul Coins!"
Bill froze. Fifty thousand.
"Sixty thousand!" "Eighty thousand!" "One hundred thousand!"
The price climbed with dizzying speed. Finally, it sold to a representative of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan for three hundred thousand Gold Soul Coins.
Bill sat in his plush chair, his hand gripping the armrest.
He had saved about five thousand gold coins. He thought he was a king. Here, he was a beggar.
The gap, Bill thought, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck. The resource gap is insurmountable. I can print a million books, but I cannot buy a single bone.
He left the auction house feeling small. The Printing Press was power, yes. But it was soft power. Hard power—Soul Bones, Ten Thousand Year Rings, Titled Douluos—belonged to the old money.
—————
The next day, Bill arrived at the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan's estate. It was a city within a city. A pagoda of seven colors dominated the skyline.
He was ushered into a private garden. The air smelled of jasmine and money.
Sitting in a gazebo was a man who radiated elegance. He wore white robes, impeccable and tailored. His face was handsome, ageless, and his eyes held a wisdom that seemed to pierce through Bill's soul.
Ning Fengzhi. The Clan Master.
Standing behind him was a man who looked like a skeleton draped in black robes. The Bone Douluo. A Titled Douluo. Rank 95.
Bill felt the pressure instantly. It wasn't an attack; it was just the gravity of their existence. His Celestial Scroll spun violently to keep him upright.
"Teacher Bill," Ning Fengzhi smiled, putting down his tea cup. "Welcome."
"Clan Master Ning. Your Grace," Bill bowed to both, acknowledging the Titled Douluo.
"Come, sit. Look at this."
Ning Fengzhi pointed to a small girl playing on the grass nearby. She was dressed in layers of expensive silk, looking like a porcelain doll. She was trying to build a tower out of wooden blocks.
"My daughter," Ning Fengzhi said, his voice dripping with fatherly affection. "Rongrong."
Bill looked at the child. She was about two years old.
Two years old.
The realization hit Bill like a thunderclap.
In the "memories" (the original timeline), Ning Rongrong was the same age as Tang San. If she was two, Tang San was two.
Tang San was currently a toddler in Holy Soul Village, mixing porridge for his drunk father.
The plot hadn't started yet.
He had four years until the Awakening. Ten years until Shrek Academy.
"She is beautiful," Bill said, his voice steady despite the racing of his mind. "And she has a focused spirit."
"She is spoiled," Ning Fengzhi sighed, though he didn't sound displeased. "But tell me, Teacher Bill. This machine of yours. It is… disruptive."
"Progress usually is."
"True. But progress without control is chaos. The Spirit Hall backs you. That worries me."
"The Spirit Hall gave me a license," Bill corrected. "They do not own my mind. I came here today because I believe knowledge should not have borders. Or factional loyalties."
Ning Fengzhi raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You are a dangerous man, Bill. You play both sides."
"I am a teacher. I play the side of the students."
"Well said." Ning Fengzhi gestured to the massive library building in the distance. "I invite you to browse our collection. We have texts on the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile support mechanics that might interest a man of your… analytical talents. In exchange, perhaps you could explain to our scholars how you calculate the 'Flow Efficiency' of a meridian channel?"
"I would be honored."
—————
Bill left the estate hours later. He had walked through the lion's den and survived. He had even secured a tentative alliance—or at least, a non-aggression pact—with the Clan Master.
But as he rode the carriage back to the hotel, the image of the two-year-old Ning Rongrong burned in his mind.
Two years.
Tang San was out there. The Son of Destiny. The man who would eventually overturn the Spirit Hall, kill Bibi Dong, and ascend to Godhood.
Bill looked at his hand. He was Rank 54. He was rich (locally). He had an army of children.
But against the tides of fate that were coming—the resurrection of the Tang Sect, the war of the Gods—he was still a bug.
I have ten years, Bill thought, watching the lights of the capital blur past. Ten years to become a Titled Douluo. Ten years to turn the Printing Press into something more dangerous. Ten years to secure my family.
He couldn't rely on the plot. He was a variable now. His books were already changing things. Tang San might grow up in a world where "Bill's Mechanics" were standard knowledge.
I cannot wait for him to save the world, Bill decided, his eye hardening. I have to own the world before he gets there.
He touched the Celestial Scroll in his soul.
It was time to stop being a teacher. It was time to become an Architect.
He pulled out a blank notebook.
Project: Gunpowder.Project: Soul Guidance Weaponry (Mass Production).Project: The Wolf Pack Academy.
He crossed out "Gunpowder" for now. Still too risky. But Soul Guidance Weaponry… adapting the printing press tech to print circuitry for offensive tools…
That was the key.
Bill smiled in the darkness of the carriage. The Capital had shown him his poverty. Now, he would go home and build his wealth.
[Current Status: Bill][Rank: 54 (Spirit King)][Timeline Check: Tang San Age ~2][Countdown to Chaos: ~10 Years][New Objective: Technological Superiority]