When he was at the fifth tier, he thought, "There are so many fifth-tier cultivators. Better play it safe and wait until I reach the sixth tier."
At the sixth tier, he figured, "Many are stuck here for life. Once I hit the seventh tier, I’ll stand above the rest."
By the seventh tier… only the eighth tier would truly set him apart.
Now, at the eighth tier…
He had settled down—a family, a career, a respectful wife, and filial children. The fire in him had long since faded.
In his youth, he once famously said, "Only those who lack confidence in their future see patience as humiliation."
But these days, he no longer repeated those words.
Chen Yuan cursed with a laugh, "Damn it, always calling me out like that. Aren’t you afraid of dying? If something goes wrong later, I’ll be the first to send you straight to the Source Realm."
Since the martial exam had only just begun, the frequency of battles wasn’t too intense yet, leaving them some room for banter.
Soon, three minutes passed, and rescue personnel appeared on the scene, swiftly lifting the injured female candidate onto a stretcher.
For the most part, Chen Yuan occasionally gave Su Qi some pointers while spending the bulk of his time issuing orders to his subordinates.
Gradually, two hours slipped by.
The candidates’ situation had stabilized.
Those who remained were either strong enough or knew better than to push their luck.
His workload dropped sharply.
He even found time to brew himself a cup of coffee.
After all, twelve straight hours on duty wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.
Just as Chen Yuan stirred his energizing coffee with a silver spoon, a proctor’s shout cut through the air.
"Anomaly in the southeast sector!"
The roar of an explosion shattered his moment of peace.
Chen Yuan turned to the screen handed to him by an aide.
His pupils reflected towering flames.
The area looked as if struck by heavenly fire—rocks shattered, a mushroom cloud of smoke rising into the sky.
Before they could even assess the situation, a second burning meteor streaked across the horizon.
The air warped under the scorching heat.
Then, rain clouds rapidly gathered over the ruins.
But the downpour did nothing to quell the spreading panic.
Surviving candidates crawled out of the wreckage, staring blankly at the transparent shields now enveloping them.
A fire mage in ornate robes glowed with an eerie crimson light.
Meanwhile, the transfer student from Testing Ground E-6 stared in confusion at his "Ultimate Weapon Card."
The explosion had been triggered by his card—yet it wasn’t his doing.
"Why… is my character card out of control?"
"And why has its destructive power jumped a whole tier? This is seventh-tier devastation now!"
Legends spoke of card backlash, but such cases were vanishingly rare.
It usually happened when card masters abused their cards—say, abandoning their role as wielders to become "inserters," lusting after their own cards.
Or when cards were influenced by some external, anomalous force.
The monitoring room erupted into chaos.
Chen Yuan’s face darkened as he shot to his feet.
"Alert all rescue teams in the southeast sector!"
"Emergency! Possible Descender incursion! Initiate protocol—evacuate all candidates in the southeast immediately!"
This was just like him.
Always playing it safe.
Earlier, he’d handled the female candidate’s situation flawlessly.
But when faced with a potential anomaly, his first instinct was: No risks.
The scene on the ground was far worse than the monitors showed.
The fire mage’s surroundings rippled with heat, the air scorching.
The transfer student wielding the card looked terrified—he couldn’t sever the connection. His spiritual energy was being forcibly drained by the card.
But that alone wouldn’t have made Chen Yuan order a full evacuation.
Within a minute, every character card in the southeast sector had rebelled.
Though rare, enough candidates possessed them to cause over twenty incidents across the vast area.
The situation was dire.
Many candidates were strong, but no one stepped up to lead.
Their will to fight back was weak.
They hoped someone else would act while they conserved energy for higher scores.
Others simply fled.
As if the so-called "martial exam" had clouded their judgment.
Disorganized and demoralized, they couldn’t mount an effective resistance.
Meanwhile, the rogue cards moved with eerie coordination. After causing some destruction, they began converging in one direction.
Suddenly, Chen Yuan remembered something. "Switch the feed! Switch it now!"
"Check if that candidate Liu Yuan is in our sector."
"And locate her Black Knight card—where is it now?"
"That card showed at least seventh-tier strength during the arena tests."
"If it gets boosted another tier… an eighth-tier attack focused on offense could shatter the sub-ring’s defenses!"
"Tell Su Muxue to intercept it immediately!"
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
