"Apprenticeship?"
"Calling him boss?"
Cao Cheng left the community, his body honed with counter-surveillance skills. Under the dim streetlights, his figure moved deliberately through blind spots—places the gangsters would never notice.
Until they entered the alley. Cao Cheng followed from the other side, separated from them by just a wall.
With sharp ears and keen eyes, he caught every word they said.
Now he understood—after their last encounter, this "Dragon Brother" Kuang Long had been beaten into submission and wanted to pledge loyalty?
Well…
This was a bit tricky.
Young Master Cao had no intention of gathering society’s dregs. Didn’t they know a crackdown was coming in a few years?
He didn’t want to get dragged down by them.
Sure,
he could educate them, set them straight, and do society a favor. But with no personal ties, Cao Cheng couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort.
Besides, they weren’t women.
As the chosen one of fate, if he were to take in gangsters, they’d have to be female gangsters.
A bunch of men?
Does that make sense? Does it?!
Of course,
female gangsters shouldn’t be wasted, male gangsters… shouldn’t be spared!
With such a wave of emotional value delivered right to his doorstep, naturally, he’d pocket it all.
……
Cao Cheng arrived at the mouth of the alley.
Inside, the group was still squatting, deep in discussion. Kuang Long was rambling on and on without end.
Since when did gangsters spout so much nonsense and lecture people?
Spouting rhymes like that—are you prepping for grad school?
"Hey—"
Cao Cheng stood at the dim alley entrance and barked.
Whoosh—
The gangsters all turned, startled. Their faces twisted into menacing scowls, cigarettes dangling from lips or clutched in hands—a scene that looked downright vicious.
"So it’s you guys. I knew someone was tailing me."
"Seems like last time wasn’t enough of a lesson."
"Memory that short?"
Cao Cheng spoke, not giving them a chance to respond.
Kuang Long’s face lit up at the sight of him, but hearing his tone, he quickly scrambled to his feet, trying to intervene: "Misunderstanding—"
Before he could finish, Cao Cheng was already lunging forward.
Another chop to the neck—not too hard, not too soft.
Just like last time.
Kuang Long’s face instantly flushed red. Clutching his throat, he dropped to his knees with a thud, unable to speak…
The other gangsters saw their boss struck down and roared to their feet: "Brothers, get him!"
Kuang Long’s heart sank in despair.
No.
Boss, let me say something first!
We’re not here for revenge.
Ugh…
What did my neck ever do to you?
A neck chop—in the underworld, this was called "drinking cola." Like sprinting a thousand meters and then chugging a soda—your throat goes numb, speech fails, and you’re left miserable.
A few seconds later…
Kuang Long watched helplessly as his underlings collapsed, clutching their weak spots, moaning or howling in pain.
At least no arms or legs were broken.
"Drinking cola" was agonizing but not life-threatening.
"Bring more men next time. This trash isn’t even enough for a warm-up." Cao Cheng tossed the words over his shoulder and bolted.
No time for chatter.
He couldn’t let this misunderstanding clear up—otherwise, he wouldn’t have an excuse to beat them up next time.
A thousand points of emotional value deposited.
Fewer gangsters this time, missing a few faces.
But the emotional yield was double the last haul.
Meant most of them had been bottling up resentment, and this time, it all exploded out.
So,
next time he beat them, he’d probably rake in close to two thousand.
Such prime emotional loot—couldn’t let them swear loyalty and ruin it.
Watching Cao Cheng’s retreating figure,
Kuang Long stretched out a hand, wanting to call him back, but all that came out was a choked "gah—gah—" His other hand clutched his throat, face twisted in discomfort…
Kuang Long genuinely wanted to acknowledge Cao Cheng as his mentor, to learn his "arts."
But after getting beaten, negative emotions still flared—even if he didn’t hate, pain and misery lingered.
Over ten minutes later,
the gangsters finally helped each other up.
"Boss, that bastard… hits way too hard, damn—" One underling clutched his waist, grimacing like he was constipated.
Kuang Long rasped: "You should be thanking your lucky stars. If he saw us as a real threat, losing limbs would’ve been easy. Now you see what ‘arts’ are? Total dimensional crushing. You even know what that means?"
What gangster understood that?
They knew how to spend money on women, but "dimensional crushing"?
This generation—all idiots.
"Now, I’m going to apprentice under him, call him boss. Anyone got a problem with that?" Kuang Long croaked.
This time, no one openly objected—but they weren’t happy either.
Why?
Two beatings, and we just let it go?
Seeing his men’s conflicted expressions, Kuang Long knew they were still fuming.
Honestly,
he wasn’t feeling too great either. He shook his head. "Let’s go, rest up. We’ll try again tomorrow."
"Again?!" The underlings paled.
Come on, boss.
Can’t we just stay far away?
He’s not gonna chase us down, right?
"We’re coming back." Kuang Long’s voice was firm.
He’d made up his mind.
Next time, no talking. Just drop to his knees and kowtow—no way that could be misunderstood.
As for why not go to Cao Cheng’s home? They didn’t dare enter the neighborhood—didn’t want to tarnish their "boss’s" reputation. Such was the tragedy of gangsters.
Even turning over a new leaf came with strings attached.
……
……
Cao Cheng returned to the neighborhood in high spirits.
This time, he hadn’t hit too hard—just enough to keep them down for a few minutes. By tomorrow, they’d be fine.
Wouldn’t interfere with their next visit.
One-time feast or a lifetime of meals? Cao Cheng knew the difference.
As for whether they’d show up again, he wasn’t worried. Even if they chickened out, he’d track them down at their usual haunts and beat them one by one.
Prime emotional loot—couldn’t let it go to waste.
Stack those resentment layers, milk them dry.
After bidding the aunties goodnight, he headed home.
The system had finished upgrading.
But since he was outside, Cao Cheng hadn’t checked yet.
This update seemed packed.
He’d need a quiet place to go through it properly.
Back home,
he found the sisters sipping tea.
The deep purple brew had faded—they’d drunk quite a bit.
The washing machine rumbled in the background; they’d done laundry.
The kitchen was tidied up too.
Nice!
Cao Cheng circled the kitchen.
Ren Yuege followed, chest puffed with pride. "So? First time washing dishes. Clean, right?"
"……" What was there to brag about?
Cao Cheng picked up a plate, rubbed it. "You didn’t rinse off the detergent. Trying to poison someone?"
Ren Yuege’s face fell. "No way! I rinsed them!"
"Feel this. Still slippery."
[Ding~~ Negative Emotion +20]
Huh?
This time, Cao Cheng could distinctly sense the "embarrassment" and "shame" radiating off her.
A system upgrade perk—more detailed feedback now.
"But for a first try, not bad at all."
Cao Cheng smirked. "Tomorrow, I’ll cook a feast. Consider it a welcome."
[Ding~ Positive emotions +2]
A hint of 'happiness' and a trace of 'gratitude' emanated from Ren Yuege.
Ren Yuege pouted and said, "Hmph, I'll wash them again. Just wait—tomorrow, I’ll make sure they’re spotless."
Cao Cheng smiled and nodded. "Go for it."
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
ine. During your journey, you save an abandoned baby girl and become her elder brother】 【You rely on each other, becoming each other's support】 【At the end of the simulation, you shield the now-grown girl with your life, sacrificing yourself to block numerous demonic cultivators. You die, and the light in the girl's eyes fades】 …… 【Second Simulation: You are transported to a world where steam and magic coexist】 【You immerse yourself in the study of magic, obsessed with its research. One day, while out, you encounter a half-blooded demon girl wandering the streets. You take her in as your student】 【You teach the demoness what it means to be human, show her the beauty of the world, and nurture her into a miracle that surpasses even the gods】 【At the end of the simulation, you die of old age in front of the nearly immortal demoness due to your mortal lifespan】 …… One simulation after another, one encounter after another. Xu Xi suddenly felt something was off: "Wait, you said you're coming to the real world to find me?"
