Silence.
A deathly stillness.
In Jiangcheng First Combat Arena, a venue capable of holding a hundred thousand people, the sound of a pin dropping could be heard with absolute clarity.
Lei Potian’s declaration of “Su Yu wins” still echoed beneath the towering dome.
But the minds of everyone present remained in a state of complete shutdown.
A thousand points of Qi and blood?
The Martial Master realm?!
For ninety-nine percent of the crowd, this term was far too distant, far too surreal.
The martial arts system of the Daxia Kingdom was built on rigid hierarchies.
One hundred points of Qi and blood made you a Martial Artist.
But a thousand points? That was ten times that—a true Martial Master, capable of releasing Qi and blood externally and condensing Qi into weapons.
In a third-tier city like Jiangcheng, a Martial Master could establish a sect and rule as a local powerhouse.
And now.
This terrifying aura of a Martial Master had appeared on an eighteen-year-old high school student wearing a washed-out old T-shirt!
“Boom——!!!”
A full thirty seconds later,
the stands erupted in a thunderous uproar that threatened to tear the venue apart.
“A Martial Master! Oh my god, he’s a Martial Master!”
“An eighteen-year-old Martial Master! Is he even human?!”
“This world has gone mad! I just saw a high school student become a Martial Master!”
At the edge of the crowd.
Li Jianguo, the homeroom teacher of Class Three, Grade Three at Jiangcheng Third High School,
lay slumped in his seat like a pile of mud.
He stared fixedly at the thin, hunched back on the arena stage—a figure radiating the terrifying Qi and blood of a god under the spotlight of ten thousand eyes.
Tears and snot smeared across his face.
He was laughing and crying at once,
a complete madman.
“A million… I drove away an eighteen-year-old Martial Master for a million…”
Li Jianguo slapped himself hard across the face.
The sound was sharp and crisp.
But he felt no pain.
He only felt the despair of plunging into an endless abyss.
He knew he was finished.
Not only was his teaching career over, but the Jiangcheng Martial Arts Association might even send him to a military tribunal on charges of “persecuting a once-in-a-generation genius.”
On the high platform.
The Grandmaster Lei Potian looked down at Su Yu on the arena below.
His aged, sharp tiger’s eyes churned with an almost terrifying, piercing light.
No one understood better than him what an eighteen-year-old Martial Master truly meant.
In the three hundred years since the Daxia Kingdom was founded,
martial arts had flourished, and geniuses streamed forth like fish crossing a river—countless beyond counting.
But those who broke the thousand-point Qi and blood barrier before the college entrance exam, stepping into the Martial Master realm at just eighteen years old?
They were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns!
No, even rarer than that!
In Lei Potian’s memory, the Daxia Kingdom’s archives recorded only three such instances in history!
Just three!
And those three individuals later became supreme Martial Gods who suppressed entire eras, charging through billions of beast waves seven times over.
They were the true pillars of the Daxia Kingdom.
Now,
a fourth had appeared,
right before his eyes,
in this remote Jiangcheng examination arena!
“Hah——”
Lei Potian exhaled a long, heavy breath.
The hundred thousand points of Qi and blood within him slowly settled.
He looked at Su Yu—this calculating, merciless, gaunt youth who was ruthless to both himself and his enemies.
The Grandmaster’s eyes no longer held the pity or condescension of before.
Instead, they shone with pure, equal admiration.
“You. Are. Excellent!”
Lei Potian spoke.
His voice was not loud,
but amplified by the Grandmaster’s intense Qi and blood, it easily overpowered a hundred thousand voices,
reaching every single ear.
A genuine compliment!
A Grandmaster with over a hundred thousand points of Qi and blood, in front of the entire city, had given the highest praise to an eighteen-year-old!
Su Yu stood at the center of the arena.
Beneath his feet lay Zhao Ze’s body, now slowly growing cold.
He lifted his head and met Lei Potian’s gaze.
In his deep eyes, there was no trace of flattery at the Grandmaster’s praise.
He nodded slightly.
“Thank you, President Lei.”
Neither humble nor arrogant.
This composure earned a silent commendation from Lei Potian.
But just as this moment of glory reached its peak,
a howl of ultimate venom and madness shattered the atmosphere.
“Good, my ass!!!”
Zhao Tianxiong’s eyes were bloodshot, his face twisted as if he had crawled out of hell.
He glared at Su Yu, his features warped beyond recognition.
“He killed my son! He’s a murderer!”
“President Lei! You’re the Grandmaster! How can you protect a murderer?!”
“I want him dead! I want him buried alive with my son right now!!!”
Boom!
The Qi and blood of a high-level Martial Artist surged wildly within Zhao Tianxiong. He ignored everything, desperate to charge back onto the arena!
The agony of losing his son had shattered all reason.
Now, only one thought filled his mind:
Tear Su Yu apart!
Grind this worthless civilian into dust!
But before he could take a single step,
“Hmph.”
An icy snort echoed from the high platform like a thunderclap.
Lei Potian didn’t even move—
just a glance!
Boom——!!!
The Grandmaster’s terrifying, near-physical aura shot across the space and slammed into Zhao Tianxiong!
Crack!
The knee caps of Zhao Tianxiong’s legs let out a brittle snap.
His entire body was pinned to the ground by that pressure, unable to move even a finger!
Cold sweat soaked him instantly.
“Zhao Tianxiong.”
Lei Potian’s voice was freezing, devoid of all warmth.
“Did you take the words I just spoke as wind passing by your ears?”
“On the arena, life and death are of no consequence. That is the iron law of the Daxia Kingdom.”
“Your son lacked skill and died in combat. His fate was sealed.”
“What? You want to trample Daxia’s rules right in front of me?”
“Or are you rebelling?!”
Those last two words
struck Zhao Tianxiong’s heart like twin hammers!
Rebellion!
If that charge stuck, not even a top-tier clan in the capital could escape annihilation, let alone a mere Jiangcheng martial arts gym owner.
Terror, absolute and pure, finally doused the madness in Zhao Tianxiong’s heart like a bucket of ice water.
Reason—bitter, humiliating—returned to his mind.
He understood.
He could not lay a finger on Su Yu.
If he dared to touch even a single hair on that young man’s head, Lei Potian would crush him without hesitation, and the entire Zhao family would be uprooted.
In the face of absolute power,
a clan’s influence and wealth were nothing but a pathetic joke!
“I… dare not…”
Zhao Tianxiong ground his teeth to dust and swallowed them with blood.
He pulled himself up from the ground with immense difficulty.
His bloodshot eyes locked onto Su Yu one final time,
as if etching that face into the depths of his soul.
Then,
he staggered to the edge of the arena,
lifted the limp corpse of Zhao Ze in his arms.
Without a word,
he turned and walked out of the combat arena.
His back was desolate, yet carried a poisonous hatred that made one’s heart tremble.
Su Yu watched the retreating figure of Zhao Tianxiong.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
If you don’t pull the weeds out by the roots, they’ll grow back come spring.
He knew that between him and the Zhao family, there was now a blood feud with no room for reconciliation.
Just then—
“Thud thud thud!”
A rapid burst of footsteps came from behind the arena.
A dark figure in black rushed recklessly onto the alloy platform, still bearing the scars of life-and-death combat.
Lin Xiaoxiao.
She had even lost her baseball cap in the rush, her high ponytail tracing a youthful arc through the air.
She dashed straight toward Su Yu.
“Su Yu!”
Lin Xiaoxiao grabbed hold of Su Yu’s arm.
Her pure, beautiful eyes still held traces of fresh tears.
She looked him over from head to toe, carefully, meticulously.
She touched his shoulder, then squeezed his arm.
No wounds.
No signs of depleted energy or pallor.
His muscles were as firm as steel forged through relentless tempering; the terrifying aura of a Martial Master still faintly radiated from within him—though restrained, it carried an unfathomable depth and breadth!
He really was fine.
He wasn’t at the end of his rope.
He was a genuine Martial Master.
Having confirmed this.
The enormous stone that had been weighing on Lin Xiaoxiao’s heart finally hit the ground with a heavy thud.
But then—
An overwhelming wave of emotion—a tangled mix of embarrassment, humiliation, and irritation—shot straight to the top of her head.
Her cheeks flushed crimson in an instant.
So red they looked as if they might bleed.
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.”
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?!
orn and Humiliation】【Forced Love】 In his past life, Lin Ran was betrayed and murdered by his girlfriend and family, while the yandere female aristocrat, who had treated him as a mere plaything, avenged him by doing in his enemies. Upon seeing the yandere female aristocrat lying in the same coffin, ready to die with him, Lin Ran realized how profoundly mistaken he had been. Reborn, he abandoned the fickle campus beauty and wholeheartedly embraced the yandere female aristocrat's arms. "Ran! If I dig out your eyes and turn them into a specimen, you'll only be able to look at me!" Lin Ran: "Darling, kiss me!" "Ran! If I break your legs, you won't run away anymore, right?" Lin Ran: "Love, hold me tight!" "Ran! If..." Lin Ran: "Hush now! Love me more!" Luo Yao: ... Seeing his scumbag dad: "Take him out!" Seeing his stepmother: "Get rid of her!" Seeing his brother: "Eliminate him!" Seeing his white moonlight: "Send that to Southeast Asia!"
] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"
