Still, it was something he had to do. Ryuji didn't think he had what it took compete with Orochimaru.
Sure, Orochimaru had suffered the humiliation of being sealed away by the Third Hokage, but that was different Orochimaru had the ability to use all five nature transformations. Ryuji, on the other hand, enjoyed no such special treatment.
And if he went to Mai Shiranui's world, well, his first priority would of course be taking Mai's virginity. But beyond that, Ryuji genuinely wanted to fight with those fighters.
Even if some of them weren't as strong as he was, every single one of them carried a fierce, unclouded fighting spirit, something Ryuji himself lacked. He wanted to suppress his own strength, battle those warriors head-on, clash with their wills, and in doing so, temper his own spirit until it reached the point of true "awakening."
Of course, he knew that such sparring could only refine him to a degree. To truly awaken, he would either need to risk everything in a desperate, all-out battle… or seize that rare chance at sudden enlightenment.
No one could guarantee they'd break through in the middle of a life-or-death fight. Enlightenment might also be rare, but if you built up enough experience, the chance was always there.
That was why Ryuji had no intention of abandoning either path.
This, he believed, was the proper way to train not blindly chasing last-minute breakthroughs.
"So once I finish up here… should I head to the Naruto world next? I've got a feeling my style would be a terrible mismatch if I went to Hogwarts."
Ryuji was well aware of the problem.
Harry Potter was a children's fantasy story at its core, built on the theme of "love conquers all." But Ryuji? Ryuji was a harem king. If he went there, the most likely outcome wouldn't be magical adventure, it would be him taking advantage of the post-Cold-War arms surplus, throwing money around, and stockpiling weapons and supplies.
He could already picture himself abusing the Extension Charm until he could stuff a full-sized aircraft carrier into an enchanted suitcase. Then, if anyone got in his way, he'd just pop open the box and unload carriers and tanks onto the battlefield.
After that? Raiding Eastern Europe for beauties, of course. And if he did decide to linger in the wizarding world, odds were he'd be living off his wealth showering Hogwarts students with gold galleons, bribing the Ministry of Magic, rewriting laws, smuggling weapons, and cornering black-market trade routes.
Miss Fleur, you wouldn't want to graduate only to find yourself unemployed, would you?
Miss Tonks, you wouldn't want to miss out on that big promotion, would you?
This kind of storyline was bound to fall on him!
Forget cooperation—Dumbledore might just walk out of Hogwarts one day and publicly declare Ryuji the third Dark Lord.
"So that means… Naruto's world it is. But then again what time period is Tsunade in right now? Last time I tried asking her age, she nearly punched me to death… she can't still be in Konoha, right? If that's the case, the worst possible outcome would be… not being able to pursue Hinata."
Ryuji had to admit he really liked Hinata. Whether it was the shy girl fresh out of the academy, the buxom young woman three years later, or her most radiant self after the Great Ninja War, Hinata had her own charm in every stage.
Of course, married Hinata had her own appeal too.
That said… he couldn't deny it. As much as Sakura's bad personality grated on him and as little as she had to show in the chest department, once she became inexplicably lustful after becoming a wife…
Ryuji's thoughts began to wander.
"Temari was always adorable especially right after the war, stunningly beautiful. Mei Terumī was wasted, though… those legs, those breasts, my god. Kushina never stirred me that way… but Mikoto Uchiha? Now that's a line I probably shouldn't cross. Still… Ino's an absolute gem. Honestly, it always felt like she only married Sai because of Root's influence. What else would qualify him to be the Yamanaka family's son-in-law? And Anko… what a shame. Boruto did her so dirty. Speaking of which, why does it feel like Boruto has no good waifus at all? Besides Sarada, no one stands out."
He realized he'd stumbled upon something.
"Now that I think about it, the only real interest I ever had in Boruto… was in the moms."
Rubbing his chin, Ryuji reflected on what he was thinking when he first watched Boruto.
Every time, his eyes drifted to Hinata, to the grown-up Hanabi, to the thought of mother-daughter dynamics with Sakura and Sarada, or the blonde duo of Ino and Temari. He even wondered if Tenten and Kurotsuchi could be made a little spicier, or if Tsunade's chest had somehow grown again.
He never cared about the new plotlines. Aside from Sarada, none of the next-gen cast had a striking style or the kind of presence that would catch his interest.
And if Sarada didn't carry that "mother-daughter" appeal? He doubted he'd even notice her.
"Damn… am I really this kind of person? Thinking about Hinata and Himawari together, Sakura and Sarada… Kurenai and her daughter, Mirai…"
He paused, suddenly struck by the thought. Poor Kurenai widowed in her prime. She should've just married Kakashi. Sure, his stamina wasn't great, but at least he lived! Unfortunately, Kurenai aged too quickly… otherwise, he might even consider her and Mirai together....
"Wait. Why am I back on mother-daughter fantasies again?!"
Clenching his fists, Ryuji was both horrified and amused at his own tastes. But that didn't stop his imagination from flying straight toward Konoha.
"It's just a shame the Konoha timeline is so long… Tsunade's probably only just left the village, and the Rookie Twelve haven't even been born yet."
As he lay back, an idea suddenly struck him.
"What if… I turned Sasuke into a girl?"
He shot upright, startled by the thought.
There's an old saying: if either Madara Uchiha or Hashirama Senju had been born female, the Warring States and the Ninja War never would have happened. By the same logic, if either Naruto or Sasuke had been born a girl… wouldn't that stop the whole cycle of hatred too?
Not that Ryuji had the slightest interest in a gender-swapped Sasuke. But Naruto?
Would that single-minded idiot even notice the difference?
Or worse after they'd forged their bond, would any other woman even stand a chance at getting between them?
"This… has potential. And honestly, Sakura's married life is a trainwreck anyway."
He remembered Boruto: Sarada doubting her own Uchiha bloodline, never seeing her father for years, and the rare times Sasuke returned home, it was only to whisk away Naruto's son.
Not to mention Sakura only conceived Sarada after clinging to Sasuke through sheer persistence, and Sasuke had never shown genuine concern for his daughter. He had forced Sakura to live like a beard for a closeted man…
Ryuji stroked his chin, his mind racing.
"Maybe Boruto isn't such a bad destination after all… Helping Sasuke's neglected wife and daughter, easing their burdens… that alone is worthwhile. And Naruto? He's hardly a family man. Helping him take care of his sister-in-law and wife that's just what a responsible fan of the series should do."
The mental image made him grin.
But as he chuckled to himself, the scenery around him shifted gone were the mountain forests.
He looked up to find polished stone floors beneath his feet, crowds bustling past.
Wait. An airport?
How had he already arrived?
Panic surged through Ryuji. Something had stolen his time. Or worse had cast a genjutsu on him.
This had to be MiHoYo's doing… no, it had to be that accursed monster born of the distorted world power of this world!
But before his paranoia spiraled, Misato patted his shoulder.
"You've been lost in your weird thoughts again, haven't you? You've been mumbling the whole way here."
Misato gave Ryuji a look of pure exasperation. She had no idea what on earth he was thinking. The ox cart had already brought them all the way to the airport, and he hadn't noticed a thing.
"Is that monster really so troublesome?"
Misato asked, curiosity lacing her tone. She wasn't exactly someone with great combat power, so she couldn't fully grasp Ryuji's concerns or whether he was truly capable of defeating such a creature.
"Yes. It's very troublesome. To kill it, I may have to cross some moral boundaries."
Ryuji answered with a straight face. That was what he had been mulling over just now how to deal with the monster. He'd been so deep in thought that he hadn't even noticed the passing scenery, nor realized they'd already arrived at the airport.
"Darling… you must tell me where in Japan you'll be going!"
Shampoo gazed at him with reluctant eyes. She wanted nothing more than to leave with him or to keep him here. But Ryuji's seriousness told her there was something important he had to do. As his most devoted wife, she could only let him go and support him in doing what must be done.
"No problem."
Ryuji ruffled Shampoo's hair. Only then did he recall Shampoo couldn't just follow him to Japan on a whim. She would need a passport and a string of other documents.
And more importantly, he would be moving around constantly. Taking Misato along was one thing, but bringing Shampoo would be far too inconvenient.
Mostly because Ryuji didn't trust his own self-control.
With a girl as adorable as Shampoo one who practically offered herself without resistance he knew he would easily spend weeks indulging in nothing but "training" her body.
She was simply too comfortable to hold, and he could tell without even trying: making love to her would be even better.
He had no doubt about his willpower.
Because when it came to beauty, he had none.
That was something Ryuji could proudly declare.
A smug expression crept across his face.
"…Why do I feel like you're proud of something weird?"
Misato muttered in exasperation. And Ryuji realized every teammate he had ended up complaining about him.
"Can't be helped. We're not exactly safe ourselves right now."
He scratched his head. He'd already made a huge scene in Hong Kong, and once he went to Putian Shaolin Temple, he'd stir up more chaos before heading back. If Shampoo was with him, it could easily spiral into an international incident.
Ryuji himself wouldn't care but Shampoo still had family. As much as he hated to part with her, he had no intention of bringing her along now. He even resisted making her his woman immediately, fearing she'd taste the forbidden fruit and then lose control.
"…I understand, darling."
Shampoo's eyes shimmered with tears. She desperately wanted to consummate things right now, but Ryuji had been lost in thought the entire journey. She couldn't bring herself to disturb him.
Clasping her hands, tears glimmering in the sunlight, she whispered:
"I'll wait for you like a flower waiting to bloom, no matter how long it takes. I'll always be ready to bear your child, darling!"
Her gaze drifted towards the sky, as though she were already picturing married life with him and choosing names for their children. Rainbows even seemed to shimmer faintly around her. Ryuji couldn't make sense of it, but he was deeply shaken.
Before he could break her fantasy, Shampoo suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.
It was just a simple touch, the soft brush of a girl's lips. Then she pulled away, her cheeks flushed crimson.
"This is the Kiss of death for the heroines. No matter where darling goes, even to the ends of the earth, I'll always be able to find you!"
Covering her burning face, Shampoo shook her head, feeling dizzy, her body yearning desperately for more. She longed for him to tear off her clothes, to split her legs open, to make her a true woman.
But she couldn't.
A wave of grief swept through her heart.
"Ryuji still has important things to do. How could I let my own desires get in the way of that?"
Guilt gnawed at her. If she gave in and made Ryuji lose himself in her charms, reducing him to a man obsessed only with her body and children, unambitious and useless… then she would be committing a terrible sin.
She couldn't bear it.
Covering her face in shame, she burst into tears and fled.
"I—I'm such a sinful woman! Husband, please don't forget me!"
Shampoo ran off sobbing, leaving Ryuji baffled. Why had she bolted all of a sudden? He'd been about to teach her what an "adult kiss" was supposed to be!
Watching his confused expression, Misato who perfectly understood why Shampoo had left gave him a sidelong glance and a dry remark.
"Yeah. You really are a sinful bastard."
"Hey, hey words have consequences. If you slander me again, don't blame me if I rape you."
But Misato only sneered.
"You trying to play the moral man while building a harem? Please. I don't believe you have the guts. Even if I threw myself at you right now, you wouldn't dare touch me."
Convinced she had Ryuji figured out, she fired her jab without hesitation.
But the very next moment, Ryuji was at her side, his hand already working at the buttons of her shirt.
He could endure plenty of insults, but not this kind of provocation. If it was about being with a woman, there was nothing he wouldn't do hell, he'd even tackle math problems if that was the price. But Misato daring him like this? That was the one thing he couldn't let slide.
"When was your last ovulation? Your cycle? What would you name our future kid?"
As he stripped her jacket away, his eyes flicked around, already searching for a nearby hotel. He wanted Misato to understand what it meant to suffer the consequences of her own mouth. Not being able to take Shampoo along for the bigger mission had already left him simmering with frustration. Now Misato was teasing him on top of that? She had no idea how close she was to disaster.
"Wait, wait..... you're serious?!"
Misato's smug grin vanished in an instant as she stared at Ryuji tugging off her coat. The shock hit her, he wasn't bluffing.
"No kidding. You don't have family in this world, right? So even if we played the outlaw couple, it wouldn't affect anyone back home. Why shouldn't I?"
His hand moved naturally to her waistband. But just then, an older woman with a red armband appeared out of nowhere, making Ryuji awkwardly pull his hand back. Misato, blushing furiously, scrambled to fix her clothes.
She swore it wasn't his broad chest or that maddeningly confident attitude that had frozen her into forgetting to resist. Definitely not.
Still, the interruption left the air unbearably awkward. Neither of them said a word, both silently deciding to wait until the plane took off before speaking again.
Meanwhile, Ryuji noticed Shampoo had slipped a scroll into his arms before leaving.
Just as he was about to unroll it, Ranma and his father, Genma, walked up. Both looked tired and resigned, but clearly had no intention of traveling with Ryuji and the others.
"Mr. Ryuji," Ranma sighed in his still-feminine form, pointing toward his panda-shaped father who was performing tricks in the distance. "Since the Spring of Drowned Man is unusable for now and no telling when it'll recover we'll keep training. You've already helped us enough. We can't trouble you further."
For all the strangeness of his cursed body, Ranma still carried himself with righteous pride, a striking contrast to his shameless old man. Selling street performances as a cute girl and a panda at least kept them fed, and he wasn't about to mooch travel money on top of that.
"We'll repay you properly once we've gotten stronger. For now, we part ways."
"It's fine," Ryuji waved him off. Ranma's story was its own comedy, and Ryuji's goals lay elsewhere tracking down Conan, Sailor Moon, and maybe even Cardcaptor Sakura in Japan. Who knew, maybe he'd even bump into a Kamen Rider. Ranma's words, though earnest, barely registered.
"Then we'll be on our way!"
Father and son gave a respectful bow before returning to their act.
Misato glanced at the fading sunlight and shook her head.
"So all that, and we didn't even spend a full day here. What was the point?"
She'd expected at least three or four days in this place, maybe even months. But they'd arrived in the morning, met Shampoo at noon, and by afternoon, Ryuji was already talking about heading for Shaolin Temple.
It was like watching a celebrity rush through a packed schedule. If not for the monster sighting, she'd have thought he was just messing with her.
"No helping it. That kind of monster is a serious problem. And besides, we didn't leave empty-handed."
Ryuji pulled out the scroll Shampoo had given him, and the moment he saw the title, he couldn't help but laugh.
"'Secret Martial Arts of the Heroine Tribe'? That girl's awfully generous."
Misato leaned closer out of curiosity, but Ryuji only chuckled, pointing at a small line of text printed on the scroll.
"Published by the People's Press? Price: 32.5 yuan?"
Misato blinked, stunned, and raised her head to stare at him.
"They… photocopied the martial arts manual?"
Her look of disbelief made Ryuji laugh even harder. He'd already suspected as much. If peaches of immortality could be mass-produced, and even the waters of Jusenkyo could be bottled and sold as commodities, then this civilization capable of achieving controllable nuclear fusion had clearly advanced far beyond his expectations.
And now, it was confirmed.
Glancing down at the techniques written in the scroll, Ryuji couldn't help but grin wider.
• Tianjin Chestnut-Frying Fist: Channel qi to protect the palms, training them to stir scalding-hot sand while roasting chestnuts. Produces delicious chestnuts and enhances reaction speed and striking agility.
• Explosive Acupuncture Point Strike: Specializes in breaking stone and earth, useful for excavation, mining, and treasure-hunting. Utterly ineffective against humans.
• Lion's Roar Blast: Harnesses one's anger to fuel qi, releasing it as a destructive energy shockwave. Power scales with emotion.
• Ascending Dragon Strike: By luring an opponent's fiery battle aura through clever footwork, the user maintains absolute calm, projecting only icy composure until at the center point, unleashing a single fist brimming with fighting spirit. The result: a man-made tornado that devastates the foe.
These were all secret techniques straight from Ranma's story, learned only after brutal training. The scroll even included this world's unique inner cultivation methods for nurturing qi.
But after a skim, Ryuji quickly lost interest.
Compared to the Qi of Dungeon Fighter Online or King of Fighters, this was nothing special. Even at their peak, these techniques only reached the level of a top-class fighter in the KoF world good enough for a tournament, but hardly impressive to him.
They offered him almost no real help. With his current understanding, he could grasp the principles at a glance. While applying them directly in battle would take work, the techniques themselves were more like reference material to him fodder for modification at best.
What he lacked now wasn't more martial moves. It was spiritual advancement.
If he were to take anything from the scroll, maybe the Explosive Acupuncture Point Strike its utility against rock and soil could prove handy.
But for Misato…
Ryuji tossed the scroll into her hands, smirking at her puzzled look.
"This stuff you might actually be able to learn it."
Qi was universal. Even Misato's body contained spirit and life force, and al long as those two exist, qi exists.
She just hadn't trained it before. And besides, in the EVA world, learning qi wouldn't change much anyway.
"I can really learn this?" Misato asked, still doubtful.
"Of course. Anyone with spirit and life force has qi. You're no exception."
Ryuji waved off her doubts, glanced at the plane tickets she'd bought, and pulled her along toward the terminal.
No choice last-minute flights didn't leave much room for destinations.
Once on the plane, Misato looked at the scroll with shining eyes, eagerly absorbing every passage on qi. Meanwhile, Ryuji fiddled with his phone, switching between physics, chemistry, novels, then philosophy and art.
If he was to travel across countless worlds, he couldn't afford to be ignorant or tasteless.
The plane flew fast, but by the time they landed in Guangzhou, it was already past midnight. Misato, who had spent the entire night poring over the martial arts manual, looked exhausted but excited.
She had already felt something stir inside her.
It wasn't exactly the mist-like qi described in the scroll, more like a glimmer of light but it was there. She was on the verge of drawing out her own qi.
And that thrilled her.
To Ryuji, this training style was poorly suited too focused on qi, not enough on physique. But for Misato, it was perfect.
Longevity, refined strength without bulking muscles, power paired with soft, youthful skin if she could really master qi, it was everything she wanted. She had no intention of wasting a single moment.
And since she'd already made some progress, she had no complaints about Ryuji's plan to head for Dongguan in search of the Shaolin Temple. In fact, she was eager. Who knew what secret martial arts might be hidden there?
Money wasn't an issue, and in this trade-savvy city, Ryuji easily hired a driver and car. He also got directions to the Shaolin Temple.
But there was one thing…
The taxi driver was as consistent as ever.
"Let me tell you something last time, that Shaolin abbot was caught hiring a prostitute, and wouldn't even pay her!"
The driver spoke while maneuvering the car toward Shaolin Temple.
"I always thought he looked so dignified, like some kind of great monk from Baidu, or at least a respectable monk. Who would've thought he'd turn out to be the kind of scum who stiffs a working girl?!"
He grew more and more indignant as he spoke.
He slammed the wheel with disgust.
"I used to say I'd go train at his temple, maybe even take him as a master! But when I heard what kind of person he really was, I didn't go!"
Ryuji couldn't help but nod along. Hiring a prostitute was one thing... after all, even the Buddha had children. But skipping out on the bill? That was too much! Sure, both Buddha and Jesus had shown compassion to fallen women, urging them to turn their lives around, but they never actually hired them, let alone refused to pay!
Those were acts of kindness meant to save people not fooling around with them!
And even if you did fool around, at least pay for the service. Think of it as a blessing if nothing else. But to use someone's body for free? That was despicable! at least pay the damn woman. She was working.
Ryuji shared in the driver's righteous anger.
Still, as Shaolin Temple of Dongguan came into view, Ryuji stopped grumbling about the abbot.
Not because he was afraid of him, but because in The God of Cookery movie, real deities had shown up.
Guanyin herself had appeared.
It was real divine intervention!
That was why so many insisted that Stephen Chow was the true God of Cookery. In the end, it wasn't just about skill or tricks he had the Goddess of Mercy herself standing by his side.
That's why they called Stephen Chow the real deal.
Ryuji had come here to find out whether gods really existed in this world, and what kind of world this truly was. If deities did exist, could he rely on their power for help?
And the reason he hadn't sought them out before going to Jusenkyo was simple:
If you don't try your best first, but instead immediately run to others for help, isn't that just laziness and irresponsibility? He needed to exhaust his own efforts before asking for divine aid.
Besides…
Who could say what kind of temperament these so-called gods might have?
After getting out of the car where the man was still railing against the abbot's unpaid fling, Ryuji arrived at the gates of Dongguan Shaolin Temple.
Compared to the real Shaolin Temple, this one was downright shabby. The gates lacked grandeur, the buildings were smaller, and the decorations couldn't compare.
And needless to say, this abbot was no property developer or corporate chairman. He probably wasn't even middle management.
But just as Ryuji and Misato, who was still studying the scroll approached the gate, the massive wooden doors creaked open.
The very abbot who had appeared in The God of Cookery emerged, flanked by monks. He pressed his palms together and bowed deeply to Ryuji.
"Amitabha. To have such an esteemed guest visit our humble temple truly brings us honor."
His words were courteous, but Ryuji tensed.
Because this clearly meant the abbot knew of his arrival beforehand. And he also knew that Ryuji was no ordinary man.
"You flatter me. I am but a mere mortal," Ryuji replied, pressing his palms together respectfully.
After all, this was the abbot's domain. And honestly? Ryuji was a little nervous about gods.
The abbot led Ryuji into the main hall. After burning two sticks of incense, he guided him to a guest room, where they sat face to face.
"Master, I suppose you already know why I've come here?" Ryuji asked, convinced the man's mystic airs meant he was already aware.
But the abbot only looked at him with genuine puzzlement.
"How could you think that? This humble monk cannot read minds. How could I possibly know why you've come?"
He calmly sipped from the teacup before him.
"Besides, even you yourself aren't certain why you're here. If that's the case, how could any supposed mind-reading technique possibly reveal it?"
Ryuji: "…"
So… does that mean you can read minds?
The moment the thought crossed his head, the abbot spoke again.
"No. It's simply that you've never bothered to hide your thoughts."
The abbot glanced at him, seeing clearly that it wasn't that Ryuji couldn't conceal them, it was that he didn't care to.
In his eyes, Ryuji had already reached a certain clarity. He no longer bothered with pretenses or distractions. In terms of cultivation, he was already like an Arhat.[1]
In the old days, such a man might even have been called an enlightened person though what Ryuji practiced body arts, not traditional spell craft.
"Never mind," Ryuji finally said. "Whether you read minds or not, my purpose here is simple."
He placed a heavy case of Hong Kong dollars before the abbot.
"I want to buy some of your culinary manuals for a friend. If possible, I'd also like to study a bit myself. And there's one more thing I'd like to know."
The abbot didn't so much as glance at the money.
As if to say: Are you kidding? I am a high monk. Do you think mere wealth could tempt me?
For Ryuji to try to bribe him with cash was practically an insult.
Did he not understand? For monks, everything was about fate.
Of course, given the sheer amount Ryuji had offered, one could say that fate between him and the Buddha must indeed be profound. But to suggest the abbot was moved by money? Absurd. It was clearly destiny that this layman had such a deep karmic bond with the Buddha.
"Please, speak your mind," the abbot said calmly, sliding the case toward himself. He opened it, took one look, and snapped it shut at once.
Not because of the stacks of bills inside, but because of the heavy aura of worldly karma clinging to them. The weight of mortal attachments was staggering. Only before the Buddha could such tainted wealth be safely purified and put to use.
Yet Ryuji's next words nearly shattered his composure.
"I want to know… does this world truly have gods and immortals?"
The abbot froze, staring at him in disbelief. With Ryuji's overflowing life force practically blazing before his eyes, a single thought flashed through the monk's mind:
The hell? With cultivation like yours, you're asking me if gods exist?
"May I ask, sir… from which sect or school do you come from?"
After a moment's hesitation, he voiced the question.
Ryuji, without the slightest pause, answered plainly:
"I have no sect, no school."
A rogue cultivator, then.
The monk nodded knowingly.
"Of course gods exist. But, honored guest…"
His gaze sharpened as it fell on Ryuji.
"Do you not realize..... you yourself are one?"
Ryuji: "?? "
He blinked, dumbfounded, pointing to himself. "I'm… a god?"
The abbot merely smiled.
"Who else could it be?"
He set down his teacup and continued:
"Your lifespan has already surpassed that of ordinary men. Your strength is such that even modern weaponry could scarcely touch you. If this does not earn the title of 'Earthly Immortal,' then what would? This humble monk cannot divine your origins, only that you carry a mission of great importance. If you are not a god… then who in this world could be?"
The abbot gave a soft laugh.
"So when you ask whether gods exist… in truth, it's a question you need not ask at all."
"It seems our understanding of what it means to be an god might be a little off," Ryuji said with a shake of his head, refusing to press the point any further.
True, with the powers he now possessed, no one in ancient times would have hesitated to call him a god or an immortal. By all accounts, he'd achieved a kind of longevity though, admittedly, in his case it was through sleeping with women.
But the problem was this: compared to the Western paths of cultivation, what he truly longed for was Daoist immortality.
"Tell me," he asked, hope flickering in his eyes, "can I still cultivate the Dao? What I mean is… can I still train in other techniques?"
The monk blinked, looking utterly bewildered by the question. But then he recalled that Ryuji was a rogue cultivator with no sect or master. Understanding dawned, and he replied at once:
"Isn't the honored guest already walking the path of cultivation? A 'technique' is nothing more than a method for guiding energy. And you.... you are already doing this. In fact, you've stepped well beyond the threshold of the ordinary into the realm of the extraordinary."
From his perspective, Ryuji's way of training might not belong to the orthodox Daoist schools, but it was still a proper, legitimate path.
Cultivating qi and blood. Strengthening the body. Refining the spirit until the soul could transcend the flesh.
If that was not true cultivation, then what was?
~~~~~~~~~~
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[1] { (in Buddhism and Jainism) a saint of one of the highest ranks.}