Under the personal direction of Zhou Zhengyong, Old Bai swiftly drafted a new agreement.
Wei Wen skimmed through it. The terms were clear, without any of the legalese that usually turns your brain into mush.
Everything looked good—so he signed without hesitation.
Here's the thing: in the martial world, contracts don't have much bite. The old saying "martial artists defy rules with strength" exists for a reason. So even a global powerhouse like the Dojo of Limits tends to keep its terms generous—especially when dealing with gifted individuals.
They're not being kind. They're competing. Every major force wants to scoop up rare talent before the others can.
But Wei Wen isn't just talented—he's a transmigrator. And that gives him a very clear sense of strategy. Early on, when his power level is still low, the Dojo of Limits is his best bet. No debate.
So with that signature, Wei Wen formally joined the Dojo of Limits.
Because of his unique status, the Dojo would skip the usual formalities. He didn't need to participate in the August 1st combat trial like most aspiring warriors. His registration as a certified warrior would be processed in advance.
According to Zhou Zhengyong, if all goes smoothly, he should receive his assignment for the Dojo's training camp in about two months.
Why the delay?
Three reasons:
Wei Wen had only just broken through. He hadn't started cultivating Force exertion techniques yet.
Training camp slots for the year were full. Adding him would require internal approvals.
August is the life-and-death trial period—a brutal gauntlet for both the Basic Training Camp and Elite Training Camp. Not exactly ideal for someone who only just became a warrior.
If all goes as expected, Wei Wen will head to the Dojo of Limits Global Headquarters by late August or early September. Whether he's placed into the Basic or Elite camp will depend on higher-level deliberations—and how much he grows in the next two months.
"This is already the best-case scenario," Wei Wen thought. "Even Luo Feng, in the original timeline, wouldn't get into the Elite Camp until next year."
Wei Wen had achieved two critical goals:
He caught the eye of the Dojo and secured early entry.
He landed a spot in the training camp pipeline.
In Swallowed Star fanfics, the Elite Training Camp is practically a rite of passage for every self-insert protagonist. It's where the best resources, mentors, and opportunities are found.
Wei Wen knew his raw talent wasn't great. But his growth wasn't necessarily tied to that. He had Luo Feng.
And as long as Luo Feng rises, so does he.
The Dragon Blood Serum, the Black God Battle Armor—these were no joke. The former boosts physical strength dramatically. The latter is a Planetary-tier battle suit. Both would compensate for Wei Wen's weak baseline.
But there was a catch: his "lay-flat system" (i.e. relying passively on Luo Feng's progression) was too erratic. He couldn't control it. He couldn't make informed decisions. It was like investing blindfolded.
So his plan was simple: support Luo Feng's growth. Helping Luo Feng grow stronger was the most effective way to help himself.
Let's be honest—Wei Wen wasn't driven like Luo Feng. If not for his obsession with not being weak—bordering on trauma—he wouldn't have pushed so hard. If anything, once he realized how limited his talent was, his instinct had been to lay low and hitch a ride on Luo Feng's success.
But that wasn't enough anymore.
He wanted just enough power to survive. To be able to stand his ground in the coming storm—whether it was the Golden-Horned Beast Crisis, or the Nuolan Shan Family's future invasion. He wanted to change Earth's fate, at least a little.
And once he made it through those critical events, he could explore the universe. Maybe even join the Virtual Universe Corporation. As long as he stayed close to Luo Feng, the long-term win was guaranteed.
He just had to hold on—and hold out.
"Oh right, Wei Wen."
Jiang Nian, the regional Dojo director, walked with him. He clapped him on the shoulder, clearly in a good mood.
"Your warrior credentials should be processed in two days. You'll get an email."
"Use the info to log in to the Dojo of Limits portal—your official account will be ready."
"You've got a 1-billion limit to use for manuals, and another 1 billion in starter funds. Use it wisely. It'll shape your path."
"Oh, and your villa in the Mingyue Sector is ready. You can move in whenever."
"Got it." Wei Wen nodded.
If he remembered correctly, Luo Feng had taken the pre-warrior assessment on July 1st. That was the day he had the run-in with the gang, was detained, and awakened his Mental Force for the first time.
If the timeline held, Luo Feng would be awakening tonight. Tomorrow, he'd visit the dojo—where Wei Wen could just "happen" to run into him.
That would be the moment.
Wei Wen started planning. He needed to guide Luo Feng's growth—covertly, indirectly. Push him to level up faster.
First stop? Micro-Level Footwork Technique.
Luo Feng didn't need much time to reach that stage once he had Mental Force. In the original storyline, he pulled it off easily.
With Wei Wen's subtle nudges? He might reach it even sooner.
And once Luo Feng mastered Micro-Level movement… could Perfect-Level be far behind?
Earth-based rankings divided footwork mastery into four tiers:
Basic
Micro-Level
Perfect-Level
Artistic Realm
But in the wider universe, all these were just categorized as "Basic Movement Techniques."
Micro and Perfect tiers were more about training time and battle experience than talent.
Luo Feng had reached Perfect-Level movement in just a few months.
But Artistic Realm? That was something else. Deep, abstract, rarely achieved on Earth.
Still, with Luo Feng's talent—and Wei Wen's insight—maybe they could push the limits. Maybe they could breach the Artistic Realm even while still on Earth.
Whoosh!
Late at night, in a silent room, Luo Feng stirred. His will shifted—
—and the chair floated.
His gaze snapped to the bed. It rose too.
Then the desk. Then the lamp. Then everything in the room, hovering like there was no gravity.
"What... What the hell?"
Luo Feng's eyes widened. His breath caught.
He realized, with both awe and dread—he could move objects with his mind.
This—was this the legendary Mental Force? The defining trait of a Spiritual Combatant?
He didn't know much. But he knew the basics:
Spiritual Combatants were warriors who not only cultivated Genetic Energy, but also wielded Mental Force—a separate and often more devastating form of energy.
And this Mental Force he just awakened?
It felt even stronger than his raw punching strength.
He wasn't sure if this was really Mental Force. He'd have to confirm later. But the feeling was unmistakable.
Throughout his life, he'd maybe seen one or two suspected Spiritual Combatants.
One of them was that mysterious silver-haired man in a black robe—the one Dojo Master Wu Tong had called "Captain."
The other was Wei Wen. The same man that silver-haired figure had marked as a Spiritual Combatant too.
Luo Feng couldn't sleep after that.
So he did what a warrior does—he cultivated.
Sitting cross-legged on the bed, hands and feet aligned in the five-heart-facing-heaven pose, he drew in the surrounding Genetic Force.
He'd already gone through this once before, so it came quickly.
This time, however, something new stirred inside him.
A wave of cosmic energy rushed toward his brain, stimulating it. His sea of consciousness surged—
—and out poured a mist of power.
This was it.
Mental Force.
He recognized it immediately. This fog-like energy was the same force that had lifted everything earlier.
It poured out, refining his mind—and altering his body too.
And at that moment, a quiet notification echoed in Wei Wen's mind.
Your bonded companion Luo Feng has awakened Mental Force. You have undergone a second awakening.