"Ora ora ora!"
Just how brutal can the 0791 General Manager be when every punch is a Mach 5 supersonic True Dragon Break Superman Fist?!
The taste of those heavy blows can only be known by the apostles blasted to pulp… and by Li Pan himself, right now.
Crisis mode for Li Pan!
One punch and half his body was reduced to dust. Flesh torn apart by the tyrannical fist force empowered by the Nine Shadows, ground into powder, smashed into fragments! The explosive shockwave carried streaks of blood outward, spraying in a fan across dozens of meters of the white plaza.
They say the greatest enemy is yourself.
No—because qi can run dry, power-ups expire.
Not even Li Pan himself could string together that many True Dragon Breaks.
This replica wasn't just "him"—it was an amped-up peak version of him.
Ultra-Super-Turbo Copy Li Pan.
He named it: Ora-Li Pan!
"Ora ora ora!"
Already behind after that ambush punch, Li Pan was forced into a mess—dodging left and right, gathering and dispersing—barely keeping ahead of the Ora's relentless blows.
Damn it… it doesn't even have a face. Where the hell is that "ora ora" noise coming from?!
"Ora ora ora!"
"Shut up already! Ugh—!"
Another slip. Another punch. One leads to the next, and the next… This time, his head was knocked clean off, sent flying like a shot put.
Ora-Li Pan capitalized instantly—raining down fists until Li Pan's body was mush.
"Die!!"
But the batted-away head managed to use the respite to rebuild again.
Ora pounced the moment his torso reformed—another True Dragon Break! And Li Pan was paste once more.
Even Li Pan was awed by the overwhelming pressure of this "Ora" version of himself.
So strong. Really strong. Damn, I'm amazing… actually touched by it.
Ahem. Not that he enjoyed being punched by himself. It was just that he honestly couldn't dodge.
He'd only just mastered the new technique; still clumsy with it.
That first sneak punch left him trailing. Even with desperate dodging, the Mach 5 chain was too much, shattering him again and again. Respawn camping at its finest. Best option: play dead and wait for an opening.
No worry—Ora-Li Pan can't go infinite. An opportunity will come.
Meanwhile, Li Pan wondered:
Why can I still think while in pieces?
Even decapitated—still alive? Is the Blood Sect this broken?
What is this state—soul? Spirit? Will? Signal?
Why can the blood avatar respawn over and over?
Well, vampires are like that too—unless you pierce the heart, they revive.
Weird principle… Wait—opportunity!
Ora paused to wipe off the gore; too much blood splattered his suit.
Li Pan's thought stirred—his scattered blood surged into a blood hand, which clawed at the replica's abdomen, ripping the suit open with three red gashes.
He'd aimed for the dantian, but apparently the suit worked as defense too!
Ora reacted calmly, booting the hand away.
But from the puddle sprouted seventeen, eighteen more—grabbing waist, legs, arms—dragging him down.
Ground game time!
The blood hands quivered like a thrilled octopus, tearing chunk after chunk, ripping the skin off in slabs. Ora struggled, breaking hundreds of arms, but wounds wouldn't heal, while the blood-body never stopped surging. Finally, a tidal sheet of blood wrapped him into a cocoon, suspending him, strength sealed, while countless claws ripped and devoured.
They skinned him, pulled his tendons, gutted him, ripped him apart.
The blood boiled, churned, fused—out of the pool Li Pan stood again, wiping his face.
Close call. Ugly fight, but Ora-Li Pan got eaten alive.
And his blood qi refined upward, his gauge ticking higher…
But where did that replica come from? Why could it use not only Mach 5 fists but even his hidden ace, True Dragon Break?
Li Pan picked up the diadem, had a suspicion, let go, and glanced back.
Ora-Li Pan #2! Fist raised!
"But it's useless!"
He slapped Ora #2 sky-high.
Sealed a mudra—fwoosh—the whole blood pool rose like a giant bat, forming a massive Blood Hand that swatted Ora #2 into the stars.
Not the "belly hand" helping—his own technique.
Had to admit: Ora-Li Pan was terrifying up close. If he tagged you, you were done. Pure melee dominance.
But the blood-body wasn't tanky—couldn't withstand repeated heavy blows. Solution: range.
So he just cast blood palms like swatting flies, batting every Mach 5 charge back down.
After a few exchanges, he had the rhythm.
And truthfully, his cultivation had already broken into the threshold of Refining Qi into Spirit.
He'd only just opened the first page of the Blood Register Heavenly Tome, unlocking blood refinement and shadow movement—nothing else. No full flight technique, suppressed by the domain. Like a newbie with only "left-click attack" and "WASD" unlocked.
That's why the first fight looked so ugly. Any stun from Ora meant death.
But Li Pan wasn't a clueless rookie.
Training daily at the Supreme View, manifesting forms, stirring seas, calling storms, riding the wind—qi control was his bread and butter.
Control qi, manifestation—whether you call it channeling or "law of heaven and earth"—was just shaping qi into forms: demons, beasts, weapons, extending reach and power.
His best was the Candle Dragon form, but in a company vault robbery? Show that and he's exposed.
Still, he'd seen the might of the belly blood hand—crushing brides, slapping brothers—yeah, that one works.
So: big slap it is!
Ora threw his all in—Mach 5, True Dragon Break—shattering the blood-body again.
But pointless. Swatted away regardless.
Now the pattern was clear: his "greatest enemy," himself, was actually beatable.
Like Master Xian said, the Blood Sect path is crooked—before "Refining Spirit into Void," it's vulnerable. Not a total mismatch, but close.
Every ora punch looked apocalyptic, shattering mountains, sundering steel.
And yes, his body splattered dramatically.
But the real damage was nothing.
Because when he mastered Refining Essence into Qi, his flesh became semi-immaterial Blood Qi.
With Shadow Blood Step, his entire being was blood qi. Destroy the form and it simply reconstitutes—so long as qi remains.
Game terms: HP stacked with MP, immune to physical damage. Immortal.
As long as the blood qi isn't depleted, he can respawn infinitely. Physical damage breaks shape but doesn't drain qi.
Meanwhile, his blood qi pierces Nine Shadows' defenses and refines them into fuel.
So after all this, he'd burned less qi than when the white flame burned him opening the door.
So he laid flat like a puddle, just swatting with blood hands. If he grabbed—
"You're dead!"
Crack! Ora #2 crushed, bones snapped. Blood claws burst from his palm, ripping, shredding suit defenses. In moments—torn to ribbons, minced, devoured.
Yes: one grab kill. Not because Ora was weaker, but because Li Pan was stronger.
Every kill—blood qi and flesh absorbed, cultivation surging higher. Especially effective against cultivator bodies.
Grinding levels, plain and simple.
"Then let's grind! Ora #3!"
"Come out, Ora #4!"
"You're next, Ora #5!"
…
Pure stomp.
Never thought "himself" was such a pushover.
Mach 5 boost aside, they weren't true apostles—just copies.
And their base body was like his original: Nine Shadows three turns. Versatile, but only mid-tier. Against a stronger cultivator, qi broken, body like paper.
One blood hand grab—splat. Lobster, not dragon.
But since each spawn was exactly "Li Pan at Nine Shadows three-turn," every absorption was perfect nutrition.
Faster than dual cultivation, faster than pills. Levels flying up.
Conclusion: fastest way to grow is fighting yourself!
Soon his avatar was so strong he stopped holding back: blood palm waves, seas of crimson sweeping the hall. Ora-N after Ora-N, shattered in one slap, minced, refined.
Now he could one-shot himself.
After seven, eight rounds, he knew he'd broken realms. He was now at least equal to Li Qingyun at Refining Qi into Spirit (early stage).
Absurd. All in one day. Keep grinding and he'd be flying on his own qi, lightning strike inevitable.
Tinkered with the diadem again. Waited…
Nothing spawned.
Tried again, even smashed it.
Still nothing.
Out of spawns. Only ten Oras max?
What the hell—others hit billions of power. What balance are we protecting here? Clearly targeting me!
Unfair, but he couldn't force it. Dungeon must reset after cooldown.
So he reformed, gathered blood claws, and picked up the diadem.
The flames from it couldn't pierce his defenses anymore.
Even Shadow Blood Step was partly restored: couldn't earth-burrow, but short-range teleports worked.
Fine. Good enough. After grinding through a horde of Oras, this avatar had climbed to Refining Qi into Spirit. Without even a silver key, he could fight knight-class apostles like the Handkerchief Knight or the Great Tengu.
Ha. Strength really does crush a thousand arts.
Monsters are bullies. Look at "Bedsheet"—once terrifying, then beaten down by Master Xian, now a meek little "Handkerchief."
Monsters are pathetic!
He flashed forward—blood palm smashed open the gray door.
Why pick? Take it all!
A green gem blazed on the stone; green flames rose.
But his blood hand snuffed them with ease—barely scratched his guard.
Stronger now, or maybe just weaker fire, but it felt far less threatening than the earlier white blaze.
Beyond the door: gray stone hall. The "monster" was a wheel hub, emeralds in its spokes.
Same method: blood hand grab, spin, toss.
Out popped a mannequin in suit, badge 0791002.
Ah, a copy of A-Qi? Interesting…
Li Pan already had a theory. Tested with one palm at range.
0791002 exploded instantly.
…
…Huh?
Tossed the wheel again. No respawn.
Pattern clearer.
Like the white hall, the gray one had three sealed doors: gold inlaid with gold, black with pearls—identical to those in the white hall, probably leading to the same places—and one blue with sapphire, leading elsewhere.
He chose the black door. Inside, the "monster" was a faucet.
Yes, a bathroom faucet.
That's monsters for you.
He activated it—out came 0791003. This time he just stood watching.
The replica charged, threw some long-fist strikes, hit his chest…
And that was it.
Li Pan flicked his pinky—shattering 003 to blood mist.
Okay. Understood.
The guardians here spawn by employee ID number: 001 onward. The number of lives depends on how many times that employee used the archive reset.
Each replica's strength is exactly that last saved state.
Li Pan explored further. Thought he'd fight Kotaro or Shiranui—but no, numbers went 04, 05, 06… In other branches, those IDs would be managers. Here? Temps, janitors, plumbers.
Explains why corporate rank matters so much.
But something bugged him:
Wasn't the order backwards? Shouldn't the strongest be at the end?
Usually dungeons save the boss for last.
Not bragging, but in Monster Company, the 01 GM is supposed to be strongest. Normally: temps as fodder, then employees, then managers, finally GM.
Here, though, he'd been clearing 01-02-03 down…
Whatever. Too much loot to worry.
He circled the whole place, smashing every sealed hall.
Not that many—just ten halls, ten items:
01 "Diadem" — 02 "Wheel" — 03 "Faucet" — 04 "Stool" — 05 "Torch" — 06 "Flowerpot" — 07 "Banner" — 08 "Sword" — 09 "Bow and Arrows" — 10 "Colored Pebbles."
Li Pan swept them all up.
.
.
.
⚠️ 30 CHAPTERS AHEAD — I'm Not a Cyberpsycho ⚠️
The system says: Kill.Mercs obey. Corporates obey. Monsters obey.One man didn't.
🧠💀 "I'm not a cyberpsycho. I just think... differently."
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