Morning sunlight pierced through the heavy smog of Skyscar City, illuminating dust motes dancing in Jiang Chen's apartment.
Jiang Chen woke up gagging.
A foul, sour stench filled the tiny room. He looked down at his arms; his skin was coated in a layer of gray, oily grime. It was the impurities forced out of his pores—a biological sludge expelled when a cultivator's marrow was cleansed during a major breakthrough.
He rushed to the cramped bathroom, scrubbing his skin raw under the freezing water. As the gray sludge washed away, revealing the pale, healthy skin beneath, Jiang Chen stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror.
The malnourished, hollow-cheeked boy from yesterday was gone. His muscles weren't bulky like a bodybuilder's, but they were compact and defined, woven like steel cables beneath his skin.
"Body Tempering 5th Stage," Jiang Chen whispered, clenching his fist.
The air popped audibly in his palm.
According to the Federation textbooks, the Body Tempering Realm was divided into three phases. Stages 1-3 were Iron Skin. Stages 4-6 were Steel Bone.
Yesterday, Jiang Chen was stuck at the 3rd Stage, struggling to lift 300kg. Today, his bones felt dense, heavy, and unbreakable.
"And this..."
He took a step forward. It wasn't a normal step. His body seemed to glide, his weight shifting with the unpredictable rhythm of a breeze.
[Combat Skill: Flowing Wind Sword Steps]
[Grade: Yellow-Tier (High)]
[Mastery: Small Success]
In the Federation, combat skills were graded Yellow, Black, Earth, and Heaven. A High-Grade Yellow skill was something only wealthy families could afford. For a slum rat like him to have one—and at the Small Success stage of mastery—was unheard of.
"I need food," he muttered as his stomach let out a thunderous growl. The breakthrough had burned all his calorie reserves. He checked his wallet. 50 Credits. Enough for two synthetic nutrient bars.
"To kill stronger ghosts in the Grave, I need energy. To get energy, I need money. And to get money... I need to stay in the Academy."
He grabbed his bag. If he failed the assessment today, he'd be expelled to the labor district. That was a death sentence for his ambitions.
Sky-River Academy, District 9.
The campus was a blend of ancient tradition and brutalist sci-fi architecture. Massive stone statues of Daoist Immortals stood guard next to magnetic-levitation tracks. Students in blue and white tactical uniforms streamed through the gates.
"Did you hear? The pass mark was raised."
"Yeah, Instructor Lei is going crazy. He wants everyone to hit 300kg raw force or get out."
"300kg? That's the absolute limit of the 3rd Stage! I'm dead."
Jiang Chen walked through the crowd, his expression indifferent. He utilized the breathing rhythm of the Flowing Wind Sword Steps as he walked, making his movements silent and fluid.
"Yo, isn't that the trash Jiang Chen?"
A mocking voice cut through the morning air like a serrated knife.
Near the entrance of the training hall, a group of students stood in a circle. At the center was a young man with slicked-back hair, wearing a combat watch worth more than Jiang Chen's kidney.
Wang Teng. The tyrant of Class 3.
Wang Teng smirked, tossing a Spirit Apple—a luxury fruit rich in Qi—hand to hand. "I thought you'd be too scared to show up. Have you prepared your application for the sanitation department? I hear the sewer rats are looking for a king."
His lackeys laughed.
"Boss Wang, be nice. Maybe he broke through to the 4th Stage in his dreams!"
Jiang Chen stopped.
According to his memory, Wang Teng was at the Peak of the 5th Stage. His punching force should be around 600kg.
In the past, Jiang Chen would have trembled. Now, he looked at Wang Teng and didn't see a bully. He saw a sloppy stance. He saw uneven breathing. He saw a health bar waiting to be deleted.
"Are you done barking?" Jiang Chen asked calmly.
The laughter died instantly. The silence was heavy.
Wang Teng's face went red. He hadn't expected the worm to speak. "You courting death—"
"Wang Teng, stand down."
A cold, melodious voice interrupted them.
The crowd parted. A girl walked through, her presence commanding immediate silence. She had jet black hair cascading to her waist and skin as pale as moonlight.
Lin Qingxue. The Class President.
Jiang Chen's eyes narrowed slightly. He could feel the pressure radiating from her. It was heavy and dense.
Body Tempering 7th Stage: The Golden Marrow Phase.
She was a true genius, her punch likely exceeding 1,000kg. A monster in human skin.
She glanced at Wang Teng with eyes cold enough to freeze water, then shifted her gaze to Jiang Chen. She paused.
She sensed... something. Yesterday, Jiang Chen's aura was weak, like a dying candle. Today, his vitality was concealed, but it felt hot. Like a dormant volcano.
"The Instructor is waiting," Lin Qingxue said coolly. "Save your energy for the machine."
Wang Teng grit his teeth. He wouldn't dare offend Lin Qingxue, whose family background was terrifying. He glared at Jiang Chen. "You got lucky. I'll make sure to break your arm during the sparring session later."
He stormed off.
Lin Qingxue lingered for a second. "Jiang Chen."
"Class Monitor?"
"The bottom ten are expelled," she said softly. "The civilian sector is safer than the battlefield. There is no shame in quitting."
"Thanks for the advice," Jiang Chen replied, a faint smile touching his lips. "But I don't plan on quitting."
The Training Hall.
Three hundred students stood in neat rows. The air smelled of sweat, rubber mats, and ozone.
At the front of the room stood Instructor Lei. He was a giant of a man, a veteran of the Border Wars. The pressure he released was suffocating—he was a Qi Gathering Realm cultivator. He could likely dodge bullets and crush steel with his bare hands.
"Standard procedure!" Instructor Lei barked. "Step up. Strike the Spirit Force Tester with full power. No pills. No stimulants. Passing grade is 300kg. Anything less, pack your bags."
300kg. The barrier between a civilian and a cultivator.
"First, Wang Teng!"
Wang Teng stepped up, cracking his neck. He shot a smug look at Jiang Chen. He planted his feet, took a deep breath, and channeled his Qi.
"Hah!"
His fist blurred.
BANG!
The heavy padded machine shuddered violently. The holographic numbers raced up.
[585 kg]
"Whoa!"
"Nearly 600kg! That's the limit of the 5th Stage!"
"He's definitely going to the Elite Class."
Instructor Lei nodded. "Acceptable. Next."
The test continued.
"Zhang Wei, 290kg. Fail."
"Li Hua, 310kg. Pass."
Finally, the list reached the bottom.
"Jiang Chen!"
The room went quiet. Snickers broke out from Wang Teng's circle.
"Here comes the finale," Wang Teng whispered loudly. "Let's see if he can hit 150."
Jiang Chen stepped out of the line. He walked to the machine calmly.
He stood before the heavy pad. He didn't take a wide, aggressive stance like Wang Teng. He stood naturally.
He closed his eyes for a split second, recalling the sensation of the Ancient Sword Disciple in the grave. The sharpness. The momentum.
Body Tempering is about brute force, Jiang Chen thought. But with a Yellow-Tier movement technique, I can add torque.
He snapped his eyes open.
He twisted his waist. His feet moved in a strange, blurry rhythm—the Flowing Wind Sword Steps. Power traveled from his heels, spiraled up his spine, and exploded out of his fist.
It wasn't a heavy smash. It was a piercing strike.
CRACK!
The sound was different. It wasn't the dull thud of Wang Teng's punch. It was a sharp, explosive crack, like a gunshot.
The heavy punching bag was blasted backward so violently it rebounded and hit the ceiling limiters.
The holographic numbers spun wildly, skipping the 300s and 400s entirely.
[X10 kg]
The number hovered in the air, glowing red.
Silence.
Absolute, suffocating silence.
Wang Teng's jaw dropped. The Spirit Apple he was holding fell to the floor with a dull thud.
Lin Qingxue's beautiful eyes widened, her composure cracking for the first time.
Instructor Lei stopped writing on his clipboard, his pen snapping in half in his grip.