Chapter Forty-Six: Thirty-Six Million

"Sooner or later, I’ll kill you..." Yang Fan cursed through gritted teeth as he practiced his horse stance by the training room in the dormitory. At that moment, his bald head glistened with grief and indignation.

Yesterday, after Zhou Haifeng caught up to him, he dragged Yang Fan into a small grove and shaved his head. Yang Fan had completely broken down—lightning crackled all over his body—but not a single hair on Zhou Haifeng’s head was singed.

The gap in strength was simply too great. Even though Yang Fan’s lightning abilities were now comparable to a third-rank, Zhou Haifeng was an eighth-rank master. The disparity was beyond words.

In the end, Yang Fan had no choice but to run back to the dormitory with his bald head. He planned to leave campus in the next couple of days; if he stayed any longer at the Cultivation Academy of the Magic Capital, he had no idea what else Zhou Haifeng might do. What if he came by one day and decided to shave somewhere else on his body? The thought alone sent chills down Yang Fan’s spine.

Zhou Haifeng was no longer the imposing dean he’d been at the start of the semester. To Yang Fan, Zhou was now just an overbearing old pervert who bullied the weak and took pleasure in it.

After a while, Yang Fan stood up and slowly walked back and forth in the training room, a smile now appearing on his face.

He had reached the Stable Stance Realm.

Yang Fan hadn’t expected that cursing Zhou Haifeng while holding his stance would yield such good results. Of course, that was just a way to comfort himself. During the freshman tournament, he’d already felt on the verge of reaching this realm, and yesterday’s series of battles—though not intense—were numerous.

“Fighting really is the best way to grow stronger.” His face showed shameless satisfaction.

He never questioned whether those battles were real duels, or if he truly broke through under pressure.

After a while, his legs recovered. He put on his coat, pulled on a hat, and headed out. With his current hairstyle, Yang Fan was far from pleased. He’d even bought several hats at the academy’s supermarket yesterday before returning.

Leaving the dormitory, he walked toward the residential district’s main gate, running into Zhang Fengyi on the way.

Zhang Fengyi praised him a few times—nothing more than the usual, “Well done, you took first place among freshmen and bested several other outstanding students.”

Yang Fan exchanged polite words, then took his leave.

...

Cultivation Academy of the Magic Capital

Resource Exchange Building

Fat Ma Hu glared at Yang Fan with an unfriendly expression. This brat had come again.

“Senior brother, I’d like an F-grade alloy saber, same style as before, but increase the weight to nine hundred jin. Also, give me fifteen Grade-Two Bone-Tempering Pills and twenty Grade-Two Vitality Recovery Pills. That’s all for now. Give me the pills first; I’ll come for the weapon later,” Yang Fan said with a broad grin.

Ma Hu was beside himself. This guy wanted a nine-hundred-jin F-grade alloy weapon? Was he crazy?

“Are you still half-asleep? A nine-hundred-jin F-grade alloy weapon—never mind whether you can wield it, do you have any idea how much it’s worth?”

Yang Fan grinned even more. “Of course I know. Three thousand six hundred credits. I did the math...”

Ma Hu retorted, “So you know, huh? And you think you have that many credits?”

Yang Fan replied, “I do. I took first place in the freshman tournament. The prize includes an F-grade alloy weapon, and there’s no weight restriction.”

Ma Hu was left speechless.

This kid had really won first place in the tournament? How had he not heard?

Had he known, he would’ve disappeared for a few days—he didn’t want to see this show-off at all.

In previous tournaments, even when an F-grade alloy weapon was awarded, there were usually weight limits. Even if there weren’t, winners never dared to go overboard; typically, they chose something worth a few hundred credits, rarely exceeding ten million in value.

But this kid showed no restraint—his request was worth over thirty million.

Ma Hu was now conflicted: should he approve it or not? There was no precedent for this.

Yang Fan, standing opposite, began to look annoyed. What was this chubby guy doing, just staring at him like an idiot and saying nothing? Was he getting cocky?

“Wait a moment, I need to make a call,” Ma Hu said abruptly, rising and heading out without another word.

Yang Fan watched Ma Hu’s plump body recede, exasperated. What was his problem? Why not just hand over the goods?

Before long, Ma Hu returned, carrying two bottles. Without a word, he worked at the computer, deducted Yang Fan’s credits, and handed him the bottles.

Having visited several times, Yang Fan knew these contained pills—one bottle of Grade-Two Bone-Tempering Pills, one of Grade-Two Vitality Recovery Pills.

“Take your things and go. Come back for the weapon in three days,” Ma Hu said, refusing to look at Yang Fan again.

But Yang Fan persisted, “Senior brother, don’t rush me off—let’s chat!”

“What’s there to talk about? Get going,” Ma Hu replied impatiently.

“There’s plenty! For instance, I’d also like a standard forged steel saber,” Yang Fan said with a grin.

Ma Hu’s already sour face darkened further. This brat was playing him.

Why hadn’t he said so earlier? If he wanted a standard saber, he could have just asked; Ma Hu would have fetched it right away.

And recalling how he’d just called the Resource Exchange director, who had approved the nine-hundred-jin F-grade alloy weapon for Yang Fan without hesitation, made Ma Hu feel a mix of disbelief and jealousy.

Now this brat was still toying with him.

He was a senior, after all, about to graduate, and hadn’t seen four thousand credits in all his years at the academy. How long had Yang Fan been here? A little over a month—and he’d already spent more than four thousand credits. That was forty million in cash!

The more Ma Hu thought about it, the more upset he became. When did credits become so easy to earn? As a fourth-year with few classes left, he’d avoided fieldwork, hiding out in the Resource Exchange for a modest wage, and now he had to endure this torment. It was just too much.

He felt tears welling up as he stood, turning his back on Yang Fan. He couldn’t take it anymore; if he cried in front of this guy, he’d never live it down. He had to get out fast.

Yang Fan watched Ma Hu walk away, noticing the glistening eyes. Was he being too harsh? But he hadn’t done anything wrong—just made the guy take an extra trip or two. Was his heart really that fragile?

Besides, he hadn’t meant it; he hadn’t thought of the standard saber at first. But with the F-grade alloy weapon taking three days, he needed a weapon to practice with in the meantime.

Soon, Ma Hu returned and tossed the saber to Yang Fan, waving him off.

He didn’t want to see Yang Fan for another second—he now found all of his mannerisms irritating.

Remembering the sight of Ma Hu’s slumped shoulders as he walked away, Yang Fan thought perhaps he shouldn’t push him further, though he couldn’t see what he’d done wrong.

Taking his things, Yang Fan left. He still wanted to check out the task board.

He wasn’t eager to linger at the academy. He’d just won first place, only to be shaved bald—he truly didn’t want anyone to see him.

...

Mission Building

Yang Fan stared at the scrolling tasks on the LED screen, searching for something suitable.

He was looking to take on some Grade-Two missions, of which there were quite a few. Most required a Grade-Two martial artist, but he was reluctant to accept the ones targeting armed criminals—the kind wielding guns.

Those were the last missions he wanted. Grade-Two fighters couldn’t yet ignore firearms, not even ordinary handguns, making such missions risky and unrewarding.

No matter how skilled you were, a kitchen knife could still be deadly; that saying wasn’t for nothing. It wasn’t unheard of for martial artists to be gunned down by ordinary people.

Ideally, Yang Fan wanted a mission involving combat with other cultivators. But such assignments were exceedingly rare.

There simply weren’t many rogue cultivators in society, and with the Sky Net system monitoring everything, few dared to cause trouble. Each region had a Cultivator Management Bureau—uneven in strength, perhaps, but still a deterrent, especially since they were armed.

Yang Fan kept browsing but found nothing appealing.

He glanced at the stairs leading to the second floor. The first floor was for Grade-One and Grade-Two martial artists; the second floor was for Grades Three and Four, and the third for Grade Five. Above Grade Six, there were no missions available.

He hesitated, then thought, Why not take a look upstairs? Even if I don’t take a mission, I’ll at least learn what’s ahead.

With that, he headed up the folded staircase, reaching a large door at the top.

Someone was sitting outside—a boy about Yang Fan’s age, playing with his phone. Seeing Yang Fan approach, he looked puzzled.

“Hey, what are you doing up here? Only Grade Three and above are allowed on this floor.”

Yang Fan was surprised; he hadn’t expected someone guarding the entrance. He’d thought it was open access—after all, what secrets could there possibly be?

He replied, “Senior brother, I just wanted to take a look at the missions.”

Yang Fan assumed the boy, like Ma Hu, was employed by the academy, so calling him “senior brother” seemed appropriate.

The boy responded, “If you’re not at least Grade Three, you can’t go up. Academy rules. Sorry, but you can’t enter.”

Yang Fan was taken aback by this regulation. Did the second floor really hold secrets that lower ranks couldn’t know?

The more he thought about it, the more curious he became.

“Senior brother, I’ve awakened. My teacher said my abilities are on par with a Grade-Three cultivator, so I think I should be allowed in.”

The boy was surprised. An Awakened? In the Cultivation Academy? And Yang Fan didn’t hesitate to reveal his status, so it must already be widely known.

Awakened individuals generally had abilities comparable to Grade-Three martial artists who had opened their qi sea and gathered energy.

After a moment’s thought, the boy stepped aside and gestured for Yang Fan to enter.