"Look at this idiot! He resists every time and gets beaten every time—what a loser!"

  "Who knew picking trash could earn so much? This world’s gone mad!"

  "The more his grandfather picks up, the more money we grab! Ha!

  Three teenagers jeered, clinking stolen silver coins in their palms.

  Their leader, Xue Hao, spat on the ground.

  "This fool’s getting expelled from the academy today. No more easy money for us."

  Not far from them lay a boy of fifteen or sixteen.

  His clothes were tattered and dust-covered, but his features were refined, with an air of quiet dignity.

  The boy’s previously vacant eyes sharpened, now clear and alert.

  He gazed at the vast sky and endless horizon, his mind roiling like stormy seas.

  Where am I? Why does my soul feel so... harmonized with this body?

  Amaze surged within him. His eyes betrayed a maturity and weariness far beyond his years.

  This boy was Xiao Chen—originally from Earth.

  After vanishing from the ancient bronze array, his consciousness, or soul, had merged with this body.

  It felt like a wanderer returning home, a bird finding its nest.

  If Xiao Chen’s Earthly self was the dominant soul, the original inhabitant of this body had been but a fragment.

  Now, the two souls fused into one, achieving perfection.

  Fragmented memories flooded Xiao Chen’s mind, piecing together a hazy understanding of himself and this world:

  He was a student of Tiancong Academy. His grandfather, Xiao Ping, worked as a janitor there to fund his studies. Today was the academy’s annual assessment. On his way back, Xue Hao and his gang had ambushed him, stealing his living expenses.

  "Idiot! I’m in a bad mood today. Bark like a dog to entertain us, and maybe we’ll let you pass."

  "Hah! This moron’s half-witted anyway—perfect for playing a mutt!"

  As Xiao Chen sorted through his thoughts, their taunts pierced his ears, venomous and cruel.

  "Hey! We’re talking to you! Quit lying there like a corpse!"

  Xue Hao aimed a vicious kick at Xiao Chen’s head. But Xiao Chen abruptly sat up, narrowly dodging the blow.

  Xue Hao blinked, dismissed it as luck, and snarled, "You dare dodge me?"

  He lashed out again.

  Xiao Chen twisted aside, his gaze icy.

  "***?"

  Xue Hao froze, unnerved by the boy’s glare.

  "What... what does that mean?"

  "It means—Are you fucking looking for death?!"

  Xiao Chen’s expression darkened. With a flick of his fingers, a swirling energy coalesced in his palm.

  A casual gesture, yet it was the Formless Calamity Finger—a lethal martial technique.

  With his souls united, power surged through him, inexhaustible.

  Form dissolved into formlessness，emptiness solidified into substance. His attack pierced Xue Hao's calf like a stabbing tofu, leaving a large hole.

  "AAAGH—!" Xue Hao’s scream scattered birds and shook leaves.

  Blood gushed from the fist-sized wound, pooling crimson on the ground.

  Xue Hao stared, pale and disbelieving.

  Zhou Cang and Hu Ding, Xue Hao’s lackeys, snapped out of their daze.

  "You lunatic! What have you done?!"

  One lunged with a palm strike, the other with a finger thrust.

  Xiao Chen sidestepped effortlessly, his mind drifting to memories of the past...

  This world obeys one law:

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  the strong rule, the weak suffer. Like ants, like meat on a chopping block.

  "You’re a descendant of the Xiao Clan. Even if it costs me everything, I’ll make you a true martial artist!"

  grandfather 's eyes had brimmed with hope, yet hidden beneath was a sorrow Xiao Chen, as a child, couldn’t fathom.

  He’d seen the gray streaks in his grandfather’s hair, the hunched back against cold winds, a silhouette heavy as mountains. That image haunted him, driving him forward.

  Back then, he didn’t grasp the world’s cruelty. He never sought glory.

  Only a stubborn resolve: No matter the hardship, mockery, or despair—never give up!

  Fifteen years of scorching summers, bitter winters, seasons cycling endlessly.

  "Because I have a dream!"

  "I will become a true martial artist!"

  That buried seed of ambition, now awakened by his returned soul, began to sprout...

  Returning to the present, Xiao Chen closed his eyes. When his eyes reopened, a glint of light and a razor-sharp killing intent flashed within them.

  He brushed dust from his white robe, which billowed as if caressed by an unseen breeze.

  Zhou Cang and Hu Ding tensed, dread rising. They charged, amplifying their strikes.

  "You dare fight back?!"

  "Time to settle debts."Xiao Chen’s face hardened.

  He easily turned around and dodged, and kicked Xue Hao's groin.

  A sickening crunch echoed as Xue Hao flew backward, face purpling in agony.

  Zhou Cang and Hu Ding roared, "You’re dead, freak!"

  They angrily attacked Xiao Chen again.

  Xiao Chen smirked, his hands weaving circles in the air. Wind howled as a vortex of energy expanded before him.

  "Regret of the Soaring Dragon!"

  Leaves swirled like a coiling dragon. Amid the floral storm, Xiao Chen stood serene,like a celestial warrior descended.

  He’d practiced this palm technique for over a decade. Eighteen surges of energy fused seamlessly. His meridians roared like raging rivers, power limitless.

  Even Earth’s steel-armored super-soldiers would crumble beneath this strike.

  Perfect unity of soul and flesh unleashed the technique’s full might.

  Crack after crackle echoed incessantly from Xiao Chen's body as all meridian blockages were instantly cleared.

  His vitality surged upward like bamboo shoots breaking through soil after spring rain, ascending with unstoppable momentum.

  Xiao Chen felt an indescribable exhilaration. With a surge of vigor, he threw his head back and roared—a sound like thunderclaps shaking the heavens.

  While he reveled in his triumph, Hu Ding and Zhou Cang fared far worse. Under the onslaught of his martial techniques, their faces turned ashen.

  The duo barely blocked the first seven waves of energy before the eighth shattered their defenses, hurling them backward.

  Boom!

  A dragon-like howl tore through the air, trembling the earth. The two flew like broken kites, trails of blood arcing behind them. Whether by chance or precision, they crashed beside Xue Hao, coughing up crimson.

  "The idiot... When did he become so strong?!"

  "Spare us! Please!"

  "We... we were wrong!"

  The trio scrambled backward, minds blank with terror. The timid Xiao Chen they’d bullied was gone, replaced by this fearsome force .

  Xiao Chen, reborn and radiating power, closed in. Each step amplified the crushing aura around him.

  These three are just ordinary students at Tiancong Academy, yet they withstood my techniques for so long.

  This world... is far more dangerous than Earth.

  While on Earth, he’d hit a ceiling—a suffocating pressure barring further growth.

  Here...

  He glanced skyward, exhilarated.No limits. None at all.

  His energy surged like dragons and elephants—the hallmark of Qi Martial Tenth Layer, Great Perfection.

  On Earth, my peak was merely this world’s “Great Perfection.” Yet here, even the Tenth Layer isn’t considered a true beginning.

  Memories clarified: Qi Martial was merely the novice stage. True warriors ascended through three realms—Spirit Martial, True Martial, and Primordial Martial—each divided into four tiers: Initial, Middle, Advanced, and Great Perfection.

  Only after mastering Qi Martial could one refine energy into seals, awaken a Martial Soul, and step into Spirit Martial—becoming a true warrior.

  Heh. What an intriguing world.

  Grandfather... I won’t just become an ordinary warrior. I’ll stand atop this martial world!

  Suppressing his excitement, Xiao Chen strode toward the trio. "Well, gentlemen... Enjoying yourselves?"

  His gaze, colder than ancient ice, froze them mid-breath.

  "Over three years, you’ve ‘borrowed’ 1,080 silver coins from me. With monthly compound interest at 10%, the total now stands at 9,871 coins. Time to repay."

  "Nine... nine thousand?!" Zhou Cang gaped. "It was only a thousand!"

  A shadow flickered. Slap! Zhou Cang’s teeth flew out with a spray of blood.

  Then a boot slammed his face into the dirt.

  Thud! Thud! Thud!

  Xiao Chen ground Zhou Cang’s skull deeper.

  "Compound interest. Can’t calculate? Too busy extorting classmates?"

  These thugs—heartless enough to steal from the weak—deserved no mercy.

  The Bodhisattva shows compassion, but the Vajra wields wrath to crush evil.

  "Are... are you killing him?!" Xue Hao and Hu Ding trembled.

  "Kill? Don’t be absurd." Xiao Chen smirked. "Why would I let you die when you owe me so much?"

  He stomped the ground, launching Zhou Cang meters away.

  The boy’s swollen head resembled a melon—unrecognizable even to his mother.

  Xue Hao and Hu Ding stood paralyzed.

  "Can you two do math?" Xiao Chen’s voice cut like steel.

  "Y-yes!"

  "Then how much do you owe?"

  "9,871 silver coins!" Xue Hao blurted, adamant.

  Xiao Chen feigned surprise. "That’s a lot. Are you sure?"

  "No mistake! Compound interest... it’s accurate!"

  Satisfied, Xiao Chen ripped off Xue Hao’s shirt.

  Xue Hao paled. "Y-you’re going to rape me?!"

  Snap!

  Xiao Chen’s fist shattered his nose. "Disgusting fool!" He tore a cloth strip, dipped it in Xue Hao’s blood, and scribbled a promissory note.

  "Sign."

  The trio pressed trembling fingerprints without reading.

  Xiao Chen pocketed the note. "Study hard. No more bullying. Got it?"

  "Y-yes!"

  "Love thy classmates. Embrace virtue. Serve the nation. Understood?"

  "Understood! We’ll be model citizens!"

  Their swollen heads bobbed like grotesque puppets.

  "Good. Society’s improvement starts with you." Xiao Chen turned. "Now, if you’ll excuse me—I’ve an academy exam to catch."

  In a flash, he vanished, leaving the trio to nurse their wounds—and their newfound fear.