Tower Dungeon.

  When an obedient employee demanded her salary so eagerly, how can he, the big boss Dongfang Bubai, not pay up?

  That being so…

  “Last batch. Don’t waste a single drop.”

  A final pump left every last drop of energy down where it belongs…

  Bubai gazed down at the doll’s sun-kissed face showing eagerness more intense than even his waifu upstairs.

  He had to admit.

  This well-oiled machine deserved every drop for the impeccable dedication she showed in her assigned work.

  What work? Adult business of course!

  Ahem. By that, he meant the grunt work of handling all his stuff deposited in the little cave...

  Even while he was out, she never slacked off, and just a few hours gave his storage space a revamp!

  Shelf after shelf was all loaded.

  What once was a labyrinth of item heaps that his doll had to tiptoe through now offered a clean path with nothing littering the ground!

  Bubai didn’t have OCD, but oh Merlin did it feel good to see all the messy stuff deposited where they belonged.

  The neat sight of everything in its place also made it easier for his consciousness to browse through his own inventory.

  Skipping over the set of shelves keeping sundries and items marked to be sold in the trade corner, Bubai’s consciousness immediately arrived at the adjacent two shelves.

  Here were the shelves serving as the medicine cabinet, holding a collection of pills, herbs, and their various containers.

  The vials of poison also found their rightful place here. So did the so-claimed "deadly" concoction of a hundred poisons.

  “A hundred poisons? I should’ve known it was too good to be true! That dead bloke was really just more bark than bite.”

  Bubai recalled the appraisal given by the fairy.

  There were only eleven distinct toxins in this mix! Just mortal poisons to boot!

  That’s hardly lethal to any Foundation Realm cultivator, let alone against his abnormal physique.

  Of course, the name wasn’t purely a bluff.

  The provided formula can indeed mix a hundred poisons together…

  There was a clear-cut manual splitting the blending process into stages.

  Eleven components per stage, nine levels to the top, and once it achieves perfection, it could even poison Nascent Soul monsters!

  According to the fairy, it was feasible, theoretically.

  But the problem wasn’t if the formula was verified or not.

  Bubai simply thought of the obvious: where in Merlin’s name will he find every single one of those poison in the formula?

  "Merlin above, good luck finding each and every one. Especially the rare Qi-parasitic ones needed for the later stages. That alone was a game stopper."

  "And even if I did find them all... refining them all together? Not easy. It’d take someone with way more skill in the art of medicine refinement than I have."

  Verdict? This trump card wasn’t simply handed to him on a silver platter.

  "Sounds useless, but at least the poison samples collected by that poor soul still had some value on their own."

  Bubai inspected the twenty-plus vials sitting like a collection of venomous jewels—each deadly in its own right.

  Quick killers and slow-acting ones. Some would fester, others would corrode.

  Even eating away flesh and bone like acid wasn’t a nightmare.

  A needle is all it takes.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “But it’s best to save these rarities when possible. The more I use, the longer this collection side quest takes.”

  Moving on.

  At the quiet intersection next door was the An Jali’s corner, where the doll’s work desk fit snugly against the pair of shelves.

  One shelf stored all his experimental records and supplies.

  The other was dedicated to his formation supplies, though it stood woefully bare.

  Bubai sighed.

  "Man, a true protagonist in my shoes would have used these past few months to master all sorts of formations."

  "Then, in the tournament, I'd be slapping faces left and right to start my rise as a formation prodigy. Alas…"

  Sure, that valuable formation inheritance that practically fell from the sky into his lap was nice and all.

  Given enough time, Bubai should be able to cobble together a basic first-grade formation.

  "But who am I kidding? You can’t just pick up something as complex as formations from scratch and expect to master it overnight. Especially to the point where it’s useful in combat."

  It’s like mastering a whole new programming language with zero background in computer science. That kinda stuff takes years.

  Sorry, his IQ wasn’t infinite, so making it work in time within days was laughable.

  Let’s say he did. Even then, it wouldn’t do much more than confuse low-level trash fish.

  He might as well smash their faces in with his fists the old-fashioned way, skipping the fancy tricks altogether.

  Verdict? Learning formations really didn’t raise his battle power by much.

  "Still, no regrets, though. Formations have a high ceiling. Once there’s enough time for me to dabble in it, it’ll definitely play a role in the future. As for now…"

  "Well, it’s still a good source for contribution points in the early game. Can’t complain about that."

  Bubai brushed the thought aside, letting his focus finally walk over to the gear section right in between the doll and junk corners.

  While lighter gear like his parachute and outfits chilled on the roof above, all sorts of weapons made their homes in this gear section.

  Among these was the blood drinker – the magic weapon he’d casually named "Flying Thunder God".

  "Too bad, this little beauty won’t be much help in the upcoming tournament."

  Sure, this magic weapon would be an absolutely awesome sneaky bugger to throw a match into disarray.

  With its incredible flight capabilities, lightning speed, and range of mobility, it could easily disrupt the casting of any opponent!

  This will render most techniques of most Qi refiners and possibly even foundation realm cultivators useless.

  But… unless his life was truly on the life, Bubai knew better than to flaunt it.

  Using it would be like waving a giant flag that read: “Hey Elder Mo, your grandson replacement and beloved cat caretaker here just picked up a new title... take-out service for your disciple!”

  At that time, even if he sheds a layer of skin, he won’t be able to deny his crime!

  Even if he weaseled himself out of that confession wrapped in a bow, showing any signs of refining a magic tool will only make him public enemy number one!

  Don’t forget.

  His foundation establishment is still a secret ace up his sleeve, and so was his hidden identity as the evildoer coveted by all those who knew its worth.

  On the surface, he was still just a Qi-refiner. Here’s the thing though: Qi-refiners can’t refine tools!

  Unless he can wipe out all witnesses or get grandfather heavens to be his backer, showing this anomaly was just begging others to dissect him!

  For now, he gotta keep playing his part as a “mortal”, and that’s where mortal tools come in handy.

  Kunai and shurikens were stacked around wooden pole like rings in a children’s stacking toy.

  Iron chains, caltrops, copper wires, and translucent threads coiled like serpents.

  Needles, their tips kissed with poison, jutted out from their canisters.

  Other ranged weapons like the sleeve crossbow and even a slingshot.

  Low-key, under the radar, and still effective. Just the way he needed them to be.

  That wasn’t all though.

  Further down, there were rows of generic melee weapons sponsored by the kind folks in the outer sect.

  Rows upon rows of daggers and knives laid on the shelves.

  Right beside the shelf, a wooden barrel packed all sorts of longer weapons.

  Machetes, swords, sabers, scimitars, you name it.

  "I’m no master of all weapons, but even tossing all these at the opponent can achieve great things!"

  Setting aside his plans for imitating a certain archer class’s Gate of Babylon, Bubai’s focus hopped across to the opposite shelf, where consumables were arranged for easy access.

  Various talismans, common pills for recovery and antidotes, as well as some combat-oriented pellets like smoke bombs.

  Bubai felt giddy just imagining all the combat styles he could pull off on stage with these supplies.

  After sorting through a few final strategies in his mind, Bubai picked out a few more items he planned to bring to battle this round.

  “Let’s move what I need to my new storage pouch.”

  Since he can’t officially refine his storage pouch as a mere “Qi refiner”, it was best to keep most of what he will use in there.

  Just an open conspiracy against all those keen enough to keep an eye on his open treasure bags.

  Both low and high-grade bags were decoys. His real backup and trump cards were naturally awaiting his summons within his storage space.

  Of course, while on stage, it was best to access his storage space as little as possible, lest it catches attention.

  With that in mind, Bubai transferred the selected items to each of his storage pouches.

  After stashing away the smaller low-grade pouch in a less conspicuous spot, Bubai refocused his gaze on the hardworking beauty.

  Bubai reached down and tapped the green gem embedded on her forehead, bestowing a droplet of spiritual dew.

  The ensuing musical harp tickled his primal urges, but Bubai didn’t give in to the seductress’s tricks.

  "You should have enough energy now to last through the rest. After you finish your tasks, try on the new uniform I got for you and we’ll play some more next time."

  “Y-yesh... Jali will o-obey all my king’s wishes.”

  After sending her away, Bubai fished out a bronze mirror.

  His own ugly, dirt-smeared face starred back, but he smirked and ran a hand through his greasy hair.

  "Well, lucky me. The sweaty charging session didn’t mess up my makeup."

  A flick of his wrist sent the mirror back to its rightful place on the doll’s desk.

  “Those waiting should probably be getting impatient by now. Time to set off.”

  After rolling his shoulders, Bubai straightened his coarse, shaggy robe.

  His eyes then fell down to his stinky boots. It was caked in dried mud and sand that barely hid the sharp nail-tipped toes.

  “All those stepping onto the stage should know what’s good for them. Or don’t blame me for being cruel.”