Chapter 11

  Tests & Trials (III)

  Should I do it?

  Should I actually do it?

  No, no, no... this is clearly a test! After all, the boy isn't actually a boy. He's an old, scheming monster who's probably lived for countless years. And he already seems to be thinking there's something amiss with me, and if I do actually produce the art...

  No, to begin with, I can't produce it just yet. I don't know how much a cloaking Martial Art would cost, but it would be far, far above the measly 15 points that I had. Phew. At least, for now, the moral quagmire disappeared.

  ... then again.

  Maybe... it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world? I mean, he's clearly scheming to figure out whether I can 'procure' things, but he went about it in a rather straightforward fashion. He doesn't know that I know who he is, so he probably just thinks I'm a mildly peculiar little nobody with some faint luck.

  Whether I agree or refuse won't change how he views me much, as he'll still probably think I just got some luck on my side. After all, it wasn't as though I'd be procuring some Immortal Scriptures or anything, but the kind of Martial Arts that were barely above average for this tiny corner of the world.

  Hmm.

  Forget it.

  There's no point thinking about it for now. If I do scrape up some Creation Points, I'll revisit it.

  "Ha ha, you, oh you joker, disciple, ha ha..." I awkwardly extricated myself from the situation, leaving under his scrutinizing gaze.

  First and foremost... I can't keep living here. Though I did some minor cleanup on the day of my arrival, and I aired out the stench at least, it wasn't enough. This place looked like a house of some crazy old dude who'd come out with a pitchfork if kids trespassed, screaming some weird, outdated curses like 'I'll tan your hide!' or 'Git, 'fore I sic the dogs on ye!', or 'You little rapscallion, I'll send you to kingdom come!'.

  And, though I'm older, I don't consider myself old. Not yet, anyway. I don't like kids, true, and the sound of their high-pitched voices did occasionally boil my blood, but I have never yelled from a window at the kids in front of the apartment complex to stop screaming and driving their skateboards around! I thought it, yes, but I never said it! An important distinction, if you ask me.

  Thus, I cannot continue living in this hellhole. Luckily, I do have some knowledge of restoration--I used to work summer jobs back when I was a kid, trying to earn enough money to buy games in the 90s, and a lot of those jobs included construction, as things are always being built and torn.

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  I once spent an entire summer roofing, and to this day I consider that summer a brief, but very infernal, glimpse of hell.

  Anyway, even if I can't actually restore the entire house, I could still do some minor repairs--tearing up the floors and replacing them with new ones, switching out the furniture, fixing the broken window panes and the doorframes and caulking them... no, wait, I can't caulk them 'cause, well, this world probably doesn't have caulk. Ah, I'll figure something out.

  However, I paused for a moment; I had no ready materials on me. Unsurprisingly, Lu Qi wasn't in possession of those lucrative spatial treasures--then again, only the Sect Master and perhaps an Ancestor or two had one. In this corner of the world, that was already miraculous.

  Plus, even construction materials were considered under the 'resource distribution'. I could put in a request, but only the heavens know how many months I would have to wait... if I would ever get them.

  We weren't, however, forbidden from creating them... and though this mountain was relatively desolate, there were still quite a few trees. Of course, unprocessed lumber wouldn't exactly be a suitable material, but as long as I used Qi to cut it up nicely and dry it out enough... it would do fine, for the time being.

  It's not as though I was pursuing the quality of Earth's hardwood floors or anything, just something slightly better than the current floorboards that could scrape and claw anyone if they weren't careful. There was also the matter of rebuilding the stairs and constructing an additional room for my Disciple.

  The old man seemed uninterested in living within a cave like his peers, and I had no intention of asking that of him. Unlike restoring something, building something was still a marvel I wasn't particularly confident in. A temporary shelter that could stand for a few weeks? Sure. Anything more permanent?

  Eh.

  Eeeeeh.

  There was still one more particular issue, one that I didn't think I'd have to face at my realm... but alas, I had to poop.

  And there was no toilet! Well, there was a toilet--the abundant nature of the mountain. But I haven't done it in public..ish... since I was in college! Peeing is one thing, but... ah. I really did take a lot of my modern comforts for granted. Where are all those fanatics who claimed that people living in the medieval ages had it better?! What better, asshat?! Where's my toilet?! My bath! My sink! My fridge! Ah... my fridge...

  I have to recruit a disciple capable of using freezing arts; can you imagine living through the summer without access to cold water? I may as well just leap off the peak of this mountain!... okay, maybe not.

  Hmm. Was I always this dramatic? No, surely not. I was a businessman... kind of.

  Khm.

  Never mind all that. The first order of business was to completely clean up this place, and since there were no vacuums or anyone coming up to this mountain, it was up to me and these callus-free hands. There weren't even any brooms! Well, there were, but they all sucked a big whoop!

  Luckily, there was dry grass everywhere, and even if it wouldn't be perfect, it would be good enough for now. The only thing is... I hope I don't disturb that old disciple of mine. Maybe seeing me sweeping might make him forget that silly request of his?

  Can't even dream properly, haah. Forget it; it's not worth the headache.

  I quickly went about and plucked several hundred blades of grass, drying them out with Qi immediately, and using the loose strings from one of my robes to tie the grass to a wooden pole. It was rough, it clearly wouldn't last, and the question of whether it would even do a good job remained... but it was the first (physical) thing that I've created... and there wasn't much pride for it, to be honest.

  I didn't sweep even back on Earth, not since I was 17. I did clear snow, however, so I'm not entirely unfamiliar with the backbreaking labor.

  Anyway, brooms away!