After securing rooms for the night at Red Ember Inn, we settled down for lunch.

  The inn had a modest eatery directly in front of the counter. It was nothing ostentatious, yet every detail carried a quiet sense of refinement with polished wood, clean floors, and soft lantern light. It was the kind of place that didn’t need to announce its luxury; it simply existed in it.

  At my vehement request, we took a table tucked into the far corner of the establishment, half-shadowed and away from the center of attention. Tao Fang frowned at the decision but didn’t argue. Tao Yu followed him obediently, though her eyes kept drifting toward the bustling hall.

  The inn the mysterious man had suggested earlier was fully booked, every room taken. With the entire city buzzing over rumors of cultivators from greater domains arriving to recruit disciples, Xincheng was packed with hopefuls. Red Ember Inn, despite its cost, still had space, and plenty of guests who looked like they were here to gamble their futures.

  I waved down a waitress. “Noodles and braised pork.”

  Tao Fang ordered duck without hesitation. Tao Yu asked for fish, her voice polite but eager.

  The Four Thunder Hooves couldn’t join us. They were busy fussing over their horses, leading them toward the stables while muttering about how their mounts were more precious than family. Considering the journey, I couldn’t blame them. The horses that had hauled the wagon the entire way belonged to them, and two had suffered sprains. All of them had taken a beating mentally after encountering a spirit beast.

  As we waited for the food, Tao Yu turned toward me, sitting straighter.

  “Senior,” she said respectfully, “what do you plan to do next?”

  I paused.

  “I don’t really know,” I admitted. “I’m… lost.”

  They listened without interrupting as I shared a fragment of my story. How one moment I had been relaxing in my home, playing a game. How the next, something strange happened. It was an accident so bizarre, I didn’t even know where to begin.

  Tao Fang leaned forward slightly, interest lighting his eyes. “What kind of accident?”

  I hesitated.

  How was I supposed to explain video games to someone from this world? How did I describe a fourth-wall-breaking old woman, pills, a system interface, and a reality that behaved like downloadable content?

  The bizarre game-like system alone was already giving me an existential headache.

  Before I could struggle out an answer, a loud voice cut through the eatery.

  “You think you deserve that table?”

  The chatter around us dipped sharply. Somewhere near the center of the hall, several cultivators had risen to their feet, qi flaring just enough to make the air prickle.

  I had been watching closely.

  After traveling with Tao Fang, Tao Yu, and the Four Thunder Hooves for days, patterns had started to emerge. Qi or whatever they called spiritual presence wasn’t something mystical and vague to me anymore. It behaved consistently. When calm, it was faint, almost imperceptible. When agitated, it surged outward, tightening muscles, sharpening movements, and warping the air just enough to be noticeable.

  Emotion fed it. Intent shaped it.

  Right now, the intent in the center of the inn was sharp enough to cut.

  Two cultivators stood facing each other, voices raised. One was lean and sharp-featured, dressed in pale robes trimmed with silver thread. His hair was white, tied loosely behind his head. The other looked rougher, broader, anger radiating off him in clumsy waves.

  They were respectively [Level 34] and [Level 27].

  Tao Fang leaned toward me, eyes gleaming like he was watching street performers instead of a brewing fight.

  “Senior,” he asked with barely contained excitement, “if the two were to fight, who would lose?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “The white-haired one.”

  Tao Fang blinked. Tao Yu tilted her head.

  Before either could question me, the fight erupted.

  The white-haired Level 34 cultivator slipped sideways with effortless grace, dodging an angry jab that cracked the air. His foot pivoted. His palm thrust forward.

  A burst of compressed wind exploded from his strike.

  The other man didn’t even have time to scream. His body lifted off the ground and was hurled straight through the inn’s entrance, crashing outside in a mess of splintered wood and shattered dignity.

  Silence fell.

  Whispers immediately followed.

  “That’s Jia Bai…”

  “Of the Silver Sword…”

  “He didn’t even draw his blade…”

  “They say he’s a rising star…”

  “The most likely to be chosen by cultivators of the greater domains…”

  Above the white-haired man’s head, his name hovered clearly.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  [Jia Bai][Level 34]

  Among everyone present, he was unquestionably the strongest, at least by local standards.

  Tao Yu leaned closer to me, her eyes bright with curiosity rather than fear. “Senior,” she asked quietly, “how would I compare to him?”

  I glanced at the numbers hovering beside her name.

  [Level 23]

  I answered honestly. “You’re weaker than the one who just got thrown outside.”

  Tao Yu froze.

  Tao Fang coughed loudly, drawing attention to himself. “Ahem. While my granddaughter has yet to earn a title in the martial world,” he said smoothly, “she is a sword prodigy. Her talent is exceptional. Given time, she would not pale in comparison to the Silver Sword.”

  I didn’t argue. I simply nodded.

  Titles didn’t matter. Levels didn’t lie.

  At that moment, the waitress arrived, mercifully breaking the tension. She placed steaming bowls and plates in front of us with noodles glistening with oil, braised pork rich and fragrant, duck and fish arranged carefully.

  I picked up my chopsticks.

  “Well,” I said calmly, “let’s eat before someone else gets launched through a wall.”

  We ate.

  Or rather, they ate, and I… negotiated.

  Using chopsticks was a losing battle. Canonically, Yakuza Man was atrocious with them, and unfortunately, that particular trait had carried over with alarming fidelity. I stabbed the braised pork with one stick and used the other to awkwardly pin it in place. As for the noodles, I gave up early and resorted to sipping the broth, slurping up whatever followed along for the ride.

  Thankfully, no one commented on it. Either they were being polite, or they had already accepted that I was strange.

  Between mouthfuls, I asked, “So what kind of work can someone who’s good at fighting actually do around here?”

  If I was going to survive in this world, I needed a steady source of income. Spirit Coins weren’t going to fall out of the sky just because I punched things well.

  Tao Fang dabbed his mouth with a cloth before answering. “That depends on one’s realm in martial arts.”

  He straightened slightly, adopting a more formal tone. “I am considered a peak expert among martial artists. In terms of cultivation, I am at the mid-stage of the Body Tempering Realm. Someone of my standing could serve as a high-ranking military officer for the government, or an elder within a reputable sect.”

  He paused, then added carefully, “However… those paths would be difficult for you, Senior.”

  I glanced at him. “Because I’m a foreigner?”

  He coughed into his sleeve. “Yes.”

  I nodded, unbothered. “It’s fine. Is it really that obvious?”

  Tao Fang gestured lightly at my clothes. “You do not blend in. And your story of being lost… does not align with someone born within this realm.”

  Fair.

  “I have no intention of changing my outfit,” I said flatly. “I like it.”

  And more importantly, I liked the buffs and hidden defenses it provided. No way I was giving that up.

  I tilted my head. “What if I told people I was a reclusive master who decided to come down from the mountains?”

  Tao Fang chuckled. “After witnessing you kill such a powerful spirit beast, I would believe it readily. Others, however, may not be so easily convinced.”

  Tao Yu leaned forward, eyes bright. “Senior, the spirit beast you killed was a monstrous existence. It had been terrorizing the Verdant Forest for some time. Many believed it would eventually gain intelligence and condense a core.”

  I nodded along, understanding maybe half of what she said.

  Core. Intelligence. Terrorizing. Dangerous. Bad.

  I should really prioritize improving my common sense of this world.

  Tao Fang continued, “The realm is relatively peaceful at present. Mercenaries are largely a thing of the past. Most conflicts take the form of duels between warriors, small skirmishes between organizations, the hunting of demonic beasts or demons, and the occasional assassination of an important figure.”

  I paused mid-slurp and sighed.

  “I’m not sure I’d call that peaceful,” I said honestly.

  Tao Fang laughed softly, as if I had told a joke rather than voiced a concern.

  Tao Yu hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “Senior, there is also the option of swearing fealty to a lord,” she said. “Some lords are willing to overlook one’s origins if their strength is sufficient.”

  Tao Fang nodded in agreement. “If your concern is livelihood, there are people better suited to advise you than us. The Four Thunder Hooves, for example. They are worldly martial artists. They have traveled far and wide and earned their names through experience.”

  I filed that away mentally.

  Before the conversation could drift further, we finished our meal. Tao Fang insisted on paying, which was the only reason I had agreed to eat with them in the first place. I wasn’t proud, but I wasn’t stupid either.

  Free food was free food.

  Once we stood, Tao Fang smiled. “We plan to go sightseeing around the city. Would you care to join us, Senior?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll pass. I’m feeling a bit out of touch.”

  That wasn’t a lie. Everything here still felt slightly misaligned, like I was wearing someone else’s life one size too small.

  Over the past few days, Tao Fang and Tao Yu had maintained a cautious distance from me. Recently, though, that wariness had softened into something closer to genuine goodwill. Because of that, I decided to be a little more open.

  “I’m thinking of visiting the local library,” I said. “Could you point me in the right direction?”

  Tao Fang blinked, then chuckled. “We are tourists here as well. However, the library should be in the more urban districts. If not, asking a passerby would suffice.”

  “That helps,” I said. “Thanks.”

  They cupped their fists and bowed toward me. “We wish Senior well,” Tao Fang said. “May we meet again here at the inn.”

  I returned the gesture properly this time, fists cupped, posture steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  They departed together, their figures quickly blending into the flow of the city.

  I wandered the city for a while.

  Xincheng was larger than it first appeared, its streets branching and folding into one another in ways that only made sense once you walked them yourself. I asked a few passersby for directions, listened carefully, and slowly pieced together a mental map. The crowds thinned as I moved away from the market districts, replaced by quieter roads lined with tall buildings and old stone walls.

  Eventually, I found it.

  “Pine Wind Book Hall.”

  The nameplate hung above a modest-looking entrance, carved from dark wood and worn smooth by time. Despite the unassuming facade, the building rose several stories high, its upper floors disappearing behind slanted roofs and latticed windows. It looked old.

  I took one step forward and stopped.

  Something was wrong.

  A man stood at the threshold, hands clasped behind his back, posture straight and immovable. He wasn’t blocking the entrance outright, but the way he occupied the space made it clear that passing him was not a trivial matter.

  Text hovered above his head.

  [Huang Long][Level 121]

  My breath caught for half a second.

  That was the highest level I had seen so far. Far higher than Tao Fang. Far higher than anyone I had encountered in this world.

  Still, I didn’t panic.

  I had beaten YKU on Hell Difficulty. Enemies capped at Level 150. Me capped at Level 75. I had memorized patterns, exploited openings, and pushed through odds that were mathematically stacked against me.

  This wasn’t a game.

  But it also wasn’t unfamiliar.

  I straightened my shoulders and walked forward, keeping my expression neutral.

  Before I could step past him, the man spoke.

  “You,” Huang Long said, his voice calm and stern, carrying an authority that pressed down on the air itself. “Join the Dragon Heart Sect.”

  I stopped.

  Of course.

  I sighed quietly. Trouble had a way of finding me whether I wanted it or not.

  Before I could respond, something invisible washed over me. It wasn’t pain. It wasn’t force. It was pressure, cold, heavy, and sinking into my spine like a hand closing around my nerves.

  [Debuff: Weakness]

  My fingers twitched. The sensation was uncomfortably familiar.

  ‘So that’s how it works,’ I thought. ‘Same principle as my Intimidation passive. Just… stronger.’

  I exhaled slowly and met his gaze. “I’d advise you not to do anything excessive,” I said evenly. “You might regret it.”

  Huang Long’s eyes narrowed, just slightly.

  “Oh?” he replied. “Is that a yes I heard?”

  The air between us tightened, and I knew, with uncomfortable certainty, that whatever happened next would not be resolved quietly.