The Saint Morrow Sect was quiet, save for the occasional cough of an old elder or the distant clang of a panicked disciple getting "accidentally enlightened" via broomstick.
But Arin Valkar? He limped like a war veteran high on spiritual fumes.
His golden-black Taoist robe looked like it had fought a fire and lost. Badly. There were more holes in it than logic in a romantic cultivation novel.
But he smiled.
Because his pain had purpose.
He'd survived a sword maiden's attention, awakened a weird system, and gained stats from being used as a training dummy.
A perfect day.
---
Back in his hut, Arin collapsed onto his straw mattress like a victorious sack of potatoes, limbs spread dramatically.
DING!
> [System Update Complete]
[New Mission Available!]
Mission: Take One More Hit, You Coward
Objective: Willingly receive a blow stronger than 500kg of impact force.
Reward: +50 XP | +1 Constitution
Penalty: [Charm: MAX] — Females will be drawn to you. Aggressively.
Duration: Permanent. Enjoy, you damn peacock.
"…System," Arin muttered into his straw pillow, "are you trying to get me laid or killed? Because both are working."
He sat up, rubbing his ribs and checking his current stats:
> [Bone-Iron Constitution — Level 2 (1972 / 2000)]
XP to next level: 28
Passive: Damage converts into growth.
Hidden Trait: Emotional Armor (+3% resistance to manipulation)
"Twenty-eight XP," he mumbled. "One solid kick away from power. If only pain were a person."
Just then, his door creaked open.
A familiar disciple leaned in, holding a mop.
"Hey," the guy muttered, "you the dude who got beat into a promotion again?"
Arin perked up. "That's me! Say, feel like helping a fellow cultivator ascend?"
"What… you want help meditating?"
"No, I want you to hit me."
The disciple blinked.
"Right in the ribs. Preferably with that mop."
"…You're serious?"
"I'm one spiritual slap away from greatness!"
The man shook his head, muttered "hell no," and backed out.
"You'll regret this when I'm a heavenly emperor!" Arin called after him. "Or a famous ghost!"
---
Later That Night
The moon hung high.
Mira Soeyri sat on a rooftop, cross-legged like a silent warden. Her long lavender hair swayed in the wind, her mismatched eyes glowing with calculation—one red like fresh blood, the other gold like prophecy.
A spirit scroll floated in front of her.
> SURVEILLANCE LOG: Subject Arin Valkar
Status: Moron With Potential
Observation: Self-harm for strength? Deliberate bruising? Suicidal boldness?
Note: Has zero fear and less shame. Dangerous.
She narrowed her eyes.
This wasn't just stupidity. It was patterned stupidity. Strategic suffering.
"He's either mad," she whispered, "or he knows something we don't."
Then she saw it.
Across the courtyard, Arin was climbing the alchemy shed again.
He jumped off.
SLAM!
"OW—beautiful!"
DING.
> [Bone-Iron Constitution — Level 2 (1999 / 2000)]
"Just one more point," he whispered like a cultist craving divine judgment.
And then?
He rammed his shoulder into the training post. The one made from demonwood.
CRACK!
DING!
> [Level Up! Bone-Iron Constitution — Level 3 (2000 / 3000)]
Trait Gained: Kinetic Masochism
Effect: 5% of damage converts into endurance growth.
Passive Buff: Fame grows with every public injury.
Arin sat on the floor, wheezing, clutching his shoulder with pride.
"Level 3, baby. That's my Arin Valkar. The GOAT of self-harm."
---
Back in his room, he struck dramatic poses in front of a cracked mirror, admiring his bruises like war medals.
Just as he flexed with one arm and rubbed his back with the other—
A knock.
Then the door creaked open.
Mira Soeyri stepped inside.
Her gaze swept across the bruises, the blood, the ridiculous grin.
"You again," she said flatly.
Arin waved. "Didn't expect a midnight date."
"You were screaming."
"Strong lungs = strong abs."
She stared.
He stared back.
He blurted, "You wanna punch me? Just once? Not in a weird way. Well, not too weird."
Mira raised an eyebrow. "If I say yes?"
He smirked. "Then I might fall for you harder than that training post."
She walked past him, inspecting the cracked beams. "You tried to level up by jumping off a building?"
"I did level up."
"That's either genius or something you read in a forbidden idiot manual."
Arin tilted his head. "You read those too?"
She sighed, turned toward him.
"I do like men with conviction..."
"Oh?"
"...but your banana's too small to be likable."
He blinked. "…Define banana."
"You wish I would."
She turned to leave.
"Wait," Arin said. "I'm not saying you have to hit me, but—"
"I'm leaving before I become part of your kink."
DING!
> [New Passive: Laugh Through Pain]
Effect: Pain reduces fear instead of causing it.
Bonus: Public embarrassment now generates +1 Resistance XP.
> [New Status: Target of Interest (Mira Soeyri)]
Buff: +5% Defense when under her gaze
Side Effect: You feel judged at all times
As she left, Mira glanced over her shoulder. "Try not to die before I figure out why you matter."
Arin shut the door behind her.
Then collapsed onto his mattress, holding his ribs with one hand and his pride with the other.
"...She said banana."
---
The system chimed one final time that night.
> Mission: Don't Die This Week
Reward: +100 XP | A shot at romance (maybe)
Penalty: [Plot Termination]
Bonus: Title Upgrade Available — "Masochistic Maniac" → "Spiritual Sadboi Supreme"
Arin grinned.
"I will become the strongest… even if I have to cry, bleed, and get roasted into enlightenment."
He shut his eyes.
Sleep came.
And with it, dreams of promotions, punches, and purple-haired girls saying wildly inappropriate things.