Kyle regarded her with a glower.
The beautiful stranger was a hardened one, and that alone told him how long it might take to win her over without ending up dead or maimed beyond repair.
The only reason his body was fully restored within hours, as though the wounds had never existed, was his maximum stamina at his cultivation stage, which accelerated healing far beyond any mortal's rate.
Of course, that stamina had only been replenished after being drained in battle.
Without that reward, he would still be lying there, dead.
Thus, if he sustained another injury or his stamina dropped, there was no guarantee it would be restored to its peak again.
It was far wiser not to provoke her and instead present the offer in an indirect way while carefully omitting the fact that he stood to gain from the exchange.
He exhaled sharply and tilted his head towards the ceiling, tightening his grip on the iron picker.
Neither of them trusted the other, each aware that an attack could come at any moment.
However, only Kyle's mind remained wired for such possibilities, a habit forged through repeated encounters of that nature.
The damsel, on the other hand, though she did not trust him, regarded him not as a threat but as an insect she could crush at will.
But now, it was the approach of her death that kept her detached from the situation.
Still, Kyle had recently claimed he knew a way to save her, a claim she dismissed as nothing more than an excuse to cling to the safety of this shelter.
Kyle made another attempt to present the idea, driven as much by its benefits as by any intent to help.
His voice took on a slow, persuasive rhythm.
"If you care to listen, I can explain. After all, you are the one on the verge of dying, perhaps in two or three days. And—"
She interrupted once more, her expression flat and unblinking, the ornate gun aimed squarely at him.
With a tone edged in mockery, she spoke:
"And I will ask again, how exactly do you intend to do that? I see you are remarkably confident in chasing death. Has it not registered in your head that the only reason you still breathe is because you are too insignificant and dull to bother killing?"
"In truth, I doubt you have much longer either. Starvation will claim you soon enough. In that sense, our situations are scarcely different."
Kyle seized the brief opening in her words, meeting the barrel's dark circle with a hard stare and tightening his tone into something cutting.
"You are insufferable. At least I face my end as a frail man who never allowed corruption to touch me. You, however, are fading not from hunger, which is common in this world, but because the gods themselves cast you aside and let corruption rot you from within.
"You have three days at most. I may collapse from hunger at any moment. That much is plain to see. So here it is without pretence. I have awakened a manual containing a singular cultivation method capable of purifying cores through…"
He hesitated, the confession sticking as if his tongue resisted giving away the secret, yet his fixation on the potential gain forced the words forward.
The beautiful stranger's lips curled in a mirthless laugh, her eyes holding him with a level, venomous focus.
"And what is this miraculous cultivation method that allegedly purifies bonds? I have never encountered such a thing in this so-called new order. Save me the farce, and if your claim proves hollow or absurd, I will ensure you do not leave this place alive."
With the conversation now a matter of survival, Kyle judged there might still be room to manoeuvre, though he intended to reveal nothing in a careless manner.
He lowered his head slightly and spoke with measured optimism:
"Through bonding, I can cleanse your core, and that would grant you more time. If you doubt me, then end me now."
The beautiful lady gave a derisive laugh.
Comprehending the absurdity of his proposition, she eased the weapon down and replied in a tone as cold as polished steel.
"Your mix of arrogance and self-pity deserves its own study. Never have I met a wretch bold enough to walk up and announce his intent to bed a dying woman. Yet now you have my curiosity about this so-called technique. You mean to say… dual cultivation?"
Kyle's eyes widened.
How could she possibly know the term?
It was hardly common knowledge. His own understanding came only because the manual had made its nature unmistakable, not because it was widely spoken of.
Yet this stranger had named it without hesitation, and a glimmer of hope flickered in his chest.
'Perhaps she might accept...'
He could not be certain, but the possibility existed, and for now that was enough to anchor his resolve.
...Her next words extinguished that faint spark, replacing it with a deeper, darker scowl.
***
"You are a fool to imagine I would believe you possess such a technique. Every one of those was lost and defiled when corruption swept through this world. So tell me, how could you possibly hold it?" the stranger said icily, rising from her seat and stepping towards him.
Kyle locked his jaw and clenched the iron picker until the metal bit into his palm, his body coiled and ready to meet either a strike or a counter.
In truth, if this woman chose to kill him, he would be gone before his mind even registered the blow.
She had countless advantages over him and surpassed him in every conceivable measure.
It left him to speculate just how formidable she might have been in her prime.
When their eyes met, her face mere centimetres from his, she spoke in a voice as cold as frost.
"What is your name, weasel? I am Lee Na-Ri, though you may call me Na-Ri. Not that you will live long enough to use it."
Frustration coiled in Kyle's chest, tightening until it forced him to speak through gritted teeth.
He was already at his limit.
How weak did everyone think he was? A weasel?
He scoffed and pressed a hand to his temple before speaking in a controlled, icy tone.
"First, my name is Kyle, not 'weasel.' I'm not fool enough to be looked down on. I'll admit you're stronger, but I have a way to pull you back from your doom, Ms. Strong. And if you truly want to die, be my guest; I will leave you to it. You think I'm after your body out of lust? Enlighten me, how so? You have been pissing me off since the very first impression."
The beautiful woman broke into sudden laughter, though its edge carried disgust and mockery.
When the sound ebbed, she eased herself down beside him and said:
"I want to believe you, because as you have said, I could die at any moment, and I know it. But why would you bother saving me, knowing I have called you weak and even considered killing you, only to find you not worth the effort? And more importantly, what is your gain? Answer honestly, and I might give you a chance, since that technique you speak of does, in fact, exist."
Kyle's teeth pressed together.
A faint tremor of anger still clung to him, but self-interest restrained any reckless reply, and he matched her pragmatism.
"In short, I grow stronger. I gain whatever power or skill you possess," he said coolly.
Her expression shadowed as she held his gaze for a long, silent moment before it eased with some unspoken calculation.
When she finally spoke, her tone carried a deceptive lightness, warmth painted over steel.
"That is it? A mutual benefit? I want to live, you want to grow stronger. Then we should bond. But understand this, there will be no romance in it. You step out of line and I will kill you. Clear?"
The swiftness of her acceptance caught him off guard.
For someone so guarded, she wasted no time on hesitation, much less on modesty.
There was no trace of bashfulness in her manner, only the blunt certainty of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.
Kyle agreed without delay.
He disliked her as much as she irritated him, and there was no reason to prolong this.
The only thing that stirred him was her deadpan certainty. It raised questions.
Why was she not part of some powerful faction, and why was she alone in a world this vast?
'Just who the hell are you?' he thought.
Her next words cut into his musing.
"Fine. I will agree to the dual cultivation. After this, we will never repeat it unless it is absolutely necessary. Now, give me a moment to clean up. A girl does not go to bed like this."
Her mood had shifted, a faint lift in her tone, though the frost beneath remained.
Kyle shook his head, feeling an unexpected twinge of self-consciousness.
Was he truly about to go through with this?
***
[Consent Sync Complete]
[Bond Link Established]
[Instructions and procedural steps will be synchronised into your memory]
Congratulations on unlocking a new achievement, [Clueless]
Bond Links: [1]
***
'Oh, marvellous. I have a single link now. I wonder if it has a limit on how many I can form?' he mused inwardly.
Naturally, he knew the manual was hardly an assistant that would indulge his questions.
Without warning, Kyle's mind was inundated with vivid recollections of various positions and every conceivable step related to intimacy.
In an instant, he was imbued with the mannerisms and confidence of one possessing an inexhaustible wealth of sexual experience.
A fleeting spark of astonishment lit his eyes.
Na-Ri rose from her seat beside him and walked out of the theatre room, a frown shadowing her features and her fists clenched tightly.
He, however, remained entirely oblivious to this.
Then, without prelude, the most absurd yet strangely troubling thought struck him.
'Why on earth would you tag me as Clueless!?'