Lin Fan sat alone in his empty courtyard. The sun was rising higher. The memory of Su Mei's happy, departing smile was still fresh in his mind. It was the smile of a satisfied customer, not a disciple.
He had failed.
"She used me," Lin Fan said to the empty air. He was not angry about the night. That part was excellent. He was angry about his failed business negotiation. He got a one-time payment of XP, but he lost a long-term contract.
He stood up and began to pace around the stone Obelisk. His lazy attitude was gone. He was now a serious game designer trying to fix a bug in his strategy, in his life. The bug was his inability to recruit permanent players.
"I need player retention," he said to himself. "Let's be logical. Why would a player…er..disciple choose a Master?"
He started to break down the problem, point by point.
First, there was Power.
A disciple wants a powerful Master. A Master at the Core Formation or Nascent Soul realm is a mountain of strength. They can protect their disciples. They can teach powerful techniques. Elder Li of the Battle Hall was a Nascent Soul expert. Disciples lined up for a chance to learn from him. His every word was law because he could back it up with a punch that could shatter a hill.
And Lin Fan? He was Qi Condensation, Level 4. An inner sect disciple like Su Mei could probably beat him in a real fight. His combat power was a joke. No genius would want a Master who was weaker than them. This was a massive disadvantage. He had zero points in the Power category.
Second, there were Resources, Money.
A disciple needs resources to cultivate. Spirit stones for energy, alchemy pills to speed up progress, and good weapons to fight. A good Master provides these things. Elder Chen, the head alchemist, was very popular. His disciples received a monthly supply of high-quality pills. They progressed much faster than others.
And Lin Fan? He had no spirit stones. He did not need them. He had no pills. He did not make them. His System inventory had one 'Goblin King's Crude Sword'. To anyone else, it would look like a piece of junk metal. He could not offer any real, tangible resources to a disciple. He had zero points in the Resources category.
Third, there was Status and Reputation.
A Master's name is a form of power, a form of respect. Being the disciple of a respected elder opens many doors. Disciples of the Sect Master's brother were treated with respect everywhere they went. They got the best missions. They got the best living quarters.
And Lin Fan? His reputation was strange. Some disciples saw him as a mysterious miracle worker. But many elders, like Elder Chen, saw him as a fraud or a demonic cultivator. His status was not stable. He had no political power in the sect. Being his disciple was a gamble. It could bring benefits, but it could also bring suspicion. He had maybe one point in the Status category, and it was a shaky one.
Power, resources, status. The three most important things. He had none of them.
"So what do I have?" he asked himself.
He looked at his reflection in a small puddle of water. "I have a handsome face."
That was a fact. His new body was young and good-looking. It was useful for seducing grateful disciples for one night. It was useful for flirting. But it was not useful for recruiting a serious cultivator. A handsome face could not teach a disciple how to swing a sword or break through to the next realm. It was worthless.
His true asset was the System. The Secret Realms. The ability to guarantee safe and stable progression. This was his miracle. But it was also his greatest secret.
He finally understood his position in the sect. He was not seen as a Master. He was seen as a tool. A very special, very useful tool.
A disciple with an unstable foundation would come to him. He would use the 'Lin Fan Tool' to fix their problem. Then, they would thank the tool and return to their real, powerful Master. Nobody wanted to be the disciple of a hammer. They wanted to be the disciple of the blacksmith who wielded it.
"No genius will ever choose me," Lin Fan concluded with a sigh. "Any disciple with talent, ambition, or a good background will have better options. They will use me and leave, just like Su Mei."
He sat down in his bamboo chair, feeling defeated for a moment. He could only attract desperate, one-time customers. His dream of a lazy life, funded by an army of hard-working disciples, seemed impossible.
He was only left with the trash choices. The disciples nobody else wanted.
The ones with very poor cultivation talent. The ones whose meridians were damaged. The ones who had no money and no family to support them. The outcasts. The failures. The trash of the Green Cloud Sect.
He sat there for a long time, thinking.
Then, a slow, wide smile spread across his face. It was not a happy smile. It was the scummy, clever smile of a perverted game designer who just found a brilliant exploit.
"Wait a minute," he whispered. "If I can only get trash... then this is a perfect opportunity."
A new plan, a truly scumbag plan, formed in his mind.
If a genius disciple of Elder Li becomes stronger, nobody is surprised. It is expected.
But what if a disciple, known by everyone as hopeless trash, suddenly becomes a genius? What if a boy with broken meridians starts to surpass the sect's top talents? That would be a true miracle. That would shake the entire sect.
"If life gives me trash," Lin Fan said, his eyes gleaming with greedy light, "I will not throw it away. I will use my System to recycle it. I will turn this trash into the purest gold."
These desperate, hopeless disciples would have nowhere else to go. They would be completely loyal to him, the only person who gave them a chance. They would work hard for him. They would fight in his dungeons every single day. They would become his perfect, permanent XP farming machines.
He would build his power not by recruiting the best, but by creating the best from the worst.
"Yes," he chuckled. "This is a much better plan. Now... where do I find the sect's biggest piece of trash?"