"You survived nine years and nine months in this simulation."
"You left behind a legend in an area, influencing generations."
"You changed the fates of many people, causing a slight impact on the region."
"Settlement complete. You gained ninety simulation points in this simulation!"
As the text on the simulator interface flickered, Simon Harper regained his senses, his gaze locked on the glowing panel hovering in the dim air of the Harper family's dungeon in Fairhaven. The cold, damp stone walls seemed to press closer, the faint drip of water echoing in the oppressive silence. Despite spending nearly a decade in the Martial Realm, the threat of execution in the real world weighed heavily on his mind.
"Ninety simulation points. A strong start," Simon murmured, his voice barely carrying over the distant clank of chains. He leaned back on the rough straw mat of his cot, its musty odor mingling with the dungeon's pervasive mildew. The interface scrolled through his achievements, and he nodded, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. These points were his lifeline, a path to power and escape from the death sentence looming over him.
"Each draw costs ten more points than the last," the interface displayed. "Rewards include anything you possessed in the simulation."
Simon's pulse quickened. This was the moment he'd endured those nine years for—a chance to bring strength back to reality. "Let's hope I get something worthwhile," he thought, his fingers twitching as if reaching for the panel.
"The first draw is ten points, the second twenty," he calculated, his eyes narrowing. With a mental command, he activated the simulator. "Draw!"
A vibrant roulette materialized, its colors swirling like a carnival wheel. It spun rapidly, a blur of possibilities, before slowing to a halt. The pointer settled on a single reward.
"Consuming ten simulation points, congratulations on obtaining Lucas Reed's Origin Energy."
A warm surge of pure energy flooded Simon's body, like sunlight piercing a storm. It merged with his core, fortifying his muscles and bones. He clenched his fists, feeling the power ripple through him. The bruises from the dungeon's beatings—dark reminders of his captivity—faded, leaving his skin smooth and youthful. His body, already tempered by novice martial training, now pulsed with the vitality of an Inner Breath martial artist.
"This is Lucas Reed's strength," Simon marveled, flexing his hands. The Origin Energy deepened his martial foundation, boosting his potential. "With this and my simulation experience, I could reach the Inner Breath Realm in the real world within months."
His excitement waned as reality intruded. Months were a luxury he didn't have. The Harper Patriarch had set his execution for the fifteenth of next month—only twenty days away. Even with his enhanced body, a breakthrough in so little time was impossible. The iron bars of his cell loomed as a grim reminder.
Refusing to falter, Simon focused on the simulator. "Another draw," he commanded.
The interface shifted. "Consuming twenty simulation points, congratulations on obtaining a piece of small change."
A chunk of broken silver appeared in his palm, glinting faintly in the lamplight. Simon's lips curled into a bitter smile. "What use is this?" he muttered, tossing the silver onto the straw. In a dungeon, money was worthless. He needed power, not coins.
Undaunted, he initiated another draw. "One more."
"Consuming thirty simulation points, congratulations on obtaining Lucas Reed's Martial Cultivation."
A surge of Inner Breath erupted from his Dantian, more potent than in the simulation. Simon's muscles tightened as the energy coursed through him, his strength swelling. He exhaled slowly, steadying himself as the Inner Breath settled, vibrant and robust. "This is it," he whispered, heart pounding with exhilaration. The Inner Breath was stronger here, amplified by his real body's new Origin Energy.
Simon assessed his power. The Harper Patriarch, William Harper, was at the second realm of martial cultivation. Simon's current strength, while not yet equal, was significant within the family. "I'm no longer the weakling they caged," he thought, a spark of defiance in his eyes.
Having spent sixty points, Simon had thirty left. "Enough for now," he decided, closing the interface. He lay back on the straw, its prickly texture grounding him as he planned. The simulator required a five-day cooldown before another session, unless he spent points to bypass it. With only thirty points, he couldn't afford haste. "I'll wait," he resolved, staring at the flickering oil lamps beyond his cell.
His mind turned to the Martial Realm's system—Acquired, Innate, Grandmaster, Great Grandmaster, and the fabled Human Immortals. It diverged from the real world's, yet shared roots. "If I can merge the two systems, I could surpass everyone here," he mused. The memory of the colossal hand crushing the town fueled his ambition. Such power was a beacon, a goal to chase.
"Other worlds await in the simulator," he thought, his imagination alight with possibilities. "If I can draw their strengths and fuse them into myself, who could challenge me?"
The creak of the dungeon door broke his thoughts. Heavy footsteps approached. A figure stopped before his cell, shrouded in shadow.
"Simon, be honest," the man said, his voice low and rough. "Did your father, Thomas Harper, give you that item?"
Simon met the gaze of his second uncle, Edward Harper, his expression feigning confusion. "What item? I don't know what you mean."
Edward's eyes narrowed. "You know what kind of man Thomas is now," Simon continued, his voice tinged with sorrow. "I don't know why he betrayed the family or why I'm here."
His face showed grief, but his heart was cold. Edward's vague mention of "that item" sparked curiosity. Whatever it was, it had branded Thomas a traitor and doomed Simon to this cell. The Patriarch's ruthlessness hinted at its importance.
Edward studied him, his face unreadable. "If you remember anything, tell me immediately. I could save your life."
He turned and left, his footsteps fading into the dungeon's gloom.
Simon frowned. What had Thomas taken? Why was it worth such betrayal and punishment? The mystery gnawed, but he pushed it aside. "Their mistake was giving me twenty days," he thought, a cold smile forming.
With the simulator, time was his weapon. Each session could elevate him further, making him untouchable. For now, he'd wait, grow stronger, and seize his chance to escape.