610kg.
He had broken the theoretical limit of the 5th Stage.
Jiang Chen retracted his fist, shook his hand casually as if flicking off dust, and turned to the stunned Instructor.
"Instructor Lei," Jiang Chen asked, his voice breaking the dead silence. "Is that a pass?"
The silence in Training Hall 4 was heavy, the kind that usually followed a bomb threat or a particularly nasty accident.
"Six... six hundred and ten?" a student whispered from the back row.
The number hung in the air like a bad joke. In the Federation education system, the Body Tempering Realm was brutally quantifiable. Stages 1 to 3 were the 'Iron Skin' phase—maxing out at 300kg of force. To hit 610kg meant you were firmly in the Steel Bone phase (Stages 4-6).
Jiang Chen had jumped two entire sub-realms overnight.
Instructor Lei was the first to recover. He was a veteran of the Southern Beast Wars; he'd seen recruits burn out their meridians with illegal stimulants before. He stepped closer to the machine, checking the sensor pads. No tampering. He looked at Jiang Chen's pupils. No dilation. His Qi was calm, anchored deep in his gut.
"Pass," Lei grunted, scribbling on his datapad. "Next."
The spell broke. The room erupted into a hive of whispers.
"Machine error. Has to be."
"Maybe he popped a Berserker Pill? He's gonna crash hard in an hour."
"No way. Instructor Lei would smell the alchemy residue."
Wang Teng stood frozen near the dumbbell rack. His face, usually smug, was currently cycling through various shades of purple. He had planned this morning down to the minute: humiliate Jiang Chen, score the highest marks, and secure his spot in the Elite Class. Instead, he'd just been upstaged by a guy who couldn't afford lunch.
"You cheated," Wang Teng hissed as Jiang Chen walked back toward the line. He stepped into Jiang Chen's path, his chest puffed out. "There is no way trash like you hit 610kg. You messed with the calibration."
Jiang Chen stopped. He looked up at Wang Teng. Yesterday, this confrontation would have made his heart hammer against his ribs. Today? He just felt bored.
"If the machine is broken, file a ticket with maintenance," Jiang Chen said, his voice flat. "Or take it up with Instructor Lei. Unless you're saying the Instructor is blind?"
"You—" Wang Teng choked. Accusing a veteran Instructor was a one-way ticket to expulsion. He leaned in, dropping his voice to a venomous whisper. "Don't get cocky, slum rat. Punching a bag is easy. In the sparring ring, the bag hits back. I'm going to shatter your kneecaps later. Let's see you walk to the welfare office then."
"I'll be waiting," Jiang Chen replied, side-stepping him smoothly.
As he walked to the back of the hall, he felt eyes on him. Not just Wang Teng's.
Lin Qingxue was watching him. The Class Monitor, the 7th Stage genius, was looking at him the way a biologist looks at a mutated frog. Curious. Calculating.
Lunch Break. The Academy Cafeteria.
The cafeteria smelled of bleach and overcooked synthetic meat. Jiang Chen sat alone in the far corner, nursing a pouch of Grade-F nutrient paste. It tasted like wet chalk, but it had the calories he needed.
As he ate, he focused inward. The interface of the Myriad Heaven's Grave flickered in his mind's eye.
[Host: Jiang Chen]
[Realm: Body Tempering 5th Stage (Peak)]
[Technique: Flowing Wind Sword Steps (Yellow-Tier High Grade)]
[Grave Exploration: 0.01%]
"0.01%..." Jiang Chen thought, scraping the last drop of paste from the pouch. "I killed one nameless disciple and got this strong. What happens if I kill a Sect Elder? Or a General?"
The potential was terrifying. But he had a bottleneck.
His head still throbbed with a dull ache—the backlash of using his soul to enter the Grave. To go back in, he needed mental fortitude. He needed Soul-Nourishing Herbs or high-grade energy food.
Those things cost Credits. And Jiang Chen currently had 50 Credits to his name.
"Attention students!" The overhead speakers crackled. "Afternoon Sparring is moved to Arena 4. Today's format is Open Challenge. The winner of the King of the Ring bracket receives a bottle of Tier-1 Blood Vitality Pills."
Jiang Chen's head snapped up.
Blood Vitality Pills.
In the Federation market, one bottle was worth 2,000 Credits. For a Body Tempering cultivator, they were liquid gold—pure energy to replenish stamina and nourish the blood.
He crumpled the empty nutrient pouch in his fist.
"Looks like I have to fight."
Arena 4.
The sparring platform was a raised square of reinforced alloy, surrounded by a translucent energy barrier to catch stray Qi blasts.
Instructor Lei stood in the center, arms crossed. "Rules are standard Federation dueling laws. No killing. No maiming. No strikes to the groin or eyes. Ring-out or Knockout wins. Who starts?"
"I do."
Wang Teng vaulted over the ropes before anyone else could move. He landed heavily, the impact vibrating the floor. He didn't look at the crowd. He pointed a finger straight at the corner where Jiang Chen stood.
"Get up here, Jiang."
The crowd buzzed with excitement. Everyone loved a grudge match.
"Wang Teng is Peak 5th Stage," a student whispered nearby. "His family specializes in the Iron Palm. It's a Yellow-Tier Mid-Grade combat skill. Jiang Chen only knows the basic military boxing taught in P.E. class. He's dead."
Jiang Chen stood up slowly. He walked up the metal stairs, his expression blank.
"Are you sure about this?" Jiang Chen asked, stepping onto the mat. "Medical bills aren't cheap."
"Keep talking," Wang Teng sneered. He dropped into a low stance. His skin began to flush a deep, angry red. He was channeling his Qi into his hands—the signature of the Iron Palm. His veins bulged. "I'm going to break your ribs one by one."
"Begin!" Instructor Lei shouted, chopping his hand down.
BOOM!
Wang Teng exploded forward.
He was fast for a big guy. He crossed the ten-meter gap in a heartbeat, his right palm glowing with faint red Qi, thrusting toward Jiang Chen's sternum like a battering ram.
The air whistled. That strike carried at least 600kg of force. If it connected, Jiang Chen would be coughing up lung fragments.
"Dodge it!" someone screamed.
Jiang Chen didn't retreat.
At the last possible fraction of a second, he exhaled.
He didn't step back. He stepped sideways.
His feet moved in a strange, gliding pattern. It didn't look like running; it looked like he was sliding on oil.
Whoosh.
Wang Teng's palm struck empty air, missing Jiang Chen's shirt by a millimeter.
"What?" Wang Teng stumbled, his momentum carrying him forward.
Jiang Chen was suddenly beside him. In the Grave, the ancient ghost swordsman had moved like smoke in a storm. Compared to that, Wang Teng moved like a tractor.
"Too wide," Jiang Chen whispered.
He didn't punch. He used his shoulder. He checked Wang Teng's momentum, slamming his shoulder into the bully's exposed ribs.
Thud.
It wasn't a knockout blow, but it destroyed Wang Teng's balance. He staggered sideways, flailing.
"You slippery rat!" Wang Teng roared, spinning around with a wild backhand.
Jiang Chen ducked under the arm. He was fluid. He was water.
Flowing Wind Sword Steps.
He danced around Wang Teng. Left, right, behind. Wang Teng unleashed a furious barrage of palms, kicks, and elbows, but he hit nothing but afterimages.
"Fight me!" Wang Teng screamed, his face purple with exertion. "Stop running and fight!"
"Okay," Jiang Chen said.
He stopped moving. He stood right in front of Wang Teng, his chest open.
Wang Teng's eyes lit up. "Got you!"
He channeled every scrap of Qi he had into a double palm strike aimed at Jiang Chen's heart. Iron Palm: Mountain Crusher!
Jiang Chen's eyes narrowed. The world seemed to slow down. The image of the ancient ghost overlapped with his vision.
Opening detected.
Jiang Chen stepped into the attack. He brought his right hand up, fingers stiff and straight.
He didn't use a fist. He used his hand like a sword.
He slipped past Wang Teng's guard and struck the soft spot just below the armpit—the brachial nerve cluster.
Thwack.
"ARGH!"
Wang Teng's attack died instantly. His right arm went limp, paralyzed by the precision strike.
Before Wang Teng could recover, Jiang Chen spun. A high kick, fueled by the rotational torque of his footwork, whipped around and slammed into the side of Wang Teng's head.
CRACK.
It was the wet, heavy sound of a boot meeting a jawbone.
Wang Teng spun in the air and crashed face-first onto the alloy floor. He slid for three meters, stopping right at Instructor Lei's boots.
He twitched once, then went still. Out cold.
The arena went dead silent.
Jiang Chen stood in the center, barely breathing hard. He looked at his hand. The Sword Step wasn't just for dodging. It was for positioning. It allowed you to be where the enemy didn't want you to be.
Instructor Lei looked down at the unconscious student, then up at Jiang Chen. His eyes were wide.
"That footwork..." Lei muttered. "That wasn't standard issue. That was... an Ancient Martial Art?"
"Instructor," Jiang Chen called out, breaking the stupor. "The pills?"
Lei blinked. He cleared his throat, regaining his composure.
"Winner: Jiang Chen!"
The crowd detonated.
"One shot! He one-shot him!"
"Did you see that? He moved like a ghost!"
"Wang Teng got folded!"
Jiang Chen ignored the noise. He caught the small ceramic bottle thrown by the instructor.
[Item Acquired: Blood Vitality Pills (x3)]
He pocketed them and turned to leave. He had what he came for.
"Wait."
A figure blocked his path at the bottom of the stairs.
It was Lin Qingxue.
She stood with her arms crossed, her gaze intense. Up close, the pressure of her 7th Stage cultivation was palpable.
"That footwork," she said, her voice low. "It's not in the Academy archives. Where did you learn it?"
Jiang Chen looked her in the eye. "I found an old manual in the recycling center. You know, us rats find all sorts of things in the trash."
He tried to step around her.
"Jiang Chen," she said, not moving. "The City-Wide Mock Exam is in three days. The top 5 students get a ticket to the Spirit Spring Ruins."
Jiang Chen paused. Spirit Spring Ruins? That was a government-controlled pocket dimension overflowing with pure Qi. One day of cultivation inside was worth a month outside.
"If you want to survive," Lin Qingxue said, "aim for that. Because after what you just did to Wang Teng... his older brother won't be happy. And his brother is in the Qi Gathering Realm."
She turned and walked away, her long black hair swaying.
Jiang Chen watched her go.
"Qi Gathering Realm, huh?" He touched his pocket, feeling the cool ceramic of the pill bottle. "That means he can use Qi projection. Bullets won't stop him."
He walked out of the arena, into the blinding afternoon sun.
"I need to be stronger," he whispered. "I need to go back into the Grave tonight."
Tonight, he wouldn't be fighting minions. Tonight, he was going boss hunting
Author's Thought
*Hello everyone,please share your thought about story* :)