Book 1 Chapter 9 Level Up!
…
A week of ceaseless, low-level anxiety later, Han Rowan was a different man.
The physical exhaustion was profound, yet the mental resilience had sharpened into a diamond-hard, pragmatic shell. He was a nomad now, sleeping fitfully beneath the roots of gargantuan trees, constantly vigilant, and spending every sunrise practicing the grotesque, powerful movements of the Raging Tiger Claw. Without Qi, the movements felt stiff and purely physical, but the core strength he was developing, the muscle memory, was real. He felt heavier, sturdier, and added his very own strength, before he is now clearly stronger than his previous condition on Earth.
He had learned to walk off-road, avoiding established paths, but the constant movement inevitably led to encounters.
…
It happened on the fourth day. Rowan was cautiously crossing a small clearing when a creature the size of a large domestic cat dropped from an overhead branch. It was a Venomous Squirrel, its tail segmented and rattling, its large, black eyes blazing with aggression. The creature was alarmingly fast, a blur of brown fur and vicious teeth.
The moment the Squirrel entered his range, the Strange Bag's automated combat system kicked in, and the ethereal overlay flashed:
[Opponent: Venomous Squirrel (Level 1 Beast). HP: 1/1/1/1/1/1. Status: Venom (Active).]
Rowan immediately froze, a strategy he'd learned was better than panicking, as his own actions often interfered with the system's elegant-yet-savage choreography.
But what surprised him this time is that the HP is now divided into 5 sections. He wanted to ask why this is so, but he did not have time to do this as the battle had already started. He then noticed that his HP is also divided into 5 sections, but it seems that he is stronger than his opponent.
[Han Rowan (Level 2). HP: 3/3/3/3/3/3. Qi: 5: Status: A bit tired.]
He also frowned when he noticed that there was now a Qi display in his status panel. How did he get Qi? And it is 5, this made him feel a hint of excitement at the same time confusion.
"Am I going to be a cultivator now? Am I able to fly? To traverse mountains in one leap! I'm going to be a superhuman!" he exclaimed excitedly in his mind as his face contorted into a wicked smile.
But before he could dream further, he was startled when his opponent made its move.
The Squirrel leaped, a high-arcing projectile aiming straight for Rowan's exposed, grinning face. Rowan tensed, his hands instinctively coming up, an echo of the Raging Tiger Claw form.
Before the beast was halfway, the system activated.
[Malignant Marble A: Launched! Cooldown: 6.0s] (Of course, the Malignant Marble part was only in Rowan's mind. It just displays… Rock.)
The first Malignant Marble materialized above Rowan's shoulder with a sharp thwack of displaced air. It was a perfect sphere of murderous grey, and it zipped toward the Squirrel. It didn't aim for a vital spot; it simply targeted the largest available hit box: the creature's Body.
Venomous Squirrel (Body): -2 HP. Remaining HP: -2/1/1/1/1/1. EFFECTIVE KILL!
The impact was less a sound and more a sudden, squelching end. The tiny, deadly beast ceased its parabolic flight and dropped, mid-air, a lifeless, deflated sack of fur, its entire torso crushed flat.
The Malignant Marble A hovered over the corpse for a moment, its duty fulfilled, before winking out of existence, returning to the ethereal 1x1 slot in the Strange Bag grid, its cooldown cycle immediately starting.
Rowan stared. The whole fight had lasted 0.8 seconds. He hadn't moved an inch, except for the internal flinch. The trauma was dulling into a clinical observation: the Marbles were terrifyingly overpowered against low-level life forms.
[Battle Ended. Opponent defeated. HP Restored. Shop Inventory Refreshed. Coins Gained: 0.1]
[Venomous Squirrel Corpse (Dispensable) added to Unlimited Storage.]
"A 0.1 coin for a dead squirrel," Rowan sighed, mentally collecting his reward. "It's like an ultra-violent paper route."
Immediately after the seemingly easy battle, Rowan saw something that surprised him, as he had not noticed this before. After going out of the shop menu and displaying the main grid, he saw an exclamation mark near his handsome visage in the system.
Upon thinking of clicking the handsome visage, he was greeted with a surprise.
A celebratory, almost taunting trumpet sound erupted in the interface, followed by a shower of virtual confetti.
[Congratulations, Han Rowan! You have attained Level 2!]
(Total Experience Earned: 5/200)
Rowan blinked, confused. He hadn't been grinding; he'd just been surviving. He had not focused on this for a while now because of the trauma, but now it has given him a great surprise.
"So the little fellow only gave me 5 EXP?"
The notification, however, was immediately followed by a profound, cold change in the system display.
The entire interface sharpened, growing crisper, the lettering turning from a soft gold to a stark, blood-red hue. His own status panel, which had previously only shown his name and coin count, now expanded with terrifying, granular detail.
He saw his own body, a stylized, skeletal silhouette, overlaid with six distinct, glowing sections: Head, Body, Left Arm, Right Arm, Left Leg, Right Leg.
And next to each section, a health bar.
[HEAD: 3 HP / 3 HP][BODY: 3 HP / 3 HP][LEFT ARM: 3 HP / 3 HP][RIGHT ARM: 3 HP / 3 HP][LEFT LEG: 3 HP / 3 HP][RIGHT LEG: 3 HP / 3 HP]
Rowan stared, his mouth hanging slightly open. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Six health bars? I'm playing a retro RPG with hyper-realistic injury modeling."
He remembered the common knowledge he'd gleaned from the system notes: For normal people, the HP is only around 1 or 2 per section.
The Level 2 boost had increased his base structural integrity to three per segment. A total pool of 18 HP, but crucially, if any single section dropped to zero, he was likely crippled or dead.
"So, Ro Fung was a Level 5 Martial Body, but he might only have two HP per segment. Or rather, his head only has 2 HP. Is he a blockhead or something? He was a wet noodle despite the Qi," Rowan mused, finally putting together the system's brutal logic. "My Level 2 is purely a physical, mortal durability upgrade. My total HP is higher than a typical level Five cultivator's; it's just that if my leg HP drops to zero, I'm not running anymore. That is… horrifyingly specific."
He instinctively flexed his left arm, watching the green bar for [LEFT ARM] remain fixed at 3/3. The feeling was the same, but the knowledge was heavy. He was now a meat sack with numerical damage reduction, a six-part target in a world of flying murder-marbles.
He tried feeling Qi, but to his dismay, he could not feel anything weird. So he knew that the Qi displayed there was not for him. His eyes landed on the stone knife, and his mind suddenly had a realization. The Stone Knife needed Qi; if the Qi is lacking, then he would not be able to use it, right?
He shrugged off the morbid realization. It was data. And data was power.
…
The following days…
Two more such encounters—a large, aggressive forest pig and a gliding, six-winged insect—had netted him 0.2 more coins. The encounters were swift, brutal, and utterly impersonal.
Current Coins: 2.2
He had also accumulated a respectable stash of silver currency from the beasts and odd bits of scavenging in the forest—the kind of money that bought a meal or a cheap room in a village, but which the strange bag ignored.
He finally settled down beside a stream, pulled up the shop interface, and saw an item he'd been waiting for: the Thorns accessory.
Thorns: 2 coins /1x1 / +1 damage to attackers when attacked.
It was perfect. A tiny, passive deterrent. An insurance policy against being hit.
"I'm buying a metaphor," Rowan mumbled, executing the purchase.
Current Coins: 0.2
...
He slotted the 1x1 Thorns icon directly into the 2x3 Sackcloth area, nestled next to the Stone Knife. The Sackcloth itself, it turned out, had a strange symbiotic relationship with the Thorns: if Thorns are inside, it produces 1 Thorns after battle. Rowan felt a hint of excitement. If he could equip more than one Thorns, then that would be more beneficial in the future. Or he could just sell them for 1 coin.
Upon seeing the Thorns, Rowan felt like it was a good value for two coins.
With only 0.2 coins remaining, he browsed the shop again. His current working grid space was almost full, so he needed a bigger bag.
Travel Bag: 4 coins / 2x2 / 10% chance of healing 5HP every 20 seconds.
He didn't have the money, but he had the space in his mind for Reservation. He locked the Travel Bag into a shop slot. The price was steep, but the passive healing was a massive advantage for a non-cultivator.
"Gotta save up for that sweet, sweet 10% chance of passive healing chance," he said, feeling the absurd commercialism of his new life. "Forget the pursuit of the Grand Dao. My pursuit is the pursuit of 10% better odds."
…
Meanwhile, a few hundred kilometers away in a lavish, slightly too-perfumed courtyard, Young Master Jin, otherwise known as Jin Chen, sneered at a trembling subordinate.
Jin Chen was a man whose cultivation prowess was only slightly eclipsed by the sheer, unbridled arrogance of his family name. He was lounging on a chaise, sipping a delicate, pale tea.
"Ro Fung is dead?" Jin Chen asked, his voice smooth, but with a viper's hiss underneath.
"Yes, Young Master. He was… found. Decapitated. His belongings were scattered, save for his inner armor and manual. I think someone was helping that… Gong Fa, or we presume, he just got lucky."
Jin Chen sniffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Lucky? Ro Fung was barely a Level 5 Martial Body. The man was a disgrace to the Sect's auxiliary ranks. He was a tool to be used, and he broke. Honestly, I never expected this, but that Gong Fa or the killer behind him did me a favor. Saved me the trouble of cutting the loose end myself."
He paused, a cruel, calculating look entering his eyes. "However, I cannot allow that fellow to smudge my reputation by killing Ro Fung to go unpunished. It's an insult to the Jin family name, not a matter of a failed mission."
He looked at two disciples standing rigidly before him: Martial Body Level 5, stout, and dull-eyed men named Mu and Zao. They were reliable, if unimaginative, brutes.
"Mu. Zao. I want you to backtrack Ro Fung's trail. Find that… Gong Fa and the one who killed Ro Fung. I don't care if he's a mortal or a rogue cultivator hiding in the shadows. I want those two crippled, their bones crushed, and brought back here to me barely alive. Their death will be slower than that of idiot Ro Fung."
Jin Chen took a sip of tea. "Go. And do not fail. You are top Level 5, not as weak as that buffoon, Ro Fung. You cannot lose to some lucky farmer. He was simply weak, you see. That's all this is."
The two disciples bowed deeply. "Yes, Young Master!"
They turned and marched out, their sturdy boots already eating up the ground toward the unknown forest, two grim, humorless hounds on a scent.
…
Rowan, entirely unaware of the lethal escalation of his predicament, spent another day walking. He was now slightly cleaner, his muscles a little tighter from the Raging Tiger Claw practice, and his mental state was a strained equilibrium between paranoia and grim determination. He still had 0.2 coins, a stone knife, two murderous rocks, and a deep-seated desire for that Travel Bag.
He had followed a nearly invisible, deer-worn path that tracked alongside a slow-moving river, reasoning that water sources always led to civilization. But he dared not walk near it.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting the forest in long, orange streaks of light, he rounded a bend in the path and saw it.
Through a sparse curtain of silver-barked trees, a break in the wilderness revealed a sprawling, haphazard collection of timber and mud-brick structures nestled beneath a low, stone wall. Smoke curled lazily from a dozen chimneys, and the air carried the faint, wonderful smell of burning wood, dust, and cooking oil.
It was a town.
A weathered, leaning signpost stood just outside the main gate, its carved words faded but legible enough to confirm the place's identity, perhaps the most passive-aggressive name ever bestowed upon a settlement.
Slow Turtle Town.
Rowan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He was out of the deep woods. He reached into his pocket and took out a few silver coins from the system storage, which sounded their reassuring jingle.
He had made it.
The Malignant Marbles had brought him murder, but the Strange Bag had brought him survival. He adjusted his stolen, hidden Cloth Vest inside his robe, gritted his teeth, and walked toward the town gate, a traumatized, Level 2, six-segment mortal in a world of immortals.
He knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his core, that Slow Turtle Town would not be slow for long.