Zhao Wuji flicked his wrist, and a single stick of incense embedded itself into the hard-packed dirt of the clearing, the tip igniting with a glowing red ember.
"You have the time it takes for this incense to burn down to formulate a plan," Zhao Wuji announced, crossing his massive, tree-trunk arms over his chest. "I suggest you use it wisely. Rank 76 isn't a joke, kids."
He took a few heavy steps backward, giving the five applicants space to huddle up.
Mame slowly stood up from his velvet armchair. He didn't dispel the chair back into his ring; he just casually smoothed out the front of his silver-white silk robes and walked over to join the group. For a fleeting moment, he was willing to play along and see just how insufferable the Tang Sect genius truly was.
As the group formed a loose circle, Tang San immediately stepped into the center, his posture radiating a quiet, self-appointed authority.
"We don't have much time, so we need to coordinate our Martial Souls," Tang San began, his voice completely level and analytical. "My name is Tang San. I am a Rank 29 Control System Spirit Master. My Martial Soul is Blue Silver Grass."
Ning Rongrong raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Blue Silver Grass? The trash spirit? And you're Rank 29?"
"It is not trash if used correctly," Tang San replied, his tone carrying a faint edge of defensive pride. He looked around the circle, deliberately making eye contact with everyone except Mame. "According to my Master's theories, a Control System Spirit Master must act as the absolute brain of any combat formation. Therefore, I will take command of our strategy. I will manage the battlefield and dictate the flow of our attacks. Xiao Wu and Zhu Zhuqing, you two have agility-based forms. You will flank the Vice Dean and wait for my signal to—"
"Stop talking," a smooth, icy voice interrupted.
The entire group turned. Mame was looking at Tang San with a mixture of aristocratic pity and profound boredom.
Tang San's jaw tightened. "Do you have a problem with the strategy?"
"I have a problem with the premise," Mame replied, stepping slightly forward. The heavy, intimidating aura of Young Master Bai effortlessly completely swallowed Tang San's attempt at leadership. "With exactly what qualifications are you appointing yourself the leader of this vanguard?"
Tang San's eyes narrowed, the hypocritical rage bubbling just beneath his calm exterior. "I just explained it. My Master is the foremost researcher on Spirit Master combat on the continent. The Grandmaster's core theory explicitly states that a Control System is the most suited for leadership. My Blue Silver Grass can monitor the entire field, restrict the enemy, and protect our flanks. Without my coordination, we will just be throwing blind attacks at a Spirit Sage."
Mame let out a slow, deeply mocking sigh. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose as if Tang San were giving him a physical headache.
"You are quoting the theoretical scribblings of a man who has never fought a real war in his life," Mame said, his voice dropping into a lethal, insulting whisper. "You look at a Rank 76 Vigorous Vajra Bear and your first instinct is to tie it up with weeds because a book told you to. Your 'Master' is an idiot, and your strategy is a guaranteed suicide pact."
"Do not insult my Master!" Tang San snapped, his calm facade finally cracking. His jade-white hands curled into tight fists, and his Purple Demon Eye flared. To Tang San, insulting Yu Xiaogang was an unforgivable sin, a direct attack on his entire worldview. "If you are too arrogant to follow a proven tactical formation—"
"If you are going to act like a child and throw a tantrum over imaginary authority," Mame cut him off smoothly, completely ignoring the glowing purple eyes, "then I have no interest in playing your little game."
Mame turned his back on the furious Tang Sect genius, dismissing him entirely. He looked across the dirt clearing at the massive Vice Dean, who was watching the argument with an amused, toothy grin.
"Vice Dean Zhao," Mame called out, his voice ringing clearly across the field.
"Yeah, rich boy? You kids figure out who the boss is yet?" Zhao Wuji chuckled, leaning against a wooden post.
"I request a modification to the exam parameters," Mame stated, his aristocratic posture perfect, but his pitch-black eyes gleaming with the predatory thrill of the Saiyan hiding beneath the silk. "I will not share a battlefield with a hypocrite who needs a textbook's permission to throw a punch. I will take your test alone."
The clearing went dead silent.
Ning Rongrong gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Zhu Zhuqing's cold eyes widened in genuine shock. Xiao Wu just whimpered, taking another step backward, her beast instincts screaming that the sleeping dragon had just opened its eyes.
Tang San stared at Mame's back, utterly bewildered by the sheer, suicidal arrogance of the request. He wants to fight a Rank 76 Spirit Sage alone? He's only Rank 31! Even with his impossible rings, the difference in sheer soul power is an ocean!
Zhao Wuji stopped leaning against the post. The amused grin slowly vanished from his scarred face, replaced by the heavy, dangerous scowl of a veteran warrior. He looked at the silver-robed boy, searching for a hint of fear or a bluff. He found absolutely nothing but bottomless, abyssal confidence.
"Alone?" Zhao Wuji rumbled, the earth beneath his boots literally cracking from the sudden surge of his bear-like aura. "Kid... I don't care how much gold you have, or how pretty your clothes are. If you fight me alone, I won't hold back just to save your life. You're asking for a beating that could cripple you."
Mame smiled. It wasn't the polite, mocking smile of Young Master Bai. It was the feral, blood-pumping grin of Mame, the Apex Hybrid.
"I am asking you to try," Mame challenged quietly.
Chapter 22: The Qualifications of a Hypocrite (Continued)
"I am asking you to try," Mame challenged quietly.
For a fraction of a second, the immaculate, aristocratic facade of Young Master Bai slipped, revealing the terrifying, battle-hungry Saiyan underneath. Mame offered a feral, predatory smile that made the hair on Zhao Wuji's massive arms stand straight up.
"And Vice Dean," Mame added, his voice dropping into a thrilling, metallic resonance. "I sincerely hope you don't hold back. If you treat me like a fragile student, it won't be entertaining at all."
Zhao Wuji stared at the boy, his bear instincts roaring at him to summon his Martial Soul immediately. A massive, booming laugh suddenly erupted from his chest, shaking the dirt off the nearby rooftops. "Arrogant! Unbelievably arrogant! Fine, rich boy. If you want a one-on-one beating, I'll happily provide it."
Mame's feral smile vanished, instantly replaced by his cool, cultured aristocratic mask. He turned back to the seething Tang San and the terrified girls.
"However," Mame said smoothly, gracefully gesturing toward the open dirt field. "I require no time for strategy. And I would hate to deprive our self-appointed 'leader' of the chance to apply his brilliant textbook theories. I will go second. Show me exactly how a 'trash spirit' controls a Spirit Sage."
Without another word, Mame casually walked back to his summoned crimson velvet armchair, sat down, and elegantly crossed his legs. He was giving them the stage, completely removing himself as a variable.
Tang San's fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. The utter dismissal burned worse than a physical strike. He took a deep, steadying breath, forcing his hypocritical rage down to focus on the battle. He turned to Xiao Wu, Ning Rongrong, and Zhu Zhuqing.
"We stick to the plan," Tang San commanded, his voice cold and analytical. "Rongrong, support. Zhuqing, flank. Xiao Wu, vanguard. I will control him."
The incense stick began to burn.
The original timeline played out exactly as Mame remembered, like a perfectly choreographed tragedy.
"Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda!" Ning Rongrong chanted, her hands flashing with brilliant, multicolored light as the legendary support spirit materialized, instantly buffing Tang San, Xiao Wu, and Zhu Zhuqing with speed and power enhancements.
Tang San's hands glowed like white jade. Dozens of thick, vine-like Blue Silver Grass stalks erupted from the earth, shooting toward the massive Vice Dean to bind his limbs and restrict his movements. Following the grass, Xiao Wu launched herself into the air, her long legs aiming for Zhao Wuji's neck to execute her Soft Bone Demon Rabbit throws.
From the shadows, the Hell Civet struck. Zhu Zhuqing became a blur of black leather and cold intent, her sharp claws aiming directly for the Spirit Sage's blind spots.
For about ten seconds, Tang San's strategy looked flawless.
Sitting in his velvet armchair, Mame didn't even blink. He just waited for the reality check.
"Not bad, little monsters!" Zhao Wuji roared.
The Vice Dean didn't even bother dodging. He simply flexed. A blinding, golden-brown aura erupted from his body as the Vigorous Vajra Bear possessed him. Seven spirit rings flared to life.
The supposedly unbreakable Blue Silver Grass shattered into a million useless green fragments the second Zhao Wuji expanded his chest. Tang San let out a sharp gasp as his control was violently broken. Xiao Wu's kicks landed squarely on the bear's shoulders, but instead of throwing him, it looked like she was trying to wrestle a mountain. Zhao Wuji merely shrugged, sending her flying backward.
Seeing the vanguard break, Zhu Zhuqing didn't retreat. Her feline instincts drove her forward, her razor-sharp claws slicing toward Zhao Wuji's flank in a desperate bid to buy Tang San time to recover.
"Too light!" Zhao Wuji grunted.
He didn't strike her directly; he just stomped his massive foot and let out a fraction of his Vigorous Vajra Roar.
The kinetic shockwave was devastating. It slammed into Zhu Zhuqing mid-air like a solid wall of iron. Her black aura instantly shattered. She let out a choked gasp as the concussive force violently scrambled the spirit power in her meridians, launching her backward like a broken doll. She was hurtling toward the hard-packed dirt at bone-snapping speed, a thin trail of blood escaping the corner of her pale lips.
Tang San yelled her name, desperately trying to summon more Blue Silver Grass to catch her, but his hands were too slow. The "leader" had completely lost control of the battlefield.
Dimensional Blink.
The crimson velvet armchair was suddenly empty.
Before Zhu Zhuqing could crash into the unforgiving earth, the space behind her folded. Strong, impeccably tailored arms wrapped securely around her waist and shoulders, catching her out of the air with zero residual impact.
Zhu Zhuqing's eyes fluttered open, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe through the chaotic, violent storm of spirit power tearing through her veins. She looked up and saw the pristine silver-white silk of Mame's robes, his wild dark hair blowing in the wind of the shockwave.
He had caught her so smoothly it felt like landing on a cloud.
"Breathe," Mame commanded gently. His voice completely lacked the mocking arrogance he had aimed at Tang San.
He didn't wait for her to process what was happening. Mame channeled a microscopic fraction of his Cosmic Origin Core directly into his palms. He didn't use his fiery Sun-Ape Ki; he used the absolute, stabilizing gravity of a Singularity. The neutral, incredibly dense energy flooded into Zhu Zhuqing's back.
It acted like an anchor in a hurricane. Within a fraction of a second, the violently chaotic spirit power rampaging through her meridians was instantly suppressed, calmed, and forced back into its natural flow.
The agonizing pain in Zhu Zhuqing's chest vanished. The blood stopped rising in her throat. She stared up at Mame's pitch-black eyes in absolute, stunned silence. The sheer, overwhelming depth of the energy he had just used to casually stabilize her was terrifying, yet incredibly warm.
Mame gently set her down on her feet, ensuring she had her balance before he took a half-step back, his hands returning to clasp behind his back.
He slowly turned his head, his abyssal eyes locking onto Tang San, who was standing frozen in the dirt, completely outmaneuvered and utterly failing to protect his team.
"A brilliant strategy, 'Leader'," Mame said, his voice dripping with icy, aristocratic disdain. "Your Master must be so proud of how efficiently you led your vanguard into a brick wall."