After a few days of the same monotonous cycle—going to work, returning to my room, cultivating to my limit, and then resting my body—I reminded myself of one harsh truth: there was no soul cultivation in this world. Without a way to strengthen the soul, there was no method to increase my cultivation time either, since the aperture was an organ, and damaging it was out of the question.
If I wanted to speed up my cultivation, I needed to increase my luck. Fortunately, I had gotten off to a good start. Obtaining a luck-inducing ring and surviving two victorious fate battles was already a big achievement for a newcomer. My red luck was thicker than most at this stage.
On the tenth day, after some light hunting, I headed to the reward hall in the mission hall. There, I met the seller. The skill scroll still hadn't been sold—likely because I was the only one from another world who recognized its true value.
I offered him my 90 contribution points, but he stubbornly insisted on 100. He was younger and far less experienced than me, so it was easy to sway him. With his youthful appearance, I calmly said, "I came here because I need a skill I can use right away. With some extra work or a risky quest, I'll soon be able to afford an even better one."
In a normal situation, he might have realized how desperately I needed it. But he seemed eager to sell it immediately. How much he wanted wasn't my main concern—in a sense, I was helping him by taking the scroll off his hands. My words applied just enough pressure, and he finally agreed to sell it to me for 90 contribution points.
In this world, there were two ways to learn a skill from a scroll: slowly comprehending its structure, or tearing it apart to instantly gain the skill, since the scroll would cease to exist afterward.
I tore the scroll right in front of him. I didn't want him spreading rumors that "Bayley" had bought a magic scroll. The last thing I needed was someone waiting to ambush and steal it from me later.
The moment I tore it, a clear sound rang in my mind:
You have acquired [Illusion Weave]!
Effect: This skill allows you to make one part of your body feel like an illusion during movement.
Nobody had bought this seemingly overpowered skill because no matter how you swung a sword, experienced fighters could usually guess its initial position and calculate the weapon's trajectory.
Those who thought trading in public was foolish were right. I needed this deal to stay completely private. Now, the lie about my second skill being a "swap" could become real with the help of [Illusion Weave]. No one would know I had purchased this scroll. Of course, the seller might try to sell the information for money, but knowing someone has a skill scroll and confirming they actually possess the skill were two very different things. In the long run, careless rumors would only leave him as cannon fodder. It was a complete win for me.
I bought it in the morning on purpose—to secure it before anyone else could, and more importantly, because the time had finally come to explore the surroundings.
I went to the mission hall on the quest floor, accepted a nearby exploration quest, and obtained a permit to leave the walls. Naturally, I exited through the western gates. I greeted my good friend Jack with a short chat, then bid him farewell and waited until I was completely out of his sight.
Now free, I could finally run wild across the vast plains near the forest.
I soon discovered that this plain was surprisingly spacious and had not yet been fully devoured by the Wen Clan. Although it required patience, one could not afford to act like a turtle forever. I needed to fight beasts of my own rank to avoid falling behind my peers in combat skill.
I first scouted the south side. The other three directions had already been heavily hunted, so beasts rarely appeared near the plains there. I had avoided heading south earlier because of the risk of high-level beast rampages. Even if it was unlikely, it was better to be safe than sorry.
As expected, the southern plains were peaceful and calm. I needed to hunt some beasts before any storm arrived. First, I set up numerous traps using sound-luring materials I had bought from the reward hall. I had no intention of wasting stamina by running around endlessly.
Then the real hunt began.
A low growl echoed from the tall grass as a mid-tier Ironhide Boar charged toward me, its razor-sharp tusks gleaming under the sun. I activated Shadow Jump, vanishing from my spot and reappearing behind it in a flicker of darkness. Before it could turn, I infused my arm with Illusion Weave. My swinging fist appeared to strike from the left, but in reality, it slammed into the boar's side from the right with full force. The beast roared in confusion as its body twisted unnaturally, unable to predict my true movement.
The illusion worked perfectly. While it thrashed wildly, I followed up with a precise strike to its vital point, ending the fight in seconds.
Not long after, a high-tier Shadow Panther stalked me from the trees, its sleek black form blending with the surroundings. It lunged with terrifying speed, claws extended. I dodged at the last moment and triggered Illusion Weave on my leg. My kick seemed slow and telegraphed, yet the panther misjudged the distance and timing completely. My real strike connected with its jaw, sending it crashing into the ground. A second Shadow Jump brought me above it, and I finished the beast with a decisive blow before it could recover.
Beast after beast fell to the deadly combination. The traps I had set earlier drew in more prey, their desperate roars and struggles only adding to the thrill. Mid-tier wolves, high-tier scaled lizards, and even a few aggressive avian-type beasts were all dispatched with ease. My movements became sharper, my instincts keener with every kill.
Though I enjoyed the killing of many, many, and many living beings—oh sorry, beasts—the enjoyment came from how each fight increased my experience of the wild and honed my combat skills.