The setting sun hung low over the horizon, casting a blood-red hue across the skyline of Aolai City. Near the harbor, the dying light filtered into an abandoned, rusting warehouse, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the stagnant air.
The heavy iron doors stood wide open, unable to hide the chaotic scene within. From the shadows came the sounds of a scuffle—the dull thud of fists hitting flesh, the scuffling of shoes on concrete, and the breathless cursing of young boys.
In the center of the warehouse, a group of about twenty children, all roughly eight or nine years old, were caught in a tangled brawl. Their faces were painted with bruises and swelling, and their clothes were covered in dust and grime. Despite their injuries, each boy tried desperately to maintain a fierce, intimidating expression. In this childish arena, showing fear was the ultimate defeat in their "duel of men."
The cause of this chaos was absurdly simple. Standing to the side, watching the violence with a look of smug satisfaction, was Xiao Mei, the self-proclaimed beauty of their class.
She had made a declaration earlier that day: "Whoever is the strongest, I'll be with them!"
That single sentence had turned these children, who should have been playing tag or hide-and-seek, into a pack of wild animals fighting for a vague, immature concept of "love." It was difficult to tell if this behavior was due to the natural precociousness of the inhabitants of the Douluo Continent or simply because the elementary academy's curriculum lacked any meaningful guidance on human relationships. Regardless of the era, the urge for young boys to show off for a girl seemed to be an unchangeable law of nature.
The fight was messy. There were no Spirit Skills or mystical techniques here. These children had not yet begun their true cultivation journeys. It was raw, ugly street fighting—tearing at clothes, pulling hair, biting ears, and throwing clumsy punches.
Eventually, the chaos subsided. Zhang Tie, a sturdy boy who had been biding his time in the corner, finally made his move. He stepped over the groaning bodies of his classmates, blood streaming from his nose down to his chin.
He wiped his face and grinned triumphantly. "I won! Xiao Mei is mine!"
Xiao Mei beamed, basking in the attention. In her mind, her charm was absolute; after all, she had incited a war among the boys. She tilted her chin up, preparing to step forward and graciously accept the victor's confession.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A heavy, rhythmic sound echoed from the entrance of the warehouse, instantly silencing the celebration. It was the sound of footsteps—slow, deliberate, and heavy.
Everyone froze, turning their heads toward the open doors.
A tall figure stepped into the warehouse, blocking the fading sunlight. Backlit by the crimson dusk, his silhouette appeared sharp and imposing, like a dormant beast waking from its slumber. As he stepped further into the dim light, his features became clear.
It was Situ Xuan.
Despite being the same age as the others, he stood nearly 1.7 meters tall, towering a full head above everyone else. His shoulders were broad, and his muscles were defined and taut, lacking the softness of childhood. He didn't look like an eight-year-old; he looked like a miniature war machine.
He was the "Monster" of Aolai Junior Academy. He was an anomaly who shunned social interaction, ignored games, and cared only for physical training and the pursuit of strength. However, the heavens were fair; this disciplined monster possessed a trash aptitude. With only Rank 3 Innate Spirit Power, his future as a Spirit Master was widely considered to be hopeless.
The warehouse fell into a deathly silence. The air grew heavy with tension.
Zhang Tie frowned, his earlier victory forgotten. "What are you here for, Situ Xuan?"
Situ Xuan didn't answer. He didn't even look at Zhang Tie. His indifferent gaze swept across the room, scanning the defeated boys before finally locking onto Xiao Mei.
Xiao Mei's heart skipped a beat. Her face flushed red. Is he... is he here for me too?
The thought made her giddy. The strongest, most mysterious boy in school had come to challenge the winner for her sake? She curled her lips into her sweetest, most practiced smile, waiting for him to speak.
Situ Xuan withdrew his gaze, his expression remaining as cold as stone. He cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet space.
"I'm here to fight," he said, his voice low and devoid of emotion.
The next second, the air exploded with motion.
"Get him!" Zhang Tie roared, lunging forward.
He was the first to attack, but he was also the first to fall. Before Zhang Tie could even close the distance, Situ Xuan pivoted. A whip-like side kick slammed into Zhang Tie's ribs with terrifying speed.
Bang!
Zhang Tie was launched backward, flying three meters through the air before crashing into the dusty floor. He curled into a ball, gasping for air, unable to stand.
Seeing their temporary leader fall, the other boys roared in a mixture of fear and adrenaline, swarming Situ Xuan all at once. But numbers meant nothing against precision.
Situ Xuan moved like a wolf among sheep. He didn't waste a single movement. Every punch found a gap in their defenses; every kick struck a pressure point or a joint. He was a precision combat machine, weaving through the crowd with startling speed. Despite the violence, he controlled his strength perfectly, inflicting pain that incapacitated them without causing permanent injury.
In less than two minutes, the brawl was over.
The warehouse was filled with the sounds of wailing and groaning. Twenty boys lay on the ground, clutching their stomachs or nursing bruised faces.
Only Situ Xuan remained standing. His breathing was barely elevated.
Xiao Mei stood frozen, her eyes wide. First came shock, then a surge of overwhelming excitement. He had defeated everyone! He had crushed twenty boys single-handedly! Surely, this display of dominance was his way of proving his worth to her.
Her cheeks burned with delight as she jogged over to him, her voice dripping with affection. "Situ Xuan, you were amazing! I didn't know you cared so..."
Slap!
The sound was crisp and loud.
A merciless backhand struck Xiao Mei across the face, cutting off her words instantly.
The force of the blow sent her stumbling backward until she fell hard onto her bottom. She touched her stinging cheek, her eyes filling with tears of shock and humiliation. "You... what are you doing?!" she screamed, her voice trembling.
Situ Xuan looked down at her, his eyes cold and empty of any affection.
"You were in the way," he said simply.
He didn't spare her another glance. He turned around and walked toward the exit, stepping over the groaning bodies of his classmates as if they were mere debris. To him, the fight hadn't been about love, glory, or status.
It was just practice.
As he stepped out into the dying light, leaving the humiliated girl and the beaten boys behind, a whisper escaped his lips, a mantra known only to him.
"Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne."
Night fell, and with it came the rain.
It fell silently over the outskirts of Aolai City, soaking the blue-gray stone streets. The city was not particularly wealthy. The buildings here were low, old, and worn by time. Occasionally, the silence was broken by the hum of a passing Soul Guidance car, its headlights sweeping across the wet pavement and illuminating the broken reflections in the puddles.
Situ Xuan walked through the rain without an umbrella.
The cold water soaked his hair and ran down his neck, chilling him to the bone, but he didn't mind. He enjoyed the rain. It washed away the noise of the world and the distracting thoughts in his mind. It allowed him to focus on the suffocating reality of his life.
At nearly 1.7 meters tall, his physical body was a vessel of immense potential, yet it was shackled by the laws of this world. He could feel the irony in every step.
"As long as I am strong enough, I can control my own destiny."
That was the vow he had made when he died in his previous world. He had been reborn here with his memories intact, determined to rise to the top. But reality was cruel. He possessed no twin Spirits, no heaven-defying innate full Spirit Power. He was just an ordinary student with Rank 3 talent.
In the world of Spirit Masters, talent was often the absolute ceiling. Many with his aptitude would never break through Rank 40 in their entire lives.
Ridiculous.
Situ Xuan tilted his head back, letting the rain blur his vision. The streetlights turned into hazy orbs of light. For a moment, he stopped thinking about cultivation, levels, and the insurmountable gap between him and the geniuses of the continent.
But the rain could not last forever.
Eventually, the downpour slowed to a drizzle, and then to a stop. The only sound remaining was the rhythmic dripping of water from the eaves of the buildings.
Situ Xuan stopped at a corner. In the distance, an old, three-story house stood alone in the dark. It was his home.
He had no parents. No relatives. He was alone in this world.
He stood before the door, water pooling around his feet. A self-mocking smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Is that enough escaping?" he whispered to the empty street.
The rain had stopped. The brief moment of peace was over. He was Situ Xuan, and whether he had talent or not, he refused to yield to fate.
He took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped into the darkness.
The house was quiet, filled with the damp chill of the night. The only sound was the ticking of an old mechanical clock on the wall, marking the passage of time like a silent countdown.
Situ Xuan didn't turn on the lights. He moved to the center of the living room and sat down cross-legged.
He had removed his wet coat, wearing only a thin black training suit. His expression was solemn, his earlier melancholy replaced by intense focus.
Today was crucial.
He had been stuck at Rank 9 Spirit Power for what felt like an eternity. He had meditated countless times, repeating the dull, repetitive cycle until he felt like he was going insane. But recently, he had felt a shift—a looseness in the bottleneck that held him back.
He closed his eyes, placing his hands on his knees, palms facing upward.
Inhale. Exhale.
His breathing slowed, becoming long and rhythmic. He turned his attention inward, searching for the flow of Spirit Power within him. It was the most mysterious force in the world, yet in his body, it was pitifully weak.
He guided the thin strands of energy through his meridians. He could feel the external energy of the world being slowly, painfully absorbed into his pores. It gathered in his chest, a warm current that he desperately tried to compress and refine.
The efficiency was terrible. The "Basic Meditation Method" taught by the Sun Moon Federation's public academies was a mass-produced technique intended for the common populace. It was safe, but its conversion rate was abysmal.
Situ Xuan had no other choice. He had to squeeze every drop of potential out of this inferior technique.
He waited patiently. He visualized the energy accumulating, drop by drop, condensing it into the vortex of Spirit Power within his dantian.
It was slow work. But it was working.
The vortex began to vibrate. The energy grew denser, pushing against the invisible barrier that separated a Spirit Scholar from a true Spirit Master.
Almost there.
He tensed his body, his will clamping down on the energy. He forced it to spin faster, to grow hotter.
Outside the window, the clouds parted, and cold moonlight spilled into the room, illuminating his determined face.
Suddenly, a sensation echoed deep within his body.
Pop!
It was soft, like a bubble bursting, but to Situ Xuan, it sounded like a thunderclap. The resistance vanished. The energy that had been stagnant suddenly surged forward, flowing smoothly and filling his limbs with a newfound strength.
Situ Xuan snapped his eyes open. A rare look of pure joy broke through his stoic mask.
Rank 10 Spirit Power.
He had finally done it. He had reached the threshold. Now, he was qualified to enter the Spirit Pagoda, obtain a random Soul Spirit, and officially step onto the path of a Spirit Master.