I lay on the bed, which was basically just a slab of wood with a blanket that smelled like lavender and regret and stared at my System interface.
[Level: 5]
[Mana: 210/250]
[New Skill Available: 'Arcane Ward' or 'Minor Illusion']
"Definitely Arcane Ward," I muttered, tapping the virtual icon. "I'm not spending my first night in a world of flying assassins without a doorbell that shoots lightning."
The Spirit-Boar had been... okay. It tasted like pork but with a weird aftertaste that made my teeth tingle. Apparently, that was the "Spirit Qi" in the meat. To a cultivator, it was a delicacy. To me, it was just spicy carbon.
As I lay there, I thought about the "Ice Beauty" downstairs. Liu Rumei. She was a symptom of a larger problem. This entire world was stuck in a loop. A Young Master gets offended, a Great Elder seeks revenge, a Sect gets wiped out—rinse and repeat for five thousand years. It was a civilization with the power of gods and the emotional maturity of a middle-school Xbox Live party.
I needed a plan. I couldn't just wander around fireballing people forever. My mana was a finite resource, and eventually, some "Old Monster" who could blow up a mountain with a sneeze would take offense to my existence.
I needed a base. A place where the laws of the System overrode the laws of the Dao.
*Creak.*
The floorboard outside my door groaned. It was a faint sound, the kind you'd only hear if you weren't snoring like a chainsaw. My HUD instantly pulsed red.
[Detection: Three hostile entities outside the door.]
[Power Level: Level 8 to 10 'Qi Condensation' Disciples.]
"Of course," I whispered, sitting up. "They couldn't just wait until morning. They had to do the 'midnight interrogation' trope."
I didn't get up. I just waved my hand, spending 30 Mana to set up a 'Grease' spell right under the door, followed by a 'Static Field' trap.
"Brother, is he asleep?" a muffled voice whispered from the hallway.
"He is a mortal. He must be. No mortal can withstand the aura of Sister Liu without being exhausted," another voice replied. "We will take his spatial treasure and bring him to the sect for questioning. If he resists, break his legs."
"Why always the legs?" I called out, my voice loud and clear in the silent room. "Is there like a fetish for broken femurs in this sect, or are you guys just lackeys who can't think of a better threat?"
The silence that followed was heavy with confusion. Then, the door was kicked open.
"Die, you arrogant—"
The lead disciple didn't finish his sentence. His foot hit the 'Grease' spell. Now, 'Grease' in my system wasn't just slippery; it was magically frictionless. His legs flew out from under him like he'd stepped on a banana peel in a cartoon. He hit the floor hard, sliding forward—straight into the 'Static Field.'
*BZZZZT!*
The room lit up with blue sparks. The disciple let out a high-pitched yelp as 200 volts of arcane energy danced across his "immortal" skin.
The other two lackeys froze in the doorway, their swords half-drawn. They looked at their leader, who was currently twitching on the rug, then they looked at me. I was still sitting on the bed, propped up on one elbow, looking at them with pure, unadulterated boredom.
"Entry number eighteen," I said, checking my mental log. "The 'Sneak Attack That Fails Miserably.' You guys are really ticking all the boxes tonight."
"What... what sorcery is this?" the second disciple stammered, his sword trembling. "There is no Qi! I feel no fluctuations!"
"It's called physics, buddy. Combined with a little thing I like to call 'Get the hell out of my room.'"
I snapped my fingers. *Magic Missile.*
Three bolts of pure purple light streaked from my hand. They didn't miss—they were auto-targeted. Two hit the standing disciples in the chest, knocking the wind out of them and throwing them back into the hallway. The third hit the guy on the floor right in the butt, giving him the motivation he needed to scramble away.
I stood up, walked to the door, and looked at them as they groaned in the hallway.
"Go back to your Ice Queen," I said. "Tell her that if she wants to talk, she can use the front door like a normal person. If she sends any more 'test' squads, I'm going to start charging a consultation fee. And I don't take spirit stones—I take apologies."
I slammed the door and locked it. Not that the lock did anything, but it made me feel better.
[Quest Complete: Sleep Tight.]
[Reward: 100 Exp, 'Arcane Lock' spell unlocked.]
[Level Up! You are now Level 6.]
I sat back down. The Exp was good, but the realization was better. I had just officially declared war on a Major Sect because I wanted to sleep.
"I need a bigger fireball," I muttered, looking at my skill tree.
If I was going to survive this world, I couldn't just be a wizard. I had to be an entrepreneur. I needed to find a way to monetize these idiots' arrogance. Maybe I'd start by selling "Arrogance Insurance." Or maybe I'd just build a wall and make the Soaring Eagle Sect pay for it.
Either way, tomorrow, I was going to find a map. It was time to find a piece of land that didn't belong to a "Sovereign" and start building something that had a flushing toilet.
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