I woke up with a jolt.

  My body felt stiff, not from soreness, but because I was wrapped tightly in layers of binding cloth. Talismans were attached all over them, faintly glowing with restrained qi. For a split second, I wondered if I had been captured by some hostile sect, but then memory rushed back in an unhelpful flood.

  The hot spring.

  The moonlight.

  Meng Rong staring at me like I had personally offended the heavens.

  A sudden thought struck me, sharp enough to hurt. If she was supposedly clueless about those… kinds of things… then why was she so self-conscious to begin with?

  My last clear memory was me panicking, trying to flee, and very unfortunately proving that I was, in fact, a walking weapon of mass destruction below the waist. I did not make it far. Some spell smacked me cleanly, and the world went black.

  Now I was lying on a bed.

  Beside me, Meng Rong was asleep.

  She stirred almost at the same time I did, her breathing changing as her eyes slowly opened. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was heavy, awkward, and filled with unspoken accusations.

  I broke it first.

  “You’re pretending you don’t know where babies come from, right?”

  Her eyes flickered. Just barely.

  That was all the confirmation I needed. I knew it. I absolutely knew it. This woman had been playing me the entire time. Foxy, deceptive, terrifyingly composed Meng Rong. I thought I had gained a straightforward ally, but no… this was emotional warfare.

  What was her problem anyway? If she was this aware of the opposite sex, then that embarrassment earlier suddenly made a lot more sense. This was the same woman who had told me to take off my clothes for inspection, rewrote the Binding Vow on the spot, and then casually declared I would be living with her in front of Teng Wen.

  I exhaled slowly, trying not to raise my voice. “Do you have any idea how badly you screwed up?”

  She closed her eyes and replied calmly, “Yes.”

  That answer almost hurt more than denial.

  “You need to clear the misunderstanding with Teng Wen,” I said flatly.

  She opened her eyes again, genuinely confused. “What misunderstanding?”

  I stared at her. Really stared. Somehow, she was self-conscious enough to knock me out over a bath, but still completely oblivious to the social nuclear bomb she had dropped last night.

  “I think,” I said carefully, “he believes we’re in some kind of relationship.”

  She tilted her head. “What kind of relationship?”

  I was done. Completely done. I might have underestimated her purity and overestimated it at the same time, which was an impressive feat in its own right. If social awareness had levels, she was somehow both a grade schooler and a sheltered immortal elder.

  “I give up,” I said, closing my eyes. “Just let me go do my job. The faster I can go home, the better.”

  She stood up without another word and walked toward the door. “Your clothes are on the cabinet to your right,” she added calmly. “Also, I do know how procreation works. I was teasing you.”

  I froze.

  She continued, as if discussing the weather, “Babies are made by hatching from an egg the mother bears after the mother and father do the deed.”

  I questioned my entire existence. It was a xianxia world, so… she might be onto something.

  “How does pregnancy work, then?” I asked weakly. “What is the deed?”

  She looked at me like I had just insulted her intelligence. “Do you really think I’m a fool? Of course it’s when the man touches the chest of the woman.” She paused, then added reassuringly, “Don’t worry. I’m not pregnant. We’re not married after all.”

  That explained absolutely nothing.

  When she left, the binding cloth finally loosened on its own, the talismans losing their glow as if their job had been completed. I sat up slowly and peeled the layers off myself, half-expecting something else to go wrong, but nothing did. My body felt light, almost refreshed. I changed into my clothes and noticed they had been recently washed, the fabric still carrying a faint, clean scent. Even the bruises and soreness from the past four days of relentless training were gone, as if they had never existed.

  I checked my system interface and didn’t hesitate. Whatever points needed to be spent, I spent them. There was no reason to hoard resources when the next hurdle was already waiting right outside.

  [NAME: YAKUZA MAN]

  [LEVEL: 230]

  Health: 100%

  Energy: 100%

  Awesomeness: 79 + 15

  Swiftness: 52 + 10

  Toughness: 52 + 10

  Life Token: 2 / 3

  I exhaled slowly and rolled my shoulders. I already felt better. Maybe it was the stat increase, maybe it was just the illusion of control returning to me. Either way, I decided to focus on the positives. There was no point stressing over things completely out of my hands. Fate had clearly decided to have a personal vendetta against me the moment I got dragged into this world, stuffed into Yakuza Man’s body, and tossed into a cultivation setting.

  I opened the door.

  Meng Rong was standing just outside, as if she had been waiting the entire time. She turned to me and said calmly, “We should go. The preparations should be over at this point.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Preparations?” I echoed.

  “You’ll know when you see,” she replied, already turning away.

  I followed her out of the lord’s residence, and the moment we stepped onto the main road, I understood exactly what she meant. The entire street was buzzing with energy, and not the qi kind. There were stalls lining both sides, people shouting over one another, laughter and chatter filling the air. It felt less like the prelude to a serious duel and more like a festival.

  Then I saw it.

  Little dolls.

  Dolls made in my likeness.

  I stopped walking for a second, staring as my brain struggled to catch up. Someone had captured my sunglasses and ridiculous outfit a little too accurately for comfort.

  “Make your bets! Make your bets!” a loud voice shouted nearby. “Who will win victorious, the local hero Yakuza Man or the master cultivator of the Boulder Path Sect! Come, come, make your bets!”

  I winced, rubbing my temple. This was getting out of hand.

  “Oh my,” said Meng Rong lightly, “it looks like we have a celebrity in our midst.”

  We reached the plaza, the same wide-open space where I had dueled Huang Yong not long ago. The difference was immediately obvious. The old tree that once stood at the center was gone, hastily transplanted to the side as if someone had decided that nature was inconvenient for today’s spectacle. In its place was a cleared arena of packed earth, smooth and wide, deliberately shaped to favor combat rather than scenery.

  A table had been set up at one corner of the plaza. Meng Rong left my side without a word and took her seat there, accompanied by the Chief Constable and Zhu Shufen.

  I drew a slow breath and walked toward the arena, the noise of the crowd dulling into a distant hum as I stepped into the center.

  Dong Li was already there, waiting for me.

  A faint glow hovered above his head, clear to my senses now in a way it hadn’t been before.

  [Level 255]

  Just seeing the number made my heartbeat quicken, but I forced myself to remain steady. Standing between us was a familiar figure. Yao Yazhu of the Phantasm Star Sect stepped forward, his expression stern and his presence sharp enough to cut through the chatter around us.

  “My name is Yao Yazhu of the Phantasm Star Sect,” he announced, his voice carrying effortlessly across the plaza. “I will be acting as the overseer of this bout. I will not tolerate any tricks. There will be severe consequences if I detect any form of cheating, including but not limited to poisoning your opponent beforehand, ingesting pills that dramatically increase one’s strength, or casting spells in advance before the match.”

  I swallowed.

  I was almost certain that entire sentence was aimed directly at me.

  Yao Yazhu continued without pause, “Any weapon, regardless of grade, is permitted for both parties. Consumable items such as pills, talismans, and hidden weapons are strictly forbidden. This spar has been permitted by the state and is witnessed by my sect as a neutral third party to enforce the prior arrangement. Should prospect Yakuza Man lose, he will join the Boulder Path Sect—”

  “Objection.”

  The word left my mouth before I had time to second-guess it. A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd. Yao Yazhu and Dong Li both turned their attention to me, their gazes sharp enough to make my skin prickle.

  For a brief moment, my nerves threatened to get the better of me. The crowd was larger than it had been during my duel with Huang Yong, and the pressure was suffocating. I took another breath and reminded myself that I wasn’t the same person I had been back then. I had grown, and more importantly, I wasn’t alone.

  “I seek a reevaluation of this assessment,” I said clearly, projecting my voice as best I could. “This spar was arranged under coercion. I was effectively forced into the condition of joining the Boulder Path Sect.”

  Dong Li’s expression hardened. “Watch your words, junior,” he warned coldly. “Are you slandering my sect?”

  His threat might have worked on someone else, but it fell flat here. The people of Xincheng weren’t cultivators, but they weren’t blind either.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “To think the spider demon slayer was forced into something like that.”

  “Shh… that’s a cultivation sect.”

  “Aren’t you scared for them?”

  “They’re from another domain, aren’t they?”

  The murmurs grew louder, and I felt a strange sense of relief wash over me. The public sentiment was on my side, and in this place, that mattered more than brute strength alone. Righteous sects thrived on reputation and moral authority. Without the support of the common people, their legitimacy would rot from the inside out. The books I had read in the Pine Wind Book Hall hadn’t been for nothing.

  I pressed the advantage while I still could.

  “How about this,” I said, my tone firm. “We change the terms. If you win, you can take me with you. If I win, you compensate me in spirit coins.”

  The silence that followed was heavy.

  They weren’t fools. Cultivators had ways of sensing strength, and they could surely tell that something about me had changed. My presence was different from a month ago, heavier, sharper, and harder to ignore. Whatever they were feeling, I could see it reflected in their eyes.

  And that alone told me I had done the right thing.

  “What do you think?” Yao Yazhu asked, turning his head slightly toward Dong Li.

  Dong Li stared at me for a long moment, his brows knitting together as if he were reassessing something he thought he had already figured out. Then he let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “You sure have guts, kid…”

  Money would never hurt. Spirit coins were always useful, whether for cultivation resources, information, or buying goodwill. That was precisely why I had left the number blank. I wanted them to fill it in themselves. Over the past month, I had learned one important thing about cultivators: arrogance was not a flaw, it was a survival mechanism. Their power placed them above others, and to maintain that position, they had to remain aloof and untouchable. Once their mystique cracked, everything else followed.

  If that “high position” was shaken, they would scramble desperately to restore it, even if it meant overcompensating elsewhere. Huang Yong had fled precisely because of that. His dignity had been shattered, and staying would only deepen the wound.

  If I beat Dong Li here, I would earn big. If I crushed him decisively, with flair and control, I would earn even more.

  I was twenty-five levels lower than him, but I had no intention of giving him even a second to breathe.

  “You have a deal,” Dong Li finally said, a smile spreading across his face. It wasn’t the smile of someone conceding ground, but of a man convinced that the outcome was already decided.

  Yao Yazhu nodded. “With me as witness, I shall enforce the wager between both parties. The rules are simple. Stepping off the arena results in a loss. Voluntarily leaving the arena counts as forfeiture. Knocking your opponent unconscious counts as victory. Forcing a submission also counts as victory. Killing is prohibited. I will intervene if a threat to life is observed.”

  He raised his voice. “Now, both fighters, introduce yourselves.”

  Dong Li reached into his storage ring and pulled out a massive blade, nearly as wide as my torso. The heavy weapon landed in his grip with practiced ease. I followed suit. I reached inside my white suit jacket and casually drew out my bat, as if performing a street trick. Honestly, I should ask Meng Rong for a fake storage artifact one day, if only for appearances.

  I rested the bat against my shoulder, feeling its familiar weight.

  Yao Yazhu stepped back. “Fight.”

  I didn’t hesitate. The moment the word left his mouth, I rushed forward, my feet digging into the ground as I swung my bat in a wide arc. “Senior, please allow me to make the first strike!”

  It was shameless, but I didn’t care. I just wanted this over with.

  “Come,” Dong Li replied, his grin turning bloodthirsty.

  I poured eighty percent of my [Energy] into the strike, my muscles screaming as I unleashed the technique. “Tyrant’s Path!”

  The bat collided with his blade in a deafening crash. The force exploded outward, and Dong Li’s eyes widened in genuine shock as his feet left the ground. His body was hurled backward, skidding through the air toward the edge of the arena.

  At the last possible moment, he slammed his blade into the ground, sparks flying as the metal bit into stone. Using sheer strength, he dragged himself down, planting his feet just before crossing the boundary.

  He straightened slowly, laughter bubbling up from his chest.

  “That was close,” Dong Li said, his grin widening as excitement lit his eyes. “Yakuza Man, have you been faking your strength this whole time? This is too much! Hahahahahaha!”

  The crowd erupted, and I tightened my grip on the bat.

  "Nah, I’m just a genius… or something.”