Leo’s mocking laughter echoed in the small room.
She stared at Zani as if he were a delusional country bumpkin.
But, instead of getting angry, Zani simply sighed.
“Leo,” Zani said, looking at the haughty girl with the deep, pitying gaze of an ancient sage.
“Even though you hail from an unfathomable background, it seems your knowledge of the martial path is still somewhat…
shallow.” “Shallow?!” Leo gasped, looking incredibly offended.
“Then please, Master, enlighten me.” “Listen closely,” Zani began, still sitting comfortably on the edge of his bed.
“In this world, Skin Tempering breathing manuals are rigidly divided into four tiers: Low, Medium, High, and Top.” “Low-Grade manuals only temper an isolated section of the body, such as the left hand or the right leg.
Medium-Grade manuals can temper entire limbs, like both arms or the entire torso.
High-Grade manuals are fiercely prized by top factions because they temper the entire body uniformly.” Zani paused, letting the profound weight of his words settle in the quiet room.
“But do you know the true logic behind the Dao?
To match the tempering of a Medium-Grade manual, a person must perfectly synthesize four different Low-Grade manuals.
Similarly, to achieve the absolute, flawless peak of skin tempering, one would need to perfectly combine the essence of four High-Grade manuals!
That compounding perfection…
is a Top-Grade manual.” Leo’s eyes widened slightly beneath her mask, drawn in by the impeccable logic of his explanation.
“Furthermore, the grades directly dictate a martial artist’s raw kinetic strength,” Zani continued, his voice ringing with absolute, undeniable authority.
“Regardless of the manual, progressing through a Skin Tempering stage generally grants an increase of 150 kilograms of force.
But the entry thresholds are vastly different.” Zani raised a finger for each point.
“Low-Grade: Entry at 100 kg, peaking at 250 kg.
Medium-Grade: Entry at 150 kg, peaking at 300 kg.
High-Grade: Entry at 200 kg, peaking at 350 kg.” Zani stopped, leaned forward, and looked directly into Leo’s eyes.
“But a Top-Grade manual?
The entry requirement alone is a terrifying 300 kilograms.
And the peak?
It violently shatters all established limits, granting a 200-kilogram increase and peaking at a monstrous 500 kilograms!” Listening to Zani effortlessly unravel the things that perhaps even her Immortal clan did not know, Leo was utterly dumbfounded.
“I…
I did not know that,” Leo finally murmured, staring at the jade-tinted book in her hands with entirely new reverence.
“It is only natural that you did not,” Zani said smoothly, offering a faint, mysterious smile.
“So, from this day forward, simply follow my guidance.
I will definitely lead us to the absolute apex of this world.” “Hmph!
I still do not believe you!” Leo stammered, her face flushing red behind her mask, as she abruptly opened the wooden door and marched out of the room.
“Oh, well,” Zani sighed to himself, amused by her childish retreat.
The hilarious reality is, everything he just told her was simply memorized from the System’s Skin Tempering Introduction Manual.
He himself did not even know if any of it was actually true!
Standing up, he picked up the Medicinal Cauldron recipe book from his side drawer and began meticulously memorizing the entire brewing process.
Time passed quickly.
By evening, the drugged mud boars finally woke up.
However, although Zani possessed the profound knowledge from the Slaughter City merchant, he had not yet mastered its physical application.
The bait had been slightly overdosed, leading to one of the weaker piglets dying in its sleep, while the others remained groggy for hours.
By the time the beasts were fully awake and raging against the pure iron fences, Zani had already hired two full-time caretakers.
One was a seasoned hunter, responsible for safely collecting nuts, specific herbs, and raw meat from the forest for the boars’ specialized diet.
The other was a mortal caretaker, responsible for cleaning the pen and staying in the courtyard all day to manage the beasts’ needs.
With a highly generous pay of 2 silver coins a month per person, many eager villagers had rushed to apply.
But surprisingly, it was the rugged woman hunter from Zani’s previous gathering who secured the positions.
Cashing in the guaranteed “favor” she held with the Gym, she bypassed the line entirely to secure both steady, safe jobs for herself and her teenage son.
As night approached, Zani sat alone on the roof of the main hall, a cool breeze rustling his robes.
“Hmm.
I am broke again,” Zani muttered.
A financial ledger and a warm cup of herbal brew were his only companions as dark, heavy clouds started forming in the sky above Big Wheat Village.
“Will it rain?” Zani mused, staring upward.
“Whatever.” Looking back down at his ledger, he traced the numbers with his finger.
“21 silver and 30 coppers.
That is all I have left after paying the hunters’ bounty and footing the bill for that massive banquet.
Even from this subtotal, 4 silver must be reserved for the first month’s salary of the two caretakers.” Although he spoke bitterly about the bleeding of his capital, there was nothing but happiness plastered across his face.
After a long, grueling stalemate, his faction had finally taken a massive step forward.
He now held the absolute key to the 1st Stage of the Martial Path.
DRIP.
DRIP.
It started raining, a steady, rhythmic downpour that lasted the entire night.
The next day, early in the morning, as the Iron Core Gym opened its grand iron doors to welcome the outer disciples for the first training session of the day, two prominent guests were already standing outside.
“Village Chief Sythe, remember, immediately after introducing me, you should excuse yourself,” Chaao instructed quietly, adjusting his premium silk robes.
“Yes, Brother Chaao,” Sythe nodded respectfully.
The old Chief did not entirely know what was going on, but acting as a middleman for the Mayor’s Manor was the absolute best opportunity for him to forge high-level connections with Chaao.
Meanwhile, Chaao was having a violent internal struggle on exactly how to approach this conversation.
Late last night, when he had reported to the Mayor that the Bandits might be planning a coordinated strike against the Gym, Mayor Salam had started brewing increasingly paranoid plans to protect the ‘hidden Immortal.’ Unable to take it anymore, Chaao had chosen to be honest.
He had boldly questioned the Mayor’s extreme decisions, pointing out that there was absolutely no solid evidence proving an Immortal expert actually existed behind Zani.
So why risk a full-scale war?
Instead of getting angry, Mayor Salam simply stared at him.
Since Chaao was doubting his political insight, the Mayor told him to go and investigate the Gym Master himself.
“Do as you please,” the Mayor had said, before practically kicking Chaao out of the office.
“Just be polite.
If you offend a true expert, I will sever your head myself.” Now, here Chaao was, sweating bullets on a cool morning, trying to uncover the truth by meeting the man himself.
After a few minutes, a junior disciple came to the gates and politely invited them inside.
Crossing through the heavy iron gates, they made their way across the grassy courtyard, which was still slick and wet from the night’s heavy downfall.
A short distance away, a wooden table was set with three chairs and a fresh pot of steaming tea.
Sitting at the head of the table was the unfathomable man he was here to interrogate.
“It is good to see you again, Village Chief Sythe,” Zani greeted, his tone measured and calm.
“Brother Zani, I hope you are well,” Sythe smiled, gesturing to his companion.
“Please meet Chaao, a very good brother of mine from the city.” After exchanging basic pleasantries and taking their seats, Sythe respectfully excused himself, leaving the gym exactly as instructed.
Now, as the two young men sat in silence, a heavy, incredibly awkward atmosphere descended over the table.
Finally, Zani decided to break the ice.
“So, Brother Chaao.
Are you a part of the Mayor’s Manor?” “Yes,” Chaao answered carefully.
“Are you here on the Mayor’s behalf, then?” “You could say that,” Chaao replied, his mind racing.
“But…
it is not entirely just that.” “Hmm.
Then what exactly is it?” Zani raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of his tea.
At this point, Chaao desperately wanted to just ask directly: Are you just a merchant or the puppet of an immortal?!
But, remembering the harsh lessons taught by Mayor Salam on how to talk in political circles to extract information, he began his careful interrogation.
“You see, Brother Zani,” Chaao started, leaning forward with a friendly smile, “when you first established this Gym, the Mayor liked your innovative ideas very much.
The Manor always tries to support up-and-coming businesses.” Right.
That support definitely happened when you deliberately used me as a political pawn against the Dojos, Zani thought cynically, keeping his face perfectly blank.
“So, we have quietly helped many factions in the past,” Chaao continued, “but we have never truly helped you, have we?
So tell me, Brother Zani…” Chaao paused, watching Zani’s eyes for any microscopic shift in emotion.
“…Is there anything you want?” _______________________________________