Night covered the mountains in silence.
Only the sound of heavy breathing echoed faintly through the frozen forest as Lin Yuan sat cross-legged atop a flat black stone near the cliffside.
Snow drifted slowly from the dark sky, landing upon his shoulders and hair before melting from the heat radiating off his body.
Invisible pressure distorted the surrounding air.
Crack.
Tiny fractures spread beneath the stone beneath him.
Lin Yuan’s face had already turned pale, yet his eyes remained firmly shut while spirit power circulated steadily through his meridians.
Five times gravity.
That was his current limit.
Perhaps more accurately— The current limit his body could endure without collapsing completely.
Pain spread through every muscle continuously as though countless iron needles were piercing directly into his flesh.
His bones groaned beneath the crushing weight while blood circulation slowed noticeably.
Even breathing required effort.
Yet Lin Yuan did not stop.
Instead, he slowly increased the pressure again.
Boom.
The invisible gravity around him suddenly intensified.
Fresh cracks spread across the black stone instantly.
Lin Yuan’s body trembled violently.
Blood seeped from the corner of his lips.
Six times.
The moment the pressure reached that threshold, horrifying pain exploded throughout his entire body.
His muscles spasmed uncontrollably while veins bulged visibly beneath his skin.
Lin Yuan gritted his teeth tightly.
He could feel it clearly.
His body was approaching its breaking point.
But at the same time— His spirit power circulation was becoming denser.
Sharper.
More stable.
That was the terrifying aspect of his ability.
The greater the pressure he endured, the faster his body adapted afterward.
Refinement through suffering.
A cultivation method bordering on madness.
Lin Yuan’s breathing gradually became uneven.
His consciousness began blurring slightly from pain.
Then suddenly— Footsteps echoed behind him.
“Still training?” The pressure around Lin Yuan vanished instantly.
He opened his eyes slowly and exhaled a long breath before turning around.
An old man wearing thick fur robes stood several meters away carrying a lantern in one hand.
Snow covered his shoulders while wrinkles lined his weathered face.
Old Chen.
The owner of the blacksmith workshop where Lin Yuan worked.
Lin Yuan wiped the blood from his lips casually.
“You shouldn’t climb the mountain this late.” Old Chen snorted.
“And let some stubborn brat freeze himself to death up here?” He walked closer before placing a small cloth bag beside Lin Yuan.
“Eat.” Lin Yuan glanced downward slightly.
Dried meat.
Simple food.
But in a poor town like this, meat was still valuable.
“You didn’t have to bring this.” Old Chen sat beside him heavily while rubbing warmth back into his hands.
“If I don’t feed you properly, who’ll keep working in my shop?” Lin Yuan smiled faintly.
The old man glanced sideways at him for a moment before speaking again.
“You’ve changed a lot these past few years.” Lin Yuan remained silent.
Old Chen continued quietly, “Children your age should be running around causing trouble, not sitting alone in mountains cultivating like some old monster.” Snow continued drifting silently between them.
After a while, Lin Yuan finally spoke.
“This world doesn’t leave much room for weak people.” Old Chen froze slightly.
Then he sighed.
“You sound older every year.” Lin Yuan lowered his gaze toward the snowy ground.
Older.
In some ways, perhaps he truly was.
He still remembered the confusion and fear from his first months in this world.
Back then, he had desperately tried convincing himself that this reality was temporary.
A dream.
A hallucination.
Anything except truth.
But reality never changed.
The Douluo Continent remained brutally real.
Lin Yuan remembered seeing starving children fighting over spoiled food near the town gates when he was only six.
He remembered spirit masters beating civilians without consequence.
He remembered how ordinary people lowered their heads instinctively whenever stronger figures passed nearby.
Soul Land had always sounded glorious while reading the novel.
But living inside it was entirely different.
Here, strength was survival.
Without strength, ideals meant nothing.
Old Chen suddenly spoke again.
“You’re planning to leave eventually, aren’t you?” Lin Yuan looked up slightly.
The old man stared quietly toward the distant mountains.
“This little town can’t hold someone like you forever.” For several seconds, only the cold wind answered.
Then Lin Yuan nodded slowly.
“Yes.” Old Chen laughed softly.
“I figured.” There was no disappointment in his voice.
Only understanding.
“You’re heading toward Spirit Master academies?” Lin Yuan remained silent briefly before answering.
“Eventually.” But not immediately.
He already had plans.
Plans no ordinary spirit master would even dare consider.
Slaughter City.
The thought alone caused Lin Yuan’s eyes to darken slightly.
Most people viewed that place as hell itself.
And they were correct.
Inside existed: murderers, fallen spirit masters, lunatics consumed by killing intent, and monsters wearing human skin.
But hidden beneath all that darkness was also opportunity.
The Asura inheritance.
Tang Chen.
And the path Lin Yuan intended to walk.
Old Chen suddenly frowned.
“What kind of expression is that?” Lin Yuan blinked before relaxing slightly.
“Nothing.” The old man shook his head helplessly.
“Whatever you’re thinking about, it probably isn’t something good.” Lin Yuan did not deny it.
Because Old Chen was right again.
The path he intended to take was dangerous enough that even titled Douluo feared it.
But Lin Yuan already understood something clearly.
If he wanted to change fate— If he wanted to save Tang Chen before the old man completely lost himself— Then ordinary cultivation speed would never be enough.
He needed strength faster than canon allowed.
And Slaughter City was the only place capable of forging monsters quickly enough.
Old Chen slowly stood up.
“Come back soon.
The mountain gets colder after midnight.” Lin Yuan nodded quietly.
The old man turned and began walking back down the snowy trail before suddenly stopping midway.
Without turning around, he asked: “Kid… why do you train this hard?” The question lingered in the cold night air.
Lin Yuan looked silently toward the distant sky.
Why?
Because he knew too much.
Because he remembered the future.
Because he had seen tragedies no one else yet understood.
And because somewhere far away, an old man named Tang Chen was still drowning alone inside endless slaughter.
After a long silence, Lin Yuan finally answered softly.
“So I won’t regret being powerless later.” Old Chen did not reply immediately.
Then eventually, he laughed quietly.
“A very young answer.” The lantern light gradually disappeared down the mountain path.
Lin Yuan remained seated silently atop the cracked black stone.
Cold wind swept across the cliffside continuously.
After several moments, he slowly closed his eyes again.
The invisible pressure around him returned instantly.
Boom.
This time— Seven times gravity descended upon his body.
Blood burst from Lin Yuan’s mouth immediately.
His vision darkened violently while pain exploded through every inch of his flesh.
Crack.
A sharp sound echoed faintly from his left arm.
Bone fracture.
Lin Yuan’s body trembled uncontrollably.
Yet despite the agony, his expression remained calm.
Because inside the overwhelming pain— He could feel himself becoming stronger again.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, Lin Yuan finally began believing something.
Perhaps fate truly could be changed.