At Shrek Academy, Tang San awoke once again from his ditation, his eyes filled with resentnt and despair.
His soul power kept leaking away, and sotis the fluctuations were especially intense. Even the endlessly circulating Mysterious Heaven Skill couldn't sustain the drain. How the hell was he supposed to cultivate like this?
What's more, every ti he thought about the possibility of his hamr being used by that cat to smash cucumbers, crack walnuts, or hamr nails, rage would surge uncontrollably in his heart.
"Shen An, and that damned cat... One day, I'll tear you both to pieces, eat your flesh, and drink your blood."
He raged inwardly, indulging in glorious fantasies about the future.
Outside the room, Yu Xiaogang looked visibly more haggard than before. In the span of more than ten days, Tang San's cultivation had only managed to not regress. If he made even a bit of progress on any given day, it was as if he'd won the lottery.
For a genius, every minute and second was especially precious. He was counting on Tang San to shine in the Advanced Soul Master Tournant. Otherwise, how could he prove the correctness of his theories?
Tang San stepped out of the room and said in a low voice, "Teacher, when will I get my hamr back?"
Yu Xiaogang opened his mouth but found that he had nothing to say.
After all, he couldn't just tell his student, "Your teacher is useless. If you want your hamr back, you'll have to count on your dad."
Tang San glanced gloomily at Yu Xiaogang. Forget it. This person couldn't be relied on.
At that mont, a tall, burly shadow stepped out silently and said in a deep voice, "Xiao San, what's going on? Why is your soul power continuously decreasing?"
Tang San looked over in surprise—Dad was here. Finally, he was saved.
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After the match, Zhu Zhuqing sat in ditation to cultivate her soul power. She was the very embodint of what it ant for a woman to max out her self-discipline.
Even Ning Rongrong, a certified slacker, had been influenced and was now cultivating far more diligently than usual.
A look of envy appeared in Shen An's eyes.
He was truly envious of people like them who could work hard on their own. Unlike him—trapped by the system—with his options limited to refining techniques and exploring how to use his soul power.
In truth, the system didn't prevent Shen An from obtaining soul rings by other ans. He could very well hunt soul beasts like others did.
But Shen An, with his obsessive-compulsive tendencies, was dead set on maxing out every one of his attributes.
Who didn't want to beco an overpowered numbers monster? In his case, aside from the soul rings granted by the system, he wouldn't even consider any alternatives.
And all of this was tied to one thing—reputation points.
Shen An rubbed his temples slightly. Reputation points were just too damn hard to earn. At the mont, he was still 1.5 million short of redeeming his fourth soul ring.
He wondered when the Noble Banquet would begin. When it did, he'd bring Tom and Jerry to show off their skills. Shen An made a ntal note.
Honestly, his soul power had already improved at a frightening pace. In less than half a year, he had reached level 40. Under normal circumstances, there was no need to be so desperate.
But in the distance lood the Titan Giant Ape of Star Dou Forest, waiting for him to settle the score. Closer by, the people of Spirit Hall were eyeing him with ill intent. Naturally, Shen An wanted to gather as many reputation points as possible to feel secure.
In his previous life, money was a man's backbone. In this life, reputation points were his.
What a pity that the Great Spirit Arena wouldn't let him enter to compete. Otherwise, he could've earned more points. Shen An sighed in boredom.
Wait a second—they wouldn't let him enter the arena, but what if he competed under a hidden identity? Reputation points were determined by the person, not the na. There might be so overlap, but it should still expand his options.
That said, he would have to guard against the Spirit Arena's thods for detecting soul power levels and martial souls.
Such checks were necessary. Otherwise, soone could exploit the system by repeatedly sending in an invincible soul master of the sa rank to ga the system. The Spirit Arena would go bankrupt.
Shen An pondered how to solve this problem, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Tom nearby.
Perfect. When you hit a problem you can't solve, you call in Tom.
"Tom, the organization has an important mission for you. Do you have the confidence to complete it?"
Shen An asked, not very confidently. After all, the thing he was about to propose was a little outrageous.
Tom stood up straight, puffed out his chest, and stuck out his belly. He had received Shen An's kindness and was honor-bound to serve him loyally. Naturally, he would do everything he could to complete the mission.
"Tom, can you temporarily beco my martial soul, like the Nine-Leaf Sword Grass? When we go to the Great Spirit Arena, we'll bask in the cheers of the crowd together."
Tom froze. That request... was a bit bizarre. But he could give it a try.
First, Tom signaled Shen An to release the shadow of the Nine-Leaf Sword Grass. Then he lightly leapt into Shen An's palm and instantly shrank thousands of tis, transforming into a tiny, adorable kitten.
He kept waving his arms at Shen An, clearly expressing how novel the experience felt.
Joy sparkled in Shen An's eyes. Truly worthy of being Emperor Tom—completely illogical and unreasonable, and that's exactly why he loved him so much.
Tonight, he would go to the Great Spirit Arena with a mask and start farming reputation points.
Not to be outdone, Jerry also jumped in, transforming into a miniature mouse in Shen An's palm, both of them appearing as translucent shadows.
They jumped in and out, growing large and small, playing rrily without a care.
Shen An bead with joy. This was Tom's charm—no matter how absurd your request, he could always surprise you. Though occasionally unreliable, he always gave it his all.
Still, he had to admit—having flesh-and-blood cats and mice temporarily beco martial souls might be just a little bit unreasonable. Shen An felt a twinge of guilt.
But he quickly shook it off. In the cartoon, Tom had entered the digital world before. He was foolish to try and asure Tom with common sense.
Who was Tom? He'd been to heaven, visited hell, shattered planets, and even saved the world.
"Alright, alright, you two stop playing for now. I'm going to the Great Spirit Arena tonight. Who wants to co with ?"
Jerry shook his head. For now, he still preferred to stay ho.
Naturally, Shen An turned his gaze to Tom. Tom wore the expression of a working-class cat, looking every bit like an overworked office employee.
Shen An hesitated. "If you don't want to go, that's fine. It's not like I urgently need reputation points."
Tom shook his head quickly, a sly glint flashing in his eyes. A small puff of white mist appeared beside his head.
Inside it were images of dried fish, milk, candied fruits, and snacks.
Shen An smiled. This cat clearly wanted compensation.
"You want to eat? Then we'll buy it. Your master's rich now. Supporting the two of you is no problem at all."
Tom licked his lips, eyes gleaming with excitent, and nodded eagerly.
Shen An couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. If Tom wanted sothing to eat, of course he'd buy it. No need to make it so dramatic.
Maybe... food earned through your own efforts really did taste better. Shen An mused to himself.
Tonight's target: the Great Spirit Arena. Ti to make those reputation points skyrocket!
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