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His personal pocket dinsion, his ho, was an excellent place to ditate. In the end, after taking into consideration Giovanni's research as well as the experiences of other old players, he decided to focus on the Chinese thod of cultivation.

Qi Condensation, the first stage of cultivating one's inner energy. It was the practice of shifting the ungraspable nature of Qi into sothing tangible—into liquid, identical to the process of condensation. To accomplish it required Qi Gathering and Qi Refining, the ability to absorb Qi from the natural world and into yourself, and then refine it inside the body.

Sitting there for two hours straight, Dasha got nothing. He had done ditation before, it was basic exercise for Tai Chi Chuan. Stilling himself, controlling his breath, it wasn't hard for him. He could empty his mind. He could clear himself of all desires.

Yet the bubbling sensation that was supposed to start in his body wasn't there.

Eyes flung open and revealed a focused set of brown pupils. 'Qi is like gas. It's nearly impossible for ordinary people to feel, let alone manipulate.'

Dasha looked at his fist. "I didn't want to do it this way but I suppose I have no choice. Fire Fist."

The Ga System forcibly activated the energies within a body. His face bead with a sudden light erging from his closed fist.

The tingle. The activation. The Qi.

'This is it.'

Alas, Fire Fist lasted a asly five seconds. He wasn't able to enter a state of ditation quick enough to control it.

So he did it again.

Again and again and again and again and again.

His mana dropped down fast. He didn't care. He kept whispering the words in his mind and then lighting his fist on fire. He could sense a faint pulsation at the core of his being, as if his own life force resonated in harmony with the Qi around him. Yet, it was elusive, slipping through his grasp like quicksilver.

He focused his attention on his abdon, the location of the lower dantian, where Qi was said to gather. His fist lit up and from the forcible activation of Qi, he tried to coax it on his lower abdon. Despite calling on his experiences, it didn't work.

So he kept trying.

[ Warning! Mana in critical zone! ]

Nothing.

His mana dropped and dropped. The blue bar at the edge of his vision fell to a asly three points.

[ Warning! Mana in critical zone! ]

His muscles uncoiled from tension as he stood up. This wasn't working. Why? He couldn't recall the last ti he needed to put this much effort into sothing. When he did a task, it ca easy to him. He was capable of solving university level algebra at age of eight. He was by all accounts a genius.

So how could the diocre players of the past do sothing that he could not? How could Giovanni, a asly scientist of the late middles ages, accomplish a feat he could not replicate?

'The only difference between us would be...experience. Ah, I see. Giovanni, Trota, and Taqi ad-Din all began their research on energy manipulation late into the Heavenly Gas. Their bodies must have evolved to contain and gather Qi at that point, whereas my body has barely begun to do it. Where those players activated magic tens of thousands of tis, I've only done it a dozen or so. They didn't even consider that line of thought because in their ti magic was already real to them.'

He continued thinking. He opened up his mind map, his wealthy tree of knowledge, following and thereby recalling the thoughts, notes, and pages he instilled in his head. By cross-referencing the information, he continued conjuring solutions. 'Then there's my mindset. I'm too much of a scientist. I believe that's why Taqi ad-Din in particular had trouble with shaping his own techniques.'

Taqi ad-Din Muhammad ibn Ma'ruf. A mathematical genius whose calculations and reasoning on the concept of magic would have been ineligible in his era. Taqi ad-Din was so caught up in trying to break down magic into numbers that he couldn't see it for what it was—a power to be manipulated. Controlled. Understood in the mind but not on paper. Dasha did have to give him kudos. For soone from the ti of the Ottoman Empire, he was resilient. He managed to map out which ingredients affected the physical, ntal, and spiritual side of the body. It was fascinating, really, and Dasha made sure to note all his findings.

But the ultimate lesson from Taqi ad-Din's journal entries was from his mindset.

'In spite of all my martial artist training, I'm a technical person at heart. I can't let go of myself and believe in magic and Qi as freely as so others.'

Although impossible, if there was a genius on his level that was free-spirited instead of tightly wound, that genius would have been capable of grasping the flow of Qi imdiately. No hesitation.

'Upbringing, biology...I can't change who I am nor can I change what I've experienced. But I can mitigate them.'

After activating Fire Fist so many tis, his fingers tingled. Sparks of flas leaked as he attempted to replicate what he could do with the Ga System. He was getting there.

No words were spoken. The sensation from activating Fire Fist was engraved from the tips of his fingers to his wrist.

Whoosh!

Without a word, he managed to activate Fire Fist. His mana dropped to a resounding zero and he received another ssage.

[ Warning! Mana has dropped to zero! ]

He marvelled at the newfound sensitivity in his skin and the precision with which he could guide the energy. He marvelled at the temporary flas he could manipulate.

Then, as soon as the flas disappeared, his hand seared with pain. His eyes went wide. His fingers started to shake. Dasha bit his bottom lip and clutched his wrist as if trying to contain the pain within his trembling fingers.

Dasha couldn't. The burn twisted and writhed and he couldn't stop it.

"Shit...!"

The pain felt like a relentless ache that intensified from the tiniest movent. His heart suddenly began to escalate as every twitch started to burn intensely. The burn swiftly evolved into a piercing agony that surged down his forearm and coursed through his fingers. Every twitch of his hand, every flex of his fingers, sent waves of pain shooting through his entire limb.

"What the hell...!" His knees buckled and he nearly dropped to his knees. "Is this...what I...mmmph!"

So this was the punishnt for letting his mana drop to zero?

A minute later, when his mana gained three ager points, the pain promptly stopped. His eyes were beading red and his temple was slick with sweat. Droplets fell to the white floor, deafening.

"Better to, haah, know now than later, I suppose." Dasha fell silent. "Pain. How long has it been since I was genuinely in pain? I have delivered pain to others like this for a long, long ti."

His lips tempted curl upwards. The way his blood was pumping and his veins were pulsating....Dasha liked this. He found a strange thrill from it.

"This has been a long ti coming."

***

His body was weak and his mana was weaker. No way he could make headway in his training in this condition. He returned to the Nebulous Bazaar and was ready for so food.

'Li Wei and Zhang i can cook sothing up.'

Dasha entered their ho and called for them. "Hello?" No response. They weren't here. He went past the front counter and into the back area. The couple was nowhere to be found.

'No sign of them. I will have to do it myself.'

What was intriguing about the technology of the Nebulous Bazaar was that it was reminiscent of the early nineteen eighties, from the microwave ovens to the refrigerators. The vintage design of the kitchen threw Dasha off at first. It was reminiscent of his childhood. He might have been born in the nineties but he was raised in a modest ho that skimd through life cheaply. In other words, seeing old appliances was normal.

Ten minutes in and Kazi felt like a reflection of his mother. Sizzling on the old school oven was an oven Kung Pao Chicken, the glossy sauce glistened, the chicken was perfectly tender, and sprinkled with dried chilli peppers. The upper oven's thermostat was a bit off, and Dasha decided to use that to his advantage.

He flicked a finger, summoned and controlled the flas to a minor match, and tended to the chicken where it might have lacked tenderness.

[ New skill learned : Fire Finger ]

Training while ditating, training while fighting, and now training while cooking. Dasha was the epito of efficiency and he was proud of that.

But before he started training again, he needed to go to the Dark District. Though this world and its rules were still new to him, he needed to adapt fast. He needed to experint. He needed contingencies.

And he knew just how the Dark District could help.

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