Khang stared at Lin Ming, his brain short-circuiting at the phrase "This monk." Was this slum rat mocking his intelligence?
"What monk? You're insane!" Khang sputtered.
Lin Ming gave him a pitying look. "A monk shaves his head to cast off worldly desires. You, on the other hand, look like you're about to lose your hair from pure rage. We walk different paths, my friend."
Before Khang could formulate another insult, two medics arrived with a stretcher and unceremoniously hauled him away, still muttering about "slum dogs" and "insanity."
The remaining students watched Lin Ming with a newfound reverence. He wasn't just some lucky kid; he was a weirdly philosophical and terrifyingly calm kid who could take a beating and then end a fight with one kick. That was a far more intimidating combination.
Ignoring the stares, Lin Ming made his way to the school's deserted locker room, needing a moment of privacy.
"System," he said in his mind, "about that Newbie Gift Pack you mentioned..."
[The Host has a surprisingly good memory for free things. Open Newbie Gift Pack? Y/N]
"Yes, obviously. Don't be cheeky."
[Opening Newbie Gift Pack... Congratulations! The Host has received:]
[1x Passive Skill: Tenacious Physique (Level 1)]
[1x Bottle of "Probably-Not-Poison" Healing Salve]
Lin Ming's eyes widened. A passive skill!
[Passive Skill: Tenacious Physique (Level 1)]
[Description: The Host's body has been tempered through... well, getting beaten up. Reduces all incoming physical damage by 5%. The more you get hit, the tougher your skin gets. A masochist's dream come true!]
"Perfect," Lin Ming grinned. This skill was tailor-made for his point-farming strategy. It was like getting a discount on every punch he took.
He then inspected the second item. It was a small, unassuming ceramic bottle.
[Item: "Probably-Not-Poison" Healing Salve]
[Description: Heals minor cuts and bruises. Smells faintly of chicken soup and regret. Apply externally. Do not ingest, probably.]
Despite the system's questionable sense of humor, Lin Ming uncorked the bottle. A surprisingly pleasant aroma filled the air. He dabbed a little of the cool, green paste onto the bruises on his arms and face. Instantly, a soothing sensation spread through his skin, and the ugly purple marks began to fade, disappearing completely within seconds.
"This stuff is amazing!" he exclaimed. He looked brand new, as if the fight with Khang had never happened.
Feeling refreshed and significantly more durable, Lin Ming headed home. The school day was over, and as he approached his small apartment, he could hear the sound of cheerful chatter from inside. The atmosphere felt warmer, livelier.
He opened the door. His sister, Lin An, ran to him immediately. "Brother, you're back! Dad's home!"
Sitting at their small dining table was a man with a soldier's straight posture. He was lean and weathered, with short-cropped hair and a few faint scars on his arms. His face was etched with fatigue, but his eyes, so much like Lin Ming's, lit up when he saw his son. This was his father, Lin Tao.
In his previous life, this was the last year Lin Ming ever saw him alive.
"Dad," Lin Ming said, his voice thick with emotion he couldn't hide.
Lin Tao stood up and pulled his son into a firm, brief hug. "You've gotten taller," he said, his voice raspy. "And tougher." He squeezed Lin Ming's shoulder, and his brow furrowed slightly.
The family dinner was a joyous affair. His mother, Mai, had cooked a feast, including his father's favorite grilled fish. Lin Tao shared heavily censored stories from his post at the Great Wall, speaking of camaraderie and drills, never of the true horror of the alien threat.
After the meal, as Mai and Lin An were clearing the table, Lin Tao gestured for Lin Ming to join him in the small, cramped space behind their apartment building that they called a courtyard.
"You fought today at school," Lin Tao stated. It wasn't a question.
"It was just a combat assessment," Lin Ming replied calmly.
"Your mother told me you won," Lin Tao continued, his gaze sharp and analytical. "She said you were losing badly and then won suddenly. Your physique... it's different from when I last saw you. Show me a move."
Lin Ming knew this was coming. His father was an experienced soldier; he could see the changes that a normal person would miss.
"It's nothing, Dad. I just got lucky."
"There's no luck in a fight," Lin Tao said, his posture shifting into a combat stance. "Just skill and weakness. Don't worry, I'll go easy. Just a light spar."
Without another word, Lin Tao shot a quick, probing jab at Lin Ming's chest. It was a soldier's punch—fast, efficient, and aimed to off-balance. For the old Lin Ming, it would have been unblockable.
For the new Lin Ming, at the Early Stage of Qi Refining, it felt like it was moving through water.
He didn't even step back. He simply raised his hand, deflecting the punch with a gentle tap of his palm that redirected all of his father's momentum.
Lin Tao stumbled forward a step, his eyes wide with shock. He stared at his hand, then back at his son. That wasn't luck. That was technique, control, and a level of strength a sixteen-year-old shouldn't possess.
"Where... did you learn that?" Lin Tao asked, his voice a mix of pride and deep concern.
"I watch a lot of old war documentaries," Lin Ming said, using his go-to excuse.
Lin Tao stared at him for a long moment, then a slow smile spread across his face. He clapped his son on the shoulder again, this time with genuine admiration. "Good. Very good. Keep it up. But remember, real strength is for protecting, not for showing off."
"I know, Dad," Lin Ming said, his heart swelling.
Later that evening, after his parents had gone to bed, Lin Ming put on a dark hoodie. He had 714 Battle Will Points, but he needed more. The path to the Mid Stage of Qi Refining required 2000 points. The schoolyard bullies were a decent source, but the real "business opportunities" were in the lawless outer slums after dark.
He slipped out of the apartment. It was time to go hunting.
The slums at night were a different world. Dark alleys reeked of grime and desperation. He saw a group of three burly thugs cornering an old woman at her food stall, trying to extort "protection money."
A perfect target.
Lin Ming focused his gaze on the leader, a brute with a crude snake tattoo on his neck.
"System," he commanded silently, "use the Eagle Eye Scan."
A data panel instantly appeared in his vision, visible only to him.
[Scanning Target: "Snake-Neck" Gao]
[Strength: Above average human. Hits like a rusty truck.]
[Cultivation: None.]
[Threat Level: Annoying Gnat.]
[System Suggestion: A perfect warm-up. Bonus points available for creative takedowns and witty one-liners.]
A smirk touched Lin Ming's lips. "Showtime."