Replicate.
NPC Puppet.
Theoretically, an NPC puppet was a soulless virtual clone—indistinguishable from reality when given artificial consciousness.
Like a mirror reflecting another self.
A yellow soul ring ignited.
Under the gaze of everyone from students to Limit Douluos, a figure woven from light materialized behind An Zhen. Black hair lifted by radiant waves, golden eyes brimming with sovereign confidence—a peerless genius at his zenith.
"Teacher!"
Yan Shaoze—usually called a scheming fox—gasped on the high platform. Though he'd never seen his mentor this young, he knew.
"Martial Uncle?!"
In a corner, a disheveled elder (Xuan Zi) dropped his chicken leg, stunned by memories of youth.
"What an extraordinary boy," Mu En murmured, smiling as Tang Ya pushed his wheelchair.
The radiant figure stepped forward, merging with An Zhen. A phantom face flickered over the boy's features—then BOOM—spiritual power surged into the dragon claw as if rehearsed ten thousand times.
"ROAR—!"
The translucent White Tiger snarled, tail tucked despite its rage.
Use your soul skill! Dai Huabin's pride screamed. Never had he suffered such humiliation. Yet deeper still: fear.
No! Impossible!
"He's lost," Yan Shaoze sighed. This wasn't a last stand—it was death throes.
The dragon claw met the tiger's paw.
CRASH!
Not a clash of equals.
Annihilation.
The White Tiger disintegrated mid-air. Two bodies thudded to the ground. Zhu Lu vomited blood—unconscious. She'd absorbed most of the blow.
Haaah...
An Zhen exhaled. The regal aura faded, replaced by his usual roguish grin.
Copied Mu En's puppet to unleash "Reigning Over All."
Didn't master it, though.
Need to stabilize my mood—overdid the act.
"Match over!" Du Weilun stared at the lone victor. A self-created skill fusing spirit and force? Who was that figure?
"WOOOO!"
The stands erupted—cheers for the conqueror!
"I'M NOT DONE!"
A bloody roar cut through. Dai Huabin—forehead gashed, swaying—glared at Du Weilun. "I'm standing! I have soul power! I'm still in bounds! WHY CALL IT?!"
Du Weilun frowned, signaling teachers to remove Zhu Lu.
The crowd hushed. Who dares yell at the Dean of Discipline?
"Dean Du," An Zhen interjected smoothly. "The student makes a fair point."
"I ensure every opponent loses without doubt."
Du Weilun eyed Dai Huabin's frenzied stare. "Very well. Continue."
Fool.
"AN ZHEN—!"
Dai Huabin stumbled forward, one arm limp, fist raised.
SLAP! SLAP!
Two strikes—left and right—answered him.
Dai Huabin did have soul power left, but spiritual energy ravaging his body and soul blocked his transformation. Only hatred propelled his broken form.
Was Aunt Huo in this much pain? An Zhen wondered.
He seized Dai Huabin's bleeding arm, yanked him close, and drove a fist into his chest.
THUD.
The boy didn't rise again.
An Zhen dragged the limp body and dumped it outside the arena.
"An Zhen's team wins. No further challengers. Advance to semifinals."
The verdict was sealed.
As medics carried Dai Huabin away, An Zhen slipped into a restroom. Following Yi Laike's instructions, he soaked Dai Huabin's blood from his arm with a towel.
A wisp of gray—invisible to mortals—drifted from his brow.
"Done." The hoarse voice sounded weary. "When burned, the curse will erode his martial soul's essence."
"My thanks, Teacher."
"Hide it. Holy energy approaches."
An Zhen stored the towel in a gold bracer—Ning Tian's gift, with 52m³ storage. (She and Wu Feng had matching silver/copper ones. "Payment," he'd told them.)
Huo Yutong will light the fire.
Vengeance tastes sweeter when served by the victim.
"An Zhen!"
Ning Tian's floral scent enveloped him as she nestled against his chest. "Amazing!"
Four rings. Shattering the White Tiger fusion with one blow.
She didn't ask about his feud with Dai Huabin. A smart girl knew boundaries—and how to endear herself to geniuses.
"Nine Treasures Pavilion?" An Zhen teased.
"I know." Blushing, she kissed his cheek and slipped away.
"Wu Feng."
"Pervert." The red dragon girl huffed but kissed his other cheek.
Tsundere.
He found Wang Dong'er and Huo Yutong.
(Safest in the virtual world.)
"Sorry I doubted you," Wang Dong'er said—Huo Yutong had explained. She nudged An Zhen's calf with her socked foot.
Message received.
"Big Brother!"
The blue-haired girl launched into his arms, kissing his lips clumsily before finding her rhythm.
Lip-friendship.
Watching them, Wang Dong'er felt her own heart lighten.
Later, Huo Yutong hid her face against him, curled like a shy kitten.
"Little Yu Tong~ Virtual rewards aren't enough," An Zhen whispered.
"Mhm..." A mosquito's hum, clear to him alone.
"Now—the curse."
An Zhen explained.
"Serves him right!" Wang Dong'er seethed. "Beating defenseless母女 (mother and daughter)! If lives mean nothing to him, his means nothing!"
Huo Yutong looked to An Zhen.
"Blood debts demand blood!" He knelt, meeting her eyes. "The Duchess bullied you—she dies. Dai Huabin ordered the beating—he dies. Those guards pleased their master—they pay."
"We punish the guilty. Not the innocent."
"You have a bright future. Aunt Huo would want you happy. I'll walk with you beyond this shadow."
"Big Brother..." Tears welled.
"Me too!" Wang Dong'er clasped her hand. "Always!"
"Thank you," Huo Yutong whispered, hugging them both.
Reality
With Yi Laike confirming no observers, An Zhen summoned dragonfire. Huo Yutong tossed in the towel, staring as flames devoured it.
"Done."
An Zhen stood. "Now he's just a pebble you kick aside. Turn the page—and watch his clown's downfall."
"Yes." She nodded, a true smile breaking through—like chains falling from her heart.
Mom... I met good people.
Whew. An Zhen relaxed. Huo Yutong's buried rage had weighed on her soul.
Let me carry vengeance. You just shine.
As Huo Yutong and Wang Dong'er left for their match, An Zhen headed to Nine Treasures Pavilion. He waved at the receptionist, ascended to the penthouse, and entered the boudoir—
Splash...
"Feng's feet are so springy—no wonder An Zhen loves them."
"Mmm... Young Mistress..."
"So soft to hold~"
"Your thighs are plush—perfect for his naps."
An Zhen needed an emotional refill.
(End of Chapter)