Shen Liang's vision tunneled. Pain lanced through every limb, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. Ten HP. His body screamed for him to surrender, to collapse, to give in—but his mind refused. I will not die. Not here. Not now.
In that split second of unyielding resolve, the system responded—not with a notification, but with a surge deep within his core.
[Skill Acquired: Last Resort]Effect: When near death, the user becomes immortal for 5 minutes. All damage is nullified while active. Requires unyielding mind; cannot be triggered by surrendering or fear.
A strange warmth radiated through his battered body. The pain dulled, his movements smoothing as if his muscles remembered themselves, unbound by damage. The ruby-red eyes flared with renewed intensity, and his mind cleared to surgical precision.
The White Fist Tiger, berserk and golden-eyed, charged again, claws slashing through the air. Shen Liang moved—not merely reacting, but anticipating every strike. Each leap, each pivot, each strike was perfectly synchronized, a dance of survival honed by desperation and genius.
Outside the simulation, the audience gasped. The virtual capsule glowed with energy, but their eyes were drawn to the boy inside—bleeding from the mouth, yet still moving, his body flying, twisting, and colliding with the capsule walls as though reality itself bent to his will. Whispers spread: That's Shen Liang… how is he still alive?
Within the simulation, Shen Liang's fists struck like lightning, each blow amplified by [Shen Liang's Fists] and the blood-stained cloths. The clone staggered under the relentless assault.
[White Fist Tiger (Clone): 0/200]
A final roar tore from the clone, shaking the simulation, and then silence. Shen Liang's body landed lightly, chest heaving, blood dripping but no longer threatening his life. The system pulsed around him, confirming victory.
[Victory Achieved][Experience Gained: +1000 XP][Level Up!][Stats Restored and Increased][STR: 19 → 22][AGI: 24 → 27][STM: 12 → 15][DEX: 15 → 18][INT: 52 → 55][Passive: Speed Boost acquired – Movement speed +20%]
The young prodigy rose, crimson staining his mouth, eyes blazing with calm dominance. The system's glow around him dimmed, leaving only the faint shimmer of achievement.
Outside, spectators stared in awe, some speechless, others murmuring feverishly. His body, bouncing and twisting within the capsule, had become a living testament to skill, strategy, and sheer willpower. No one had ever seen such a display of survival under mortal peril.
And somewhere deep inside, Shen Liang allowed himself the faintest smirk. The clone had been only the beginning.
Shen Liang exhaled, chest heaving as the system displayed his victory. But even as the glow of triumph faded, he noticed something—an almost imperceptible fraying along the edges of the blood-stained cloths wrapped around his fists.
[Blood-Stained Cloth – Worn Out]Effect lost. Strength decreased by 4.
The young prodigy's crimson hands flexed, the warmth of the cloth's enhancement fading. His strength had dropped back to 18. A minor setback, yet one he had anticipated. He smiled faintly, unused to relying on temporary crutches. Strategy, wit, and adaptability had carried him this far; the cloths had merely been accelerants.
Shen Liang's ruby eyes flicked to the floating system window, the options shimmering in neon clarity. Sword, Fists, Magic, Alchemy, Guns, Daggers…
He paused, calculating. Physical skills had brought him this far, but raw power alone would not secure his dominance in the Guardian Selection. The next subject had to challenge him differently, a test that would exercise his intellect, adaptability, and the arcane limits of the System.
[Magic]
With a calm flick of his wrist, he selected it.
[Selected Subject: Magic][Prepare for the next simulation in 3 minutes]
Outside the capsule, spectators murmured in disbelief. Blood still trickled from his mouth, his body twisting and colliding within the simulation chamber—but Shen Liang's aura had shifted. Even without the cloths, even bleeding, even with his strength slightly reduced, he radiated something unshakable: calculated danger.
Inside, he flexed his mind, recalling every tome, every principle of arcane theory he had absorbed during the endless years of preparation. Magic was not just a tool; it was another battlefield, another puzzle to solve. And Shen Liang thrived on solving impossible puzzles.
The system window blinked: "3 minutes until simulation start. Choose equipment and skills wisely."
The next challenge awaited—and Shen Liang's mind was already three moves ahead.