Grandpa Meno and Grandma Cena paused for a moment and looked at Gray with a guilty expression.
"Everyone does, but it's not a matter of wanting to or not, but a matter of talent, strength, and background. As you know, your grandparents here don't exactly have a strong background, your strength, while being above average amongst those your age in the clan, isn't even close enough to be amongst the top 100, let alone top 10. The same goes for your talent." Grandma Cena patiently explained.
"But what if I join as a rogue cultivator?" Gray asked, testing the waters.
"I don't suggest that." Grandpa Meno's response was immediate and indignant, but not out of fear for his life.
"Do you have any idea what that means? You wouldn't be a disciple. You'd have to be a servant! Cleaning boots, scrubbing floors, and serving arrogant young masters for years, all for the slimmest chance of maybe, one day, being promoted to the outer sect!"
For the first time, Grandma Cena didn't argue with him, silently agreeing.
"That's right," she said in a somber tone. "It's a life of hardship and humiliation, with no respect and meager resources. You are our grandson, we can't bear to watch you suffer like that."
They were saying this for his own good, trying to protect his future and his dignity.
Gray simply listened, a calm, easy-going smile on his face.
He didn't argue or insist. In any case, he wasn't too gung-ho about joining a sect anyway; it was just a passing thought.
"I see," he said. "Okay, I won't then."
His simple smile, however, stabbed at his grandparents' hearts. They didn't see his indifference; they saw a mature, understanding grandson hiding his bitter disappointment.
They saw a boy who had given up on a potential dream because he knew his grandparents were too low-status in the clan to secure him a proper recommendation.
He wasn't arguing because he didn't want to burden them.
A wave of guilt washed over them.
Grandpa Meno's face hardened with frustrated resolve. He shook his head, not at Gray, but at their own powerlessness. "Don't you worry, child. I'll do something about it." he said, his voice now thick with emotion.
"By the way, don't forget about the meeting with the clan leader tomorrow. We'll do our best to make sure that you get the justice you deserve."
He said it with a new determination, as if this meeting was now about more than just the past attack; it was about fighting for Gray's future.
"... yes grandpa," Gray said pensively, not really expecting anything. He knew that he and his grandparents' status in the clan was quite low, and the people who harmed him had powerful backings.
It was already quite a miracle that the clan leader would even bother to meet them; he guessed that it was only for show.
"Grandpa, grandma, may I borrow a Imagery Crystal?" asked Gray.
"Eh? What would you need it for?" asked Grandma Cena, but she still pulled out a small crystal the size of a tennis ball from her spatial pouch. "Here, make sure not to lose it, otherwise, we wouldn't be able to repay the clan even if we sell ourselves." joked Grandma Cena.
Gray was touched at Grandma Cena's trust in him, he could tell from her slightly nervous expression that even though she said it in a joking manner, she was truly serious about the cost of the Imagery Crystal. Yet, despite that, she still let him borrow the crystal.
"Thank you, grandma, I'll be careful and make sure not to lose or break it."
"Haha, break it? Even if you were a hundred times stronger, you still wouldn't be able to put a scratch on that thing, don't worry about that. Alright, I'm going to bed now, go fish with grandpa for a while, he's been waiting for you all day. Then make sure to get some sleep afterwards as we have a big day tomorrow." said Grandma Cena, looking at her grandson with amusement.
Gray saw the gentle care in his grandma's expression. It truly warmed his heart.
With the crystal tucked safely away, he left the room and joined Grandpa Meno by the riverside. The old man already had two rods ready, waiting with a wide grin. Gray smiled as he sat down beside him, the night air cool and calm. Fishing with grandpa felt simple, but it was one of the moments he loved most, it was peace.
He silently vowed to himself 'Tomorrow... I don't care what backing those bastards have, even if it's the sect leader himself, I'll make sure to not let my grandparents lose face.'
…
After a round of fishing, Grandpa Meno went to sleep as Gray stayed behind at the porch. He gathered everything in his memories about the people who attacked him as well as their backings.
There was really just one main culprit—Jamal, the rest were just lackeys. The main reason they ganged up on him was because the girl that Jamal liked rejected him because she liked Gray.
Some of the other lackeys had similar reasons, as there were dozens of girls in the clan who had a crush on him, but the only one he had to watch out for the most is the one named Jamal.
His cultivation level is nothing special, he had an ugly face, and a stupidly muscular body which only he himself found to be attractive.
The only reason he could even be considered a threat was because of his background.
Jamal's father was an inner elder with decent strength, he was above average in terms of strength amongst the inner elders, he also had 2 uncles who were inner clan elders.
Most importantly, he had an elder brother and several cousins who were disciples of the Nine Divine Pagodas, one of the 4 Sects.
Currently, he didn't have to worry about the elder brother as he only came back from the sect once a year.
He took out a book from a nearby shelf called 'Anarkin Clan's Rulebook.'
This was the clan's constitution, which dictated the rules that everyone had to abide to, whether inner or outer clan, it also had punishments for breaking said rules.
It also contained the rights and privileges that an outer clan member had, which Gray didn't expect much.
However, he took it and read through the contents. A smile slowly crept into his face as he memorized everything.
Gray then took out the Imagery Crystal, it was the size of a tennis ball and the surface was smooth as glass, there was a slight illumination in its core.
He tried to activate it but failed, obviously, it needed Spiritual Energy.
At his current state, he wouldn't be able to use it at all due to the fact that his body still hasn't recovered enough for him to cultivate again and use Spiritual Energy, but that was fine, he had other plans.
He was truly surprised that this world had something like this. He started devising a new plan on the spot.
'Right, I almost forgot.'
He closed his eyes and focused inward, calling up the grimy, graffiti-covered interface of the Immortal Delinquent System.
A new tab blinked invitingly on the System's interface: [Black Market Lottery].
'I've got 3,500 Street Cred,' Gray thought. 'Let's see if I can buy a miracle.'
He opened the tab. There were no tiers, no different draws. Just one single, grimy-looking option that seemed to pulse with risky energy.
[Common Thug Draw] - 1,000 Street Cred Points.
A single pull from the System's entire chaotic inventory. Could be a Divine Skill. Could be a half-eaten sandwich. Feeling lucky, punk?
Gray's eye twitched. A thousand points per pull was steep, and the potential rewards were insane in both directions.
"Alright, Common Thug Draw," he muttered to himself. "Show me what you got." He selected the option, and 1,000 points vanished from his total.
The system's animation was a rusty, clanking slot machine. The wheels spun, a blur of treasures and trash. They slowed, clicking into place. A dirty sock... a rusty nail... and a piece of meatloaf.
[You've won... a Half-Eaten Piece of Meatloaf!]
Gray stared in utter disbelief as the item appeared in his system inventory, a single meatloaf with one bite taken out of it.
"A thousand points... for leftovers?" he said to the empty porch. "This system is a complete and total scam."
Annoyed but not defeated, he decided to try again. He had to get something useful. He sank another 1,000 points into the gamble.
The rusty slot machine whirred to life again. The wheels spun... a glittering diamond... a legendary sword... and a lumpy grey rock.
[Congratulations! It's... a Rock That Looks Vaguely Like the Clan Leader's Face!]
"You have got to be kidding me," Gray growled, his voice low and dangerous. He was now down 2,000 points for literal garbage.
He had one last shot. The remaining 1,500 SC wasn't enough for two pulls, so this was it.
He hesitated, the frustration battling with the desperation. "Screw it. Go big or go home."
He hit the button for the final time. "Come on, you stupid system, give me something good."
The slot machine seemed to shudder under the weight of his final gamble. Sparks flew from its sides, and the wheels spun with blinding speed.
They slammed into place one by one. A skull... another skull... and the last one, with a final, dramatic ker-chunk, landed on a small, yellow paper talisman with a mischievous-looking face drawn on it.
[You've acquired a Rare Item: The Lying Old Fart Talisman (One-Time Use)!]
Gray's eyebrow shot up. "A... what talisman? Is this a joke?"
He read the item description.
[The Lying Old Fart Talisman (One-Time Use): When used on a target, any lie they speak will be accompanied by a loud, magically amplified fart for the next 10 minutes. The bigger the lie, the more dramatic the sound, and the more unbearable the stench. Even small lies will reek, while larger ones will unleash an extremely foul odor capable of clearing a room.]
Gray stared at the description. He thought about the solemn, formal hearing tomorrow.
A slow, wicked, and utterly delighted grin spread across his face. He let out a single, suppressed snicker that shook his shoulders.
"Alright, this will do, tomorrow should be fun." Gray whispered to himself.
He used the whole evening to devise strategies for different scenarios, although he couldn't predict everything, just the general direction should be enough, and the rest would be up to his improvisation skills.
…
Floating hundreds of meters above the area of the clan grounds were the gold and black haired beauties from yesterday.
"Did you find our target yet?" the golden-haired beauty called Matriarch asked, while eating a snack.
"No." the black-haired beauty, whose name was Ziye answered curtly.
"Hmm… it's actually able to hide from your senses. Let's search again tomorrow, at least we know that the general area is around here somewhere." The golden haired girl called matriarch replied nonchalantly, but a slight frown could be seen in between her eyebrows.
"Yes." Ziye nodded. She was obviously a woman of few words.