Shi Jin's face lit up like a sunrise. He slammed his calloused palm against his thigh with a thunderous crack that echoed off the courtyard walls. "Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! Why in all my forty-two years didn't I think of that? This... this could change everything for our people!"
"Education," Lin Che's expression remained serious as a funeral, driving home the final nail. "Establish a proper schoolhouse. Every single member of Tianmen Village—man, woman, and child, from six to sixty—must learn to read and write basic characters. Without literacy, you're forever pawns on someone else's board, signing contracts you can't read and walking into traps you can't see."
[Philosophical Persuasion Success Rate: 67%. Host's charisma is operating at 140% capacity. The bandit chief is eating out of his palm. Lip-licking detected.]
The words struck deep into Shi Jin's past. Memories of being tricked by officials, of signing documents he couldn't read that stole his family's land, of watching his father hang from a gibbet after a "legal" land seizure, played across his face like ghosts. Finally, he gave a single, decisive nod that set his axe jangling. "I'll agree to all of it. But words are wind, and paper is thin. Show me you have the strength to crush Black Wind Village, or none of this matters."
Lin Che rose to his feet, the motion revealing just how much his body still trembled beneath his robes. His aura flickered like a candle in a storm, but his eyes blazed with unwavering determination that could have cut diamond. "Tomorrow at dawn, I'll personally remove that demonic bear's head from its shoulders and deliver it to your feet."
[System Death Flag Detection: Host has just erected a major death flag in the most fertile soil possible. System strongly advises: death flags are not houseplants—do not water them, do not give them sunlight, do not casually erect them while in a weakened state. Survival probability if flag stands: 41%.]
A deep frown creased the bandit chief's face. "No. Too reckless. You must prove yourself here, where I can see the truth of your abilities with my own eyes. I won't send my brothers to die following a man who might collapse mid-battle."
He turned toward the main hall and bellowed, his voice carrying across the entire village. "Third Brother! Get your worthless ass in here! Time to earn your keep!"
The bearded escort emerged from the barracks, his ghost-head saber already drawn and reflecting the noon sun. He moved with the confidence of a man who'd survived fifty battles. "Chief?"
"Spar with our guest." Shi Jin's voice dropped to a serious rumble that brooked no argument. "No holding back. I want to see every ounce of skill, every trick, every dirty move you know. Don't disappoint me."
Lin Che's eyebrow arched in surprise. He could feel the weakness period dragging at his limbs like chains—his current power barely reached mid-Body Tempering stage, while Third Brother was a veteran at late-Body Tempering with a decade of banditry under his belt.
[Combat Simulation Complete: Win rate: 31.4%. Loss rate: 68.6%. System Recommendation: Forfeit while dignity and bones remain intact. Also, maybe don't spar when you can't even stand without wobbling.]
"Very well." Lin Che gripped his rusty woodcutter's knife, the familiar weight grounding him. "If I lose, I leave Tianmen Ridge and never return. If I win, our deal remains unchanged, and you double the soup rations for the children in the village."
Third Brother gave a battle roar that startled birds from the trees and made Shi Jin's axe rattle on his back. His ghost-head saber sliced through the air with a whistling arc, aimed to split Lin Che from shoulder to hip in a single, decisive blow. It was a veteran's move—no hesitation, no warning.
In the blink of an eye, Lin Che's form dissolved into a ghostly blur that seemed to defy physics. When he reappeared, his rusted blade rested gently against the bearded man's exposed throat, his foot hooked behind Third Brother's ankle. One push, and the bandit would be on his back.
The courtyard fell deathly silent. Third Brother's saber hung frozen mid-swing, his eyes wide with disbelief. He hadn't even seen Lin Che move.
[⚔️ Combat Memory Unlocked: Ninth-Generation Slaughter God techniques activated. Absolute technique suppression detected. This wasn't a fight, it was a masterclass tutorial. Host just performed a 0.7-second perfect takedown while at 35% power. System is reluctantly impressed.]
"I... I yield," Third Brother stammered, slowly lowering his weapon with hands that now trembled slightly. "Never seen anything like that. You're not human."
[Combat Statistics: Duration: 0.7 seconds. Nine distinct moves executed in 0.3 seconds. Shi Jin's Shock Value: Over 9000. Bandit morale: Approaching fanatic levels.]
Shi Jin's jaw literally dropped open, his axe slipping from his shoulder to hang loose in his grip. "Who... who in the nine hells and seven heavens are you? No Body Tempering cultivator moves like that. Not even a Qi Condensing master could be that fast."
"Just a brother trying to protect his sister and earn a living." Lin Che sheathed his knife with practiced ease, hiding the fact that his knees were about to give out. "Tomorrow night, Black Wind Village burns. I'll send up the signal flare myself."
He turned and walked back toward his room, each step costing him visibly, yet his spine remained arrow-straight. The gathered bandits whispered in awe, already spreading tales of the "ghost-handed strategist."
[⚠️ Critical Warning: Host has burned through limited spiritual reserves. Weakness period forcibly extended to 24 hours. Congratulations, you played yourself. Survival recommendation: Actually rest this time, you stubborn masochist.]
Behind him, Shi Jin stared at the goatskin scroll, then at Lin Che's retreating back, then at his own shaking hand. For the first time in years, the bandit chief felt something he thought he'd lost: hope.