"Hm, I believe this is what they call a Spatial Pouches." Dylan collected the leather pouches at the waist of all the corpses.
Spatial Pouches are Entry-level artifact used by low-stage cultivators. It uses basic spatial folding technology, enough to fit a few cubic meters of items, something close to the size of a closet or a small sized room if the quality is at the greater end.
"I think the better versions of these are Storage Bags and Storage Rings." Dylan remembered from reading books on artifacts in the library.
Storage Bags is an elite level artifact which is slightly bigger than a spatial pouch but looks more sophisticated as it designed as a embroidered silk bag or even a satchel. It can carry tenfold of the storage capacity of a spatial pouch. Meanwhile, a spatial ring is a high-end spatial artifact that far surpasses Spatial Bags in capacity, aesthetics and practicality, often forged by master grandmasters to seamlessly bound with a cultivator's soul imprint.
"This is my first spoil of war." Dylan proudly looked over at them as he also realized, feeling the unnatural, folded space weight within the crude leather, "Unfortunately, I don't have spiritual sense to peer into the pouches so I can't know of their contents."
"Well, that's fine. I can just have others do it for me for now like Victoria. Anyways, I need to clean up here first." Dylan put the spatial pouches on his chest pocket in the meantime since he could not survey what was inside.
Before going home, Dylan made sure to cover all tracks. He dragged the heavy corpses into a denser patch of thistles, deliberately spreading fresh blood trails leading deep into the dark woods. He lured in some beasts to the forest clearing so they could eat the remains of Ronald and the others, ensuring no intact evidence of human remains would ever be traced back to him.
Dylan had ripped apart some clothing from his assassins for bandage. He went to a nearby river and washed his wounds.
Having experience being in the wilderness from his previous life, he gathered some common medicinal herbs: silver-leaf thistles and blood-stop ferns which he was able to identify thanks to his time in the library. He mixed and crushed them first between flat river stones before applying the herb essence as first aid. Then, he wrapped his wounds tightly with the improvised cloth strips.
After which, he proceeded to leave the forest.
....
Dylan's Residence, Cirrus Cloud Town
After another hour, Dylan had managed to eventually return back home. He was not able to do it as fast as he normally did due to the fatigue from the battle and the sustained injuries he had. Every step felt heavy, and the blood loss made his head throb with a dull, ringing ache.
'I should try to sneak in so they don't worry.' Dylan tried to be as stealthy as he can, approaching through the side path, but Victoria was there.
"Hm?" Victoria sensed that Dylan had arrived and was about to tell Scarlet when she saw the injuries that Dylan had. Her eyes widened and she immediately rushed over in concern, "What happened?"
Dylan had numerous bandages and was bleeding all over his body. It was evident from his clothes that he had just been in a fight. His clothes and bandages were dyed red due to the continuous bleeding from all his wounds.
"I'm fine." Dylan continued to walk until he reached the doorstep of his house.
"It was just a fight. No need for you to worry..." Dylan's face had become pale due to the loss of blood, his lips losing their natural color.
"How can I not-" Victoria wanted to express her concern, her spiritual energy flickering nervously, but Scarlet had also arrived beside them.
With tears on her eyes and an angry expression which made her pitiful yet still super adorable, Scarlet complained as she sniffed the snot coming from her nose, "Someone bullied you again, didn't they? This time, they did too much! You're bleeding! It was only supposed to be a trip to the library!"
'This happens to him often?' Victoria's heart broke a little upon hearing such tragedy. The image of this kind youth constantly returning home bloody from cruel bullies stirred a sharp, protective anger within her.
Dylan smiled as he tried to comfort his little sister, "Don't worry. Everything is under control. They won't do these things to me again."
"You've told me that a million times already but it still happens again and again! Why don't you fight back? Why don't you tell me who they are?!" Scarlet was very emotional seeing her brother be injured and wounded like this. She really thought that he was abused.
'Oh yeah, he also says something similar.' Dylan realized that he was not clear enough with his words and he had actually said the same things that the younger Dylan would say to comfort Dylan whenever he got bulled in the past.
"Uh... Listen to me, Scarlet," Dylan wanted to clarify things, opening his mouth to explain that he had actually won, but he then saw the three craftsmen also approach their group as well.
"Hello, Sir Dylan!" The three greeted Dylan. They saw that Victoria and Scarlet were rushing over at the entrance but they could not see Dylan's figure clearly at first.
"We are glad to report that we have finished the renovations and- Huh... Sir Dylan, what happened?" One of them, Jake, tried explaining before stopping and seeing his current condition.
"I thought you were only going to the library?" The second one, Jeffrey, expressed his concern, his jaw dropping at the sight of Dylan's blood-soaked bandages.
"Was the library you went to have a deathmatch policy for borrowing books? Like one book, one fight? How many books did you read to be this beaten up?" While the last of the three, Harry, said this with a straight face.
"Henry, there you go again with your weird conspiracies!" The first one, Jake, smacked Henry in the head, "I'm sorry, Sir Dylan. This one is just stupid."
"Jake, it's not stupid! I swear my cousin told me there is a fight club library somewhere in the city!" Harry justified himself.
"Can't you be serious? Sir Dylan is hurt." The second one, Jeffrey, said.
"Harry, fine. I will just ask Sir Dylan in another time." Harry had a look of disappointment but he had an expectant look at Dylan after saying that.
"Harry, stop that." Jeffrey and Jake smacked him in the head.
"Hahaha, no need for the violence, brothers. I am really thankful for your diligent work. Not only did you finish everything for the restaurant beautifully, I can see that the house has transformed too a grand sight. I am in your debt." Dylan took a look at the finished landscape as well as the renovated face of the house. The woodwork gleamed with a warm polish, and the pristine stone path gave the place an inviting atmosphere. He was satisfied with the results.
"Hahaha, you flatter us too much, sir"
"Don't mention it, sir."
"The food you served us was really good! Would it be fine if we got to eat it again?"
"Of course, I can treat you a meal next time." Dylan replied laughingly.
"Big bro, you're evading the topic!" Scarlet refocused the conversation, stomping her foot as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Tell us what happened." Victoria insisted, stepping forward as her aura flared with quiet intensity.
"Yes, sir. We might not seem much but we can definitely help you deal with some gangsters." The three also offered, rolling up their sleeves earnestly.
"Let me freshen up first, I just need to take a bath..." Dylan could not finish his words, as he fainted. It was due to the blood loss that he incurred during his journey back home, not from the actual fight itself as it was a long way back. His vision blurred into darkness as his knees finally buckled.
"Mister Dylan!"
"Sir Dylan!"
"Big Bro!"
Dylan could only hear their cries of Scarlet, Victoria and the three craftsmen as his consciousness faded into deep sleep.
....
In the Cosmic God Space...
Dylan Ford opened his eyes as he said, "I guess I passed out."
"Sir Ford, you were awesome!" Dylan Vastocean greeted him with great enthusiasm.
"Hello, Mister Vastocean. I'm sorry I could not allow you to exact your revenge yourself. It was simply due to the circumstances that I had to do it for you." Ford knew that revenge was best done by the oppressed so they could completely experience the vindication of revenge.
"Oh, heavens, no. Do not say sorry, Sir Ford." Vastocean shook his head along with his hands as he continued to explain, "I doubt that I could have completed my revenge if it wasn't for you. I definitely could have not utilized my body the way you did plus your martial arts was simply divine! The way you executed every attack and every movement is something that I could not hope to achieve. Additionally, the way you tortured Ronald was so satisfying! I can't simply thank you enough, Sir Ford."
"Hahaha, do not be like that. It was only due to my experience that I-" Ford stammered to continue as he saw Vastocean trying to copy the Dosena moves that he executed earlier.
"I think it went like this! or That! And this one! I think you went like this when Edgar attacked you!" Each time Vastocean chooses to reenact during his fight with the four assassins he would perform them exactly like how Ford did it.
"You..." Ford could not believe that he was actually able to imitate him effortlessly.
From the speed, the rhythm, down to the placement of his hands, every single detail was replicated perfectly.
"Oh, sorry, Sir Ford. I made a fool of myself." Vastocean stopped sensing Ford's gaze and meekly scratched his head as though he did something wrong.
"No, actually, you've managed to copy my moves precisely. Amazing! Have you been practicing?" To his surprise, Ford was actually full of praises.
"R-really? Wow, haha. That means a lot. But, that was the first time I did it." Vastocean was very much flattered from a praise that came from his role model and idol.
'So he is like me?' Ford was pleasantly surprised by the revelation. He had always been able to flawlessly copy any martial arts move and technique that was demonstrated in front of him. Now, he met someone with the same talent.
It was a welcome revelation for Ford, 'If that's the case, then it might be possible to maintain a relative level of strength every day. I was worried that there would be lapses every other day but with this, I can train him to be at a level where no one in the lower levels of cultivation would pose a great threat.'
"Mister Vastocean, would you care to train and spar with me?" Ford offered.
"Why is that, Sir Ford?"
"To get stronger, of course. With your talent, I believe that you can catch up to me in no time." Dylan reassured.
"Talent? I-I have talent?" Tears suddenly started flowing from Vastocean's eyes. This was the first time that he had been told that he had talent ever since he was just a child. Naturally he could not help but cry.
He had spent his whole life being called a cripple, a waste of food, and an utter failure because he could not unlock his cultivation and awaken his Spirit Core. He had internalized the cruel words of guards like Ronald and Paul until he genuinely believed he was born worthless.
Talent was not a word that he would associate himself with in his mind. Yet, Dylan Vastocean had been given recognition for the first time in his life by the greatest martial artist he had ever known.
"Hhh... ugh... thank you..." Vastocean sobbed silently, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeves as a lifetime of buried self-hatred and shame dissolved into nothingness.
How ironic it was that the cripple actually had an incredible martial arts talent!