Inside the Tiger Soul Research Institute, within the training room.
Feng Qi sat on a couch, holding a tablet in his hands. A small figure, already deep in slumber, rested on his lap. To his right, the Mist Lord was also holding a tablet, eyes focused intently as they read a novel with great seriousness.
He reached out, wiping away the little drool at the corner of the sleeping child's mouth before lowering his gaze back to his tablet.
Since the green-skinned Domain Creature couldn't integrate with the rules of the human world, it hadn't lasted long after being taken out of the Domain Field—collapsing into a cloud of green blood mist.
All that remained were blood samples.
Not long ago, Wei Wei had sent over the analysis report.
According to her findings, the blood of the green-skinned Domain Creatures contained regenerative factors, similar to those found in spiritual plants. When extracted and processed into a medicinal serum, it showed tremendous healing potential.
If used in large enough doses, it could even regenerate severed limbs.
This was an unexpected breakthrough.
Reality wasn't like a game—everyone had only one life.
Even if a warrior didn't die, suffering a crippling injury would still mean losing most of their combat ability and ultimately being forced to retire from service.
For humanity, already facing a severe shortage of frontline fighters, this was a devastating loss.
If this serum could be mass-produced, it would offer warriors a second chance at life.
"Something wrong?"
The Mist Lord turned to look at him.
Feng Qi passed the tablet over.
Scanning the email from Wei Wei, the Mist Lord's expression shifted to one of surprise.
"This is good news."
"If it were you, what would you do?" Feng Qi asked.
Rather than answering immediately, the Mist Lord replied,
"I've recently been playing some of the games developed by your human researchers. In many of them, there's a commonly found item—things like health potions, recovery elixirs, or healing serums. Their primary function is to help players restore their combat status.
"Now, right before you, lies a real-world version of this concept—a Domain Field that can act as a factory for mass-producing healing potions."
After a brief pause, the Mist Lord continued,
"If I were you, I wouldn't be in a hurry to clear out this Domain Field. You can treat it as a renewable resource—a steady supply of raw materials to produce healing serums.
"While the yield might not be enough to support all of humanity, keeping this Domain Field intact will greatly strengthen Star City's future development and significantly reduce battlefield casualties."
Feng Qi nodded in agreement.
"My thoughts exactly. Maybe we should relocate the front-line supply zone elsewhere and leave the Forest Domain Field intact for now.
"After all, when it comes to harvesting resources, is it better to cut down an entire field in one go or cultivate it for long-term yields? The answer is obvious."
The Mist Lord's idea perfectly aligned with his own thoughts.
A single green-skinned Domain Creature only contained a minuscule amount of healing factor, barely enough for one bottle of healing serum.
But the Forest Domain Field could continuously produce more of these creatures.
If Star City established a "Healing Serum Factory"—as described in Wei Wei's email—along with the necessary support infrastructure, they could mass-produce healing serums on a large scale.
This would be an enormous boost to Star City's development.
However, one significant issue remained.
Inside the Forest Domain Field, there was a group of Blood-Eyed Creatures.
If these weren't eliminated, using the Domain Field as a long-term resource would come with serious risks.
If ordinary frontline soldiers entered the Forest Domain Field and encountered a Blood-Eyed Creature, their chances of survival would be next to none.
When it came to telekinesis, the Blood-Eyed Creatures were vastly superior.
Even his Malice Talent had originally been extracted from one of them.
Facing a whole group of them, he wasn't confident he could win.
For now, he didn't have a clear solution for dealing with the Blood-Eyed Creatures inside the Forest Domain Field.
Opening his messaging interface, he drafted a message to Star City's key representatives, calling for a High Council Meeting that evening.
The topic: relocating the Star City Western Supply Zone and re-evaluating their plans for the Forest Domain Field.
After spending half an hour detailing the situation, he hit the "Send to All (Internal Mail)" button.
With that out of the way, Feng Qi opened up his tablet and navigated to the newly established Dawn Game Forum.
Recently, the "simplified version" of the virtual game project had been officially launched.
Alongside the game, the Dawn Game Forum was also introduced.
Feng Qi had created three major sections on the website:
1. Technical Discussion Zone
2. Highlight Replays (Video Zone)
3. General Chat Board
Back during the Warfront Campaign, the virtual game had already proven its value.
It had allowed Star City's combat capabilities to skyrocket within just a few years.
At the same time, the game provided an opportunity for many retired, disabled veterans to continue contributing.
For aging soldiers who had lost their purpose, this was an enticing prospect.
However, back then, he had been too eager—releasing the virtual game to all five major cities simultaneously.
This had disrupted the interests of various hidden forces lurking within human society.
Almost immediately, the other four major cities began issuing public criticisms of the game, attempting to shut it down.
The outcry eventually escalated into full-scale accusations against Star City.
Having learned his lesson, he wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
As the Mist Lord had once put it, as long as he kept his influence confined to Star City, he could do whatever he wanted without causing major trouble.
Even if the hidden Domain Creature factions in the other cities became wary, they would likely assume this was just another Domain Entity's personal scheme.
So this time, Feng Qi restricted the virtual game's release to Star City alone.
To be safe, he only launched a stripped-down version first, using a gradual approach to test the boundaries of the hidden forces.
If no major pushback emerged, he would gradually roll out improvements, even introducing virtual combat simulations that allowed practitioners to train against Domain Creatures inside the game.
He clicked into the Technical Discussion Zone, where a flood of new threads appeared at the top of the page.
Feng Qi scrolled through the Dawn Game Forum, watching as the discussion threads refreshed in real-time.
[Looking for advice! I just put together a skill combo in the virtual game, and it feels incredibly smooth when used in ranked battles. Should I consider learning these four spells in real life to use in actual combat? (Attached: Skill Combo Diagram.jpg)]
Original Post: Wave Light
Comments:
Star City Top Dog: Even though this game has an 80% realism rate, there's still a difference between virtual combat and reality. But using the game for reference is a solid idea. Who knows, you might end up with some unexpected gains. I gotta say, this game is incredibly well made.
The Way Is Formless: All the skills I use in the game are spells I can already perform in real life. But after following the advice from a post yesterday about optimizing skill combos, I found that my spellcasting efficiency shot up! I tested it in reality, and it actually worked. Highly recommend trying it out!
[This game is way too fun! Anyone up for duo-queue in ranked? If ranked scores could count toward admission into Star City Academy, I'd be grinding all night with no regrets.]
Original Post: Next Year's Goal—Star City Academy
Comments:
Little Joker: Bro, you're dreaming too hard. If "Dawn" ranking scores actually influenced academy admissions, the game's realism would need to be at least 95%, and the skill trajectories would have to perfectly match real-world spellcasting. Even if they did both of these, it would still only be a bonus to your final score—it would never outright replace entrance exams. (Punch meme.jpg)
Salted Fish Fortress: Honestly, I think this game has potential. It could fill the gaps in combat training. But right now, there are too many bugs and flaws—it needs improvement.
Light Breeze in Qingzhou: Trash game, loading times are way too slow. But yeah, it's still super fun.
No Words: You guys don't find it suspicious that this game is being promoted so aggressively? "Dawn" managed to get large-scale virtual game centers set up all over Star City—it's not something a normal game would pull off. If it were just an average game, the higher-ups would've shut it down already. But instead, its rollout has been completely smooth.
I'm betting the upper echelons of Star City are backing this project. Maybe they created it to improve combat training. Mark my words—this game is going to see major upgrades in the future. We might even see ranked scores actually impact admissions into combat classes at Star City Academy.
(Just speculating, don't come at me if you disagree.)
...
The Dawn Game Forum was buzzing with activity.
Many people had already noticed that this game's rollout was anything but normal, suspecting that there was official backing behind it.
At the same time, there were plenty of complaints about the game.
While many players loved it, they also pointed out numerous flaws—slow loading times, a limited skill library, and incomplete PvP maps.
None of these issues were difficult to fix.
But now wasn't the time.
Feng Qi tapped the split-screen function, opening a notepad and jotting down potential improvements for future updates.
An hour later, the little one stirred, rubbing their sleepy eyes before looking up at him with a pout.
"Qi-shu."
Feng Qi ruffled their hair, setting the tablet aside.
"Hungry?"
The little one nodded without hesitation.
So, Feng Qi took them to the Tiger Soul Cafeteria, where they ate a hearty meal before heading back to the training room.
Despite his gentler demeanor, Feng Qi never slacked off when it came to training the child.
As a Sacrificial Line, his lifespan was limited by countless uncontrollable factors.
Surviving hundreds of years was improbable.
As long as he could live long enough to see Mu Yan, he would consider it a victory.
Every time he borrowed abilities from the main timeline, his body suffered another wound.
For now, these injuries weren't obvious, but one day, they would explode all at once.
His only option was to continue unraveling the truth while paving a future for Star City.
And the little one—with their immense potential—had become his top priority for cultivation.
Hand in hand, they walked to the center of the training room.
Feng Qi removed his shirt, revealing his toned, battle-hardened physique.
"Xiao Wen, time for sparring. Attack me with everything you've got."
Hearing this, the little one took a stance five meters away, then—after a moment of hesitation—started taking off their shirt too.
"...Why are you stripping?" Feng Qi asked, bewildered.
"I don't know… it just felt like I should do it too since Qi-shu did," the little one scratched the back of their head, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"You don't need to. Just attack me with all you've got."
"Okay!" The little one nodded immediately, their eyes turning sharp and focused.
Feng Qi's first lesson in real combat had always been—"Focus completely on battle."
Many turnarounds and counter-kills came from an opponent underestimating their enemy.
Absolute concentration was not just a way to win—it was a way to ensure one's own survival.
The little one lunged forward, charging at Feng Qi's left side—but just before reaching him, their left foot stomped the ground abruptly, shifting their momentum toward Feng Qi's right leg instead.
Seeing them feint, Feng Qi grinned, effortlessly sidestepping the attack.
But the little one reacted instantly, twisting midair to adjust their landing—as soon as their feet touched the ground, they pounced again.
Feng Qi never counterattacked—he simply dodged, over and over.
For an entire hour, the little one attacked with all their might, only to miss every single strike.
Finally, they collapsed onto the floor, their face flushed red, chest heaving for breath. Sweat poured down their body, drenching their clothes.
"Go shower," Feng Qi ordered. "You have ten minutes to rest after that—then we continue training."
The little one nodded obediently, then scurried off toward the bathroom.
Compared to other kids their age, they were already fully capable of taking care of themselves.
Aside from their lack of experience making them seem a bit naïve, the child had no real flaws.
Half an hour later, the little one came dashing out of the bathroom, his tiny legs carrying him at full speed. The moment he passed Feng Qi, a gust of wind followed, and he leaped onto the couch.
After quickly changing into a custom-made loose martial arts uniform, he turned to Feng Qi with a sweet smile.
"Qi-shu, I'm done washing up!"
Feng Qi nodded and walked over to sit beside him.
After giving the little one over ten minutes of rest, he picked up the tablet resting on the couch and began today's lesson.
Zhang Daowen was recorded in human history as a universal genius.
That alone proved the little one's potential wasn't limited to martial arts.
He could absolutely nurture the child to become a true all-rounder. Who knew? He might even surpass expectations.
Of course, martial arts would always remain the child's core discipline.
After all, humanity's greatest need was still top-tier combat power.
Feng Qi then started explaining the foundational concepts of cultivation studies.
However, the little one quickly lost interest.
Although he didn't say anything, his once bright, eager eyes dulled after ten minutes, showing faint signs of drowsiness.
Seeing this, Feng Qi felt a pang of guilt.
Was he putting too much pressure on the child?
This force-fed education completely stripped away the joy that should come with growing up.
Glancing at the little one, who was now dozing off and swaying slightly, Feng Qi made a decision in his heart.
Outside of training, he would give the child a proper childhood.
Some people spend their whole lives healing from a painful childhood—like Mu Qing, whose traumatic past had left deep scars on her soul.
But others carry the warmth of childhood with them forever—like Tian Shu, whose happiest days were spent following Mu Yan. Those memories healed him for a lifetime, even though he now endured endless suffering.
Having made up his mind, Feng Qi glanced at the time.
"Xiao Wen, let's go out for a walk."
The little one suddenly opened his eyes and scratched his head in embarrassment.
"Qi-shu, did I fall asleep?"
"It's fine." Feng Qi smiled and ruffled his hair.
Then, he took the little one's hand and led him out of the training room.
"Qi-shu, where are we going?" The little one tilted his head up and asked curiously.
"We're going to stay somewhere else for a few days."
…
Two days later, 9 PM.
Northern outskirts of Star City.
This area was filled with vast fields, one of the few places in Star City that retained its natural landscape.
It was summer, and the fireflies flickered in the fields, glowing softly under the night sky. The sweet scent of watermelon drifted in the air, and the constant chirping of insects blended into the peaceful atmosphere.
This was Feng Qi's old home.
His father once told him that it was where his grandfather had lived.
When his parents were still alive, they would bring him here every year to stay for a while.
There were no noisy streets, just the pure serenity of nature—a part of his childhood.
Now, he planned to let the little one experience the same.
No more endless pressure—just a simple, carefree life for a little while.
At the moment, they were lying on the rooftop of the old house, staring up at the vast starry sky, listening to the chorus of insects in the fields.
"Qi-shu, look! A firefly!"
The little one pointed excitedly at a glowing firefly that had landed on his chest.
His face flushed red with excitement, but he remained completely still, afraid of scaring it away.
Feng Qi chuckled and ruffled his hair again.
But the firefly was startled and flew away—and the little one's expression instantly fell into disappointment.
"Qi-shu, this is all your fault…"
After a brief scuffle, the little one lay sprawled out on the rooftop again, gazing at the sky with renewed enthusiasm.
"Qi-shu, let's go catch crayfish tomorrow! Or maybe we can hunt for crickets. This time, I'll definitely catch a stronger one than you!"
When Feng Qi didn't respond, the little one turned his head—only to find that Feng Qi had already fallen asleep.
For the first time, he saw Feng Qi sleeping without furrowed brows.
Curious, he quietly snuggled closer, resting against Feng Qi's arm.
He didn't want to disturb him.
He simply closed his own eyes and fell asleep as well.
…
In the following days, Feng Qi and the little one ran through the fields, caught crickets in the grass-covered hills, and swam in the river.
These were all pieces of Feng Qi's childhood memories.
And now, the little one's laughter filled these places once more.
"Qi-shu, Xiao Wang from the neighboring farm zone said he wants to be my friend. Am I finally getting a friend?"
"Qi-shu, I caught a huge eel—wait… what? It's a snake?!"
"Qi-shu… I shouldn't have gone with Xiao Wang to steal watermelons… I was wrong… wu wu wu…"
…
When the trip finally ended, and Feng Qi led the little one back to the Tiger Soul Research Institute, the child's eyes were filled with reluctance.
Compared to the high-pressure training environment, this place had given him genuine happiness.
As they were about to leave, Xiao Wang, the neighbor's child, came to see him off.
The little one couldn't hold back anymore—he threw himself into Feng Qi's arms and burst into tears.
Feng Qi comforted him for a long time, promising that they would visit often.
Only then did the little one finally stop crying.
…
Training resumed as usual.
But Feng Qi had made a decision—the child would have a proper childhood.
From then on, every Sunday, he would take the little one to different places—letting him experience the joys of childhood.
The amusement park, the aquarium, the botanical garden…
The little one's laughter filled every corner of these places.
…
After two years of training, one morning, Feng Qi woke up to find the little one standing beside his bed with his hands on his hips.
On his head, he wore a homemade mask—designed after his favorite hero from an animated show.
With a proud expression, he raised his arms and shouted:
"Qi-shu! Mist-shu said my strength just broke through to Silver Rank! Happy birthday!"