The massive flat-screen TV on the wall of the West Wing displayed a global feed.
It was the most watched broadcast in human history.
Chen Xiao, the newly minted "God of War," sat on a raised dais in the center of the Forbidden City. He was wearing a fresh, blood-red robe that matched the unsettling glow in his eyes.
He looked strong. His muscles bulged with a visible, vibrating power. But to a trained eye, he looked... pressurized.
"The path to the Peak," Chen Xiao rasped into the microphone, his voice booming with unnecessary force, "is not for the weak."
He held up a hand. The air around it distorted, crackling with static electricity.
"To reach Level 9, one must destroy oneself. I tore my meridians apart. I boiled my own blood. I forced the energy of the heavens into a vessel that refused it."
The camera zoomed in on his face. Veins were throbbing in his temples, looking like black worms under his skin.
"Only those with the Raging Lion bloodline... only those with the Chen family's iron will... can survive this crucible. The rest of you? You are sheep. Stay in the valley."
The crowd cheered. They worshipped the brutality. They saw the bloodshot eyes and the trembling hands not as symptoms of damage, but as badges of honor.
[Skyview Manor]
Lin Hao muted the TV.
He sat on his plush leather sofa, a cup of jasmine tea steaming gently in his hand.
He took a sip. The tea was hot, fragrant, and perfect.
He lowered the cup and looked at his own hand.
He didn't need to "flex" to show power. His skin was smooth, calm, and emitted a soft, warm glow that felt like sunlight. There were no bulging veins. No leaking static. No "boiling blood."
His Level 9: Perfect Foundation was a closed loop. A masterpiece of efficiency.
"He didn't break through," Lin Hao whispered, analyzing the old man on the screen. "He just broke."
He understood what had happened.
The Chen Ancestor had tried to force a high-pressure system (Level 9) using low-grade fuel (Earth's thin, dirty Reiki and unstable Spirit Stones). The result was a dirty engine.
Chen Xiao was leaking Qi like a sieve. Every breath he took wasted energy. He had to constantly exert "iron will" just to keep his own body from exploding. He wasn't a god; he was a walking nuclear reactor with a cracked containment vessel.
"If I fought him," Lin Hao mused, "I wouldn't even need to attack. I'd just have to dodge for five minutes until he burned himself out."
The tragedy was that the world didn't know. They saw the fireworks and thought it was power.
And worse, Chen Xiao was telling the world that this was the only way. That pain and self-destruction were the requirements for strength.
"They're going to kill themselves trying to copy him," Lin Hao realized.
Without the System, or without a Middle Spiritual Plane environment that allowed for natural, smooth breakthroughs, anyone who tried to force Level 9 would end up crippled or dead.
Lin Hao set his tea down.
The "World's Strongest Man" was a fraud. A powerful, dangerous fraud, but a fraud nonetheless.
He checked his balance. [Upgrade Points (UP): 6,452,710].
He looked at the Planar Ascension button that cost 10 million.
"I have to fix the sky," Lin Hao said, looking at the distorted atmosphere around the Chen Ancestor on the screen. "Because if I don't, these idiots are going to tear the world apart trying to climb a ladder that's missing half its rungs."
He stood up. The contrast was clear.
Flawed vs. Perfect. Desperation vs. Engineering. Chen Xiao vs. Lin Hao.
And in two days, when Lin Hao hit his 10 million mark, he would show them what a real god looked like.