The sun had set by the time Jiang Chen returned to District 9. The neon lights of the upper city didn't reach down here; the slums were lit by flickering halogen streetlamps and the glow of burning trash barrels.
Jiang Chen locked the triple-deadbolt on his apartment door. Safety was an illusion in the slums, but habit was hard to break.
He sat on his bed and pulled out the ceramic bottle he had won from Wang Teng. He uncorked it. A spicy, metallic scent filled the room.
Tier-1 Blood Vitality Pills.
"These things cost two months of my living expenses," Jiang Chen whispered.
He tipped the bottle. Three crimson pills rolled into his palm. Without hesitation, he popped one into his mouth.
It didn't taste like medicine; it tasted like hot pepper and iron. As it dissolved, a rush of heat exploded in his stomach, radiating outward to his limbs. The fatigue from the duel evaporated. More importantly, the dull throb in his temples—the warning sign of an exhausted soul—vanished instantly.
"My mind is clear," Jiang Chen noted, his eyes sharpening. "The pill didn't just heal my body; the excess vitality is stabilizing my spirit."
He didn't waste time. He lay back, closed his eyes, and let his consciousness sink.
The Myriad Heaven's Grave.
The smell of rust and ozone hit him again. Jiang Chen materialized on the blood-soaked earth of the Mortal Dust Battlefield.
The gray mist swirled around him. In the distance, he could see the wandering silhouettes of the weak Sword Sect disciples—the "mobs" he had farmed yesterday.
"I don't need them anymore," Jiang Chen muttered.
Those level 4 ghosts gave diminishing returns. To break through to the 6th Stage (Steel Bone Phase), he needed high-quality energy. He needed an Elite.
He gripped his spectral fists and walked deeper into the mist.
The pressure grew heavier. The wind here sounded like weeping. After walking for what felt like ten minutes, the terrain changed. The flat plains gave way to a field of broken stone pillars.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Heavy footsteps vibrated through the ground.
Jiang Chen hid behind a shattered column. Peeking out, he saw his target.
It wasn't a skinny swordsman. This Remnant Will was massive—easily seven feet tall. It wore the cracked breastplate of a heavy infantryman. Its arms were as thick as tree trunks, and it dragged a massive, rusted war hammer behind it.
[Target Identified]
[Enemy: Remnant Will of a Giant Hammer Sect Deacon]
[Cultivation: Body Tempering 6th Stage (Peak)]
[Threat Level: High]
"Peak 6th Stage," Jiang Chen calculated. "He's in the Steel Bone Phase. My punches might not even bruise him."
But the reward...
A Deacon-level ghost would possess stronger techniques and richer cultivation energy.
"Speed against power," Jiang Chen breathed out. "Let's dance."
He stepped out from behind the pillar.
"Hey, ugly!"
The Giant Hammer Deacon stopped. Its head snapped toward Jiang Chen. Unlike the blank swordsmen, there was a flicker of rage in this ghost's blue-fire eyes.
"ROAR!"
The ghost didn't speak human language; it just bellowed a war cry that shook Jiang Chen's bones. It hoisted the massive war hammer—which must have weighed 500kg—as if it were a twig.
Whoosh!
The ghost charged. It was surprisingly fast for its size, barreling toward him like a runaway tank.
Jiang Chen didn't panic. He lowered his center of gravity.
The hammer swung horizontally, aiming to turn Jiang Chen into paste.
Flowing Wind Sword Steps.
Jiang Chen dropped to his knees, sliding under the swing. The wind pressure from the hammer ruffled his hair.
Boom!
The hammer smashed into a stone pillar behind him, obliterating it into dust.
"Hard target," Jiang Chen gritted his teeth.
He popped up behind the ghost and delivered a full-power roundhouse kick to the back of its knee.
Bang!
It felt like kicking a solid steel beam. Jiang Chen's shin throbbed with pain. The ghost barely stumbled.
"Steel Bone Phase," Jiang Chen cursed, backing away rapidly. "His bones are harder than rock. Blunt force won't work."
The Deacon spun around, swinging the hammer in a downward arc.
Jiang Chen sidestepped. The hammer cracked the ground, sending shards of rock flying. One shard grazed Jiang Chen's cheek, drawing spiritual blood.
I can't trade blows. I need to penetrate his defense.
Jiang Chen's eyes scanned the ghost. The armor covered the chest and back. The bones were hardened. But the joints... specifically the neck vertebrae.
The ghost roared again, raising the hammer for a massive overhead smash.
"That's it," Jiang Chen's eyes lit up. "Overcommitment."
When the hammer was at the apex of its swing, the ghost's chest was exposed, and its neck was stretched.
Jiang Chen didn't dodge away this time. He lunged in.
He channeled all his Qi into his right hand. He didn't make a fist. He pressed his fingers together, shaping his hand into a spearhead.
Federation Military Style: Piercing Strike.
But he combined it with the momentum of the Sword Steps.
The hammer came down. Jiang Chen stepped inside the devastating arc, the handle of the weapon missing his nose by an inch.
He launched himself upward.
"Break!"
His spear-hand struck the ghost's throat—right where the helmet met the breastplate.
CRACK.
The sound of fracturing spiritual bone echoed.
The Deacon froze. The blue fire in its eyes flickered violently. It dropped the hammer. It clawed at its throat, but the structure holding its spiritual form together had been severed.
With a silent wail, the massive body collapsed and dissolved into a storm of light.
Jiang Chen landed on the ground, panting heavily. His right hand was trembling uncontrollably; striking the Steel Bone ghost had nearly fractured his own fingers.
"That was close," he gasped. "If I was a split second slower, I'd be a pancake."
[Victory.]
[Target Destroyed: Giant Hammer Sect Deacon.]
[Plundering...]
The cloud of light was twice as big as the ones from the swordsmen. It surged into Jiang Chen.
BOOM!
The heat was overwhelming. It felt like lava pouring into his veins.
In the real world, Jiang Chen's body arched on the bed. His bones emitted a grinding sound, growing denser, heavier. The impurities in his marrow were incinerated by the pure energy.
[Cultivation Breakthrough!]
[Current Realm: Body Tempering 6th Stage (Early Phase).]
He had entered the Steel Bone Phase.
But the notifications didn't stop.
[Loot Obtained: 5 Years of Cultivation Base.]
[Rare Drop Detected.]
[Item Acquired: Cold-Iron Heavy Sword (Broken).]
"Item?" Jiang Chen sat up in the spiritual world.
A heavy object materialized in his hands.
It was a sword. But not a sleek, elegant one. It was a black slab of metal, wide as a palm and heavy as a tombstone. The top half was snapped off, leaving a jagged edge about three feet long. Even broken, it radiated a chilling coldness.
[Cold-Iron Heavy Sword (Damaged)]
[Grade: Low-Tier Black Grade Artifact]
[Effect: Weighs 300kg. The blade is naturally cold, slowing enemy Qi circulation upon contact.]
"A Black Grade Artifact..." Jiang Chen's eyes widened.
In the Federation, even a Yellow Grade weapon cost 50,000 Credits. A Black Grade? That was something only Elite Class students or Military Officers possessed.
"System, can I take this out?"
[Affirmative. Materializing in Reality.]
Jiang Chen's vision blurred.
Real World. The Apartment.
Jiang Chen woke up with a start. He felt heavy.
Lying across his lap was the black, broken sword. It was real. The cold metal chilled his skin through his pants.
He gripped the handle and lifted it.
"Heavy!"
It weighed 300kg. For a normal human, it was immovable. For Jiang Chen, who was now at the 6th Stage, it was heavy but manageable.
He stood up, swinging the broken blade. The air whooshed with a deep, menacing sound.
"It's broken, so it lacks reach," Jiang Chen analyzed, swinging it again. "But it's basically a bladed mace. If I hit Wang Teng with this, his Iron Palm would shatter."
He looked at the clock. It was 4:00 AM.
He had broken through to the 6th Stage and obtained a Black Grade weapon.
"The Mock Exam is in two days," Jiang Chen said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He looked at the reflection in the black blade. "Wang Teng's brother... the Qi Gathering Realm... I might actually have a chance."
He stored the sword under his bed—he would need to buy a weapon bag to carry it publicly—and sat back down.
He still had two pills left.
"Sleep is for the weak," Jiang Chen muttered, popping the second pill. "Back to the grind."
The ghost of the Deacon was gone, but the map showed a flickering light further in the distance. A red light.
Something was waiting in the center of the Mortal Dust Battlefield.
And Jiang Chen was hungry