After the "Taboo Feast", the base hummed with renewed activity. Katie led the girls to the Virtual Combat Room for a brutal evaluation.
Dodge and Luther vanished into thin air, presumably starting their mysterious "Muscle Cultivation."
Meanwhile, Victor wandered the base, his pockets heavy with his newly acquired "massive fortune." He was itching to spend, but he quickly realized that aside from weapon upgrades, there was absolutely no place for leisure or luxury.
His heroic desire to squander money had nowhere to go.
Lawson walked through the corridor toward the Armor Forge. Passing the Weapon Forge, he paused to look at the sign.
The words of the missing Weapon Master, Buck, echoed in his mind.
"The sign is finally lit..." Lawson whispered, his gaze deep. "Buck, I'll hold down the fort for you. I hope you make it back alive one day to reclaim this Manager Key."
At the same time, Katie and her disciples stood before the Virtual Combat Room. Stepping inside felt like stepping into a futuristic masterpiece of minimalism.
The space was a geometric blend of matte charcoal and ice-white, outlined by flowing neon-blue light strips.
The center was a completely vacant composite floor; no visible equipment existed, as every sensor was embedded within the walls.
The only interface was a semi-transparent OLED panel floating in mid-air.
"Get ready. The test begins now."
Katie's fingers swiped across the panel. Instantly, the walls and floor transformed into a seamless digital canvas.
Code reassembled, light and shadow shifted, and within seconds, the environment perfectly replicated their first mission site—even the smell of scorched earth was simulated.
"Link Armors! Fight, girls! I'll be monitoring your real-time data from here."
"Yes, Master!"
The three girls pulled out their phones. With a crisp sync sound, metallic light flowed over them. They charged into the simulated enemy ranks while Katie activated [Eye of Omnipotence].
In her vision, the girls were no longer just fighters; they were jumping coordinates and power curves.
She looked for the tiniest flaws, intent on polishing their combat into a lethal art form.
In the open field behind the base, the dull sound of physical impact rang out.
"Baseline combat test! Let's see the quality of 'Grandmaster Lee Yip's Grandson'!"
Dodge let out a roar.
His massive frame charged like a tank, his fist whistling through the air as it aimed for Luther. Luther gritted his teeth, planting his feet in a horse stance to absorb the blow.
BANG!
Though he blocked it, Luther's guard lacked technique.
The sheer, overwhelming force shattered his center of gravity, and he collapsed backward, landing ignobly on his rear.
"You're a direct descendant and you can't even take one hit?" Dodge retracted his fist, surprised.
"Actually..." Luther rubbed his bruised arms, looking ashamed. "I grew up overseas. I rarely saw my grandfather, only visiting him a few times during holidays."
"What about your father? Surely he learned the secrets?"
"My father... hates martial arts." Luther's gaze dropped.
"When my grandmother was ill, my grandfather was too obsessed with training to notice. She passed away because she didn't get treatment in time. My father never forgave him."
"I see..." Dodge sighed and pulled Luther up. But the moment their skin touched, Dodge's expression changed.
Luther's arms felt frail; he lacked necessary muscle support. He was as light as a sheet of paper.
A red flag went up in Dodge's mind—this physique could never handle a high-output armor load.
He immediately mapped out a "Hell Plan" centered on explosive muscle gain.
"With a frame like this, you can't even talk about technique! I used to be a professional fitness coach—I'll make sure you grow eight-pack abs that'll make the world jealous!"
"Thank you, Master! I'll work hard! Where do we start?"
"Start by fixing your weight! We're going to the Canteen. You need massive amounts of protein—no grease, no starch!"
Dodge grabbed Luther by the collar and dragged him away.
"Squats, deadlifts, and crunches are your new best friends. Welcome to Hell Week, Abs-Cadet! Wahahaha!"
Back at the Armor Forge's reception counter...
"What are these curves? What does this value even represent? God, did Katie deal with this brain-melting data every day?"
Lawson sat behind the desk, staring at complex spreadsheets with a look of existential dread.
He was a master of Armor Link, but administrative data was his kryptonite.
"BROTHER LAWSON! HELP! SAVE ME!"
Victor swirled into the room like a tornado, slamming his phone onto the counter.
"Victor? What's the drama now?"
"Look, Brother! Open your eyes and look!"
Lawson squinted. The [E-Wallet] tab displayed a blinding: 10,500 LP.
"You're loaded. You're practically middle-class now. Why are you crying?"
"I have the money! I have the cores! But I can't spend it!" Victor wailed, opening his [Armors Tech Tree] Tab.
Aside from his Level 5 starter set, every high-tier model was a dull, locked gray.
"I have the kingdom but no queen! I have no crafting materials! Brother Lawson, show me the way! Where can I grind for high-tier loot?"
"Ah, the tragedy of the rich man with nothing to buy," Lawson stroked his chin. "That does itch more than being poor."
"Excuse me. Mr. Lawson, I'd like to inquire about materials as well."
George's cold, emotionless voice cut in.
"George? Even you are 'material-starved'?" Lawson was surprised.
"New gear?"
"I want to craft the Mana-Storage Halberd-Staff."
"Ooh, a rare one." Lawson's eyes lit up. "A hybrid of a halberd and a staff. Stores high-tier spells and handles close-quarters piercing. What, are you becoming a 'Physical Exorcism' Mage?"
"I need to cover the fatal defensive gap during my chants. Where are the materials?"
Two desperate men now stared at Lawson like disciples waiting for a divine prophecy. Lawson cleared his throat, entering his "Scholar Mode."
"There are three core components: Weapon Core C, the Priest's Insight, and the Brutes Chieftain's Blood Halberd."
Lawson looked at George. "You have the Insight in stock, right?"
"Yes. One left. So I just need the Core and this Chieftain?"
"The Weapon Core is easy—just synthesize a Power Core C and an Enhancement Core C at the Weapon Forge. The problem," Lawson's tone turned grim, "is the Blood Halberd. It's a guaranteed drop from the Brutes Chieftain, but that guy is no joke."
"He's a B-Rank Elite. High HP, high Defense, and a disgusting 'Frenzy Aura' that buffs his minions. And he never travels alone—he's always surrounded by a D-Rank Brutes Infantry Battalion."
"If I have a meat shield to pull aggro and create space, I can chant a Wide-Area Forbidden Spell to wipe them out," George said, his eyes suddenly darting to Victor.
The gaze said it all: You look like a suitable meat shield.
"No! My D-rank armor is like wet tissue paper against a B-Rank Elite!" Victor waved his hands frantically.
"I know you can't tank it, idiot,"
George added mercilessly, crushing Victor's last bit of pride.
"Then why are you looking at me!?"
"Just looking. No reason."
Victor nearly spat blood in frustration. George turned back to Lawson.
"What about {Tiger Soul} or {Moon Swift}?"
"Katie's in Hell Training with the girls. As for Dodge... he's off doing 'Muscle Training' somewhere. Only God knows where," Lawson sighed.
George turned to leave, his face dark.
"If the tanks are gone, the plan is dead."
"... My materials... my path to greatness..." Victor sank into a weird, sobbing heap.
Amidst the gloom.
Lawson suddenly shut off his monitor and let out a long, loud stretch. His bones cracked like dry wood.
"Alright, administrative work is finally sorted." He stood up, a strange, arrogant tension radiating from him.
"Since there's no one else... let's go. Target: Brutes Chieftain!"