Jiang Fan woke up standing.
That was the first bad sign. He hated standing.
The second bad sign was that his hand was wet. Sticky and warm.
He blinked, shaking off the grogginess of what felt like a very deep, very intense power nap. He looked down at his right hand.
He was gripping a massive, pulsing beast heart. It was the size of a watermelon.
"Gross," Jiang Fan muttered, dropping the organ onto the grass. He wiped his hand on his robe (which immediately cleaned itself thanks to the talisman).
He looked around.
The peaceful clearing where he had set up his bed was gone. In its place was a crater. Trees had been snapped in half like toothpicks. The ground was scorched.
And directly beneath his feet lay the Iron-Hide Bear.
The Stage 5 monster—a beast that could tank hits from a ballista—was dead. But it wasn't just dead; it had been surgically dismantled. Its massive paws were severed cleanly at the joints. Its throat had a single, precise puncture wound.
There were no wasted cuts. No messy struggles. Just cold, mathematical efficiency.
"System," Jiang Fan asked, looking at the mountain of fur he was standing on. "What did you do?"
A blue log scrolled rapidly across his vision.
[ BATTLE REPORT: AUTO-MODE ][ Duration: 00:00:14 ][ Enemies Defeated: 1 (Stage 5 Iron-Hide Bear) ][ Damage Taken: 0 ][ Techniques Used: ]
Calculated Dodge (x4)Lethal Strike: Carotid Artery (Crit)Brutal Dismemberment (to disable movement)
[ Summary: Threat Neutralized with 99.8% Efficiency. ][ XP Gained: +2,000 ]
"Fourteen seconds?" Jiang Fan whistled. "Not bad. But you ruined my bed setup."
He looked over to the side. The Sloth's Coffin was folded up neatly against a tree, untouched.
And next to the bed sat Fatty Wu.
Fatty Wu was not okay.
The round-faced disciple was curled into a fetal ball, rocking back and forth. His face was pale as a sheet. He was staring at Jiang Fan with eyes wide enough to fall out of his head.
"Wu?" Jiang Fan waved a hand. "You alive?"
Fatty Wu flinched violently. "D-Don't kill me! I'm efficient! I have high nutritional value! No, wait, low nutritional value! I'm mostly cholesterol!"
Jiang Fan frowned. "Wu, snap out of it. It's me."
Wu slowly uncurled, looking at Jiang Fan's face. He seemed to be checking for something.
"Are... are your eyes back to normal?" Wu whispered trembling.
"My eyes?"
"They were red," Wu swallowed hard, standing up on shaky legs. "Brother Jiang, when that bear attacked... you stood up. But it wasn't you. You didn't breathe. You didn't blink. You looked at that bear like it was... a math problem."
Wu shuddered, pointing at the bear corpse. "The bear roared. You just... walked through its claws. You moved like a ghost. You ripped its heart out before it even hit the ground. I've never seen anything so scary in my life."
Jiang Fan scratched his head. Note to self: Auto-Battle Mode is scary. Use sparingly.
"It was a secret technique," Jiang Fan lied smoothly. "The 'Trance of the Asura'. I can't control it well. Let's just... never speak of this again."
"Agreed," Wu nodded vigorously. "Never."
"Good. Now, help me loot this thing. This bear skin is worth a fortune. Maybe I can make a rug out of it."
One Hour Later.
The extraction point for the Outer Disciples was buzzing with noise.
Dozens of groups had gathered at the edge of the forest. Most looked battered and bloody. Some were carrying injured comrades.
In the center of the crowd, Zhao Feng was holding court. He had a bandage wrapped around his broken nose (from Chapter 3), but he looked triumphant. At his feet lay the corpses of three Wind Wolves.
"It was a tough battle," Zhao Feng bragged loudly to a group of female disciples. "But my Sword Art is impeccable. I struck the Alpha Wolf down with a single blow!"
"Wow, Senior Brother Zhao is so strong!" "Three wolves! That's thirty contribution points!"
Deacon Wang stood nearby, nodding approvingly. "Good work, Zhao Feng. You are leading the pack. Has anyone else returned?"
"Just the trash," Zhao Feng sneered, looking at the forest edge. "Jiang Fan and his fat pig probably hid in a bush the whole time. If they didn't get eaten."
CRUNCH. DRAG. CRUNCH.
A heavy, rhythmic sound echoed from the treeline.
The chatter died down. Everyone turned to look.
Emerging from the shadows was Fatty Wu. He was sweating profuesly, pulling a rope over his shoulder.
Behind him, dragging along the ground, was a massive, dark shape.
"Heave! Ho!" Wu grunted.
Jiang Fan walked beside him, hands in his pockets, looking bored. He wasn't carrying anything.
"Is that..." Deacon Wang squinted.
Wu gave one final tug, pulling the carcass into the sunlight of the clearing.
It was the Iron-Hide Bear. It was so big that its head alone was the size of Zhao Feng's torso.
Silence. Absolute silence.
The disciples looked at the three pathetic wolves at Zhao Feng's feet. Then they looked at the mountain of meat behind Jiang Fan.
"Is it dead?" someone whispered.
"No, I'm taking it for a walk," Jiang Fan said dryly. "Wu, park it over there."
Deacon Wang's clipboard fell out of his hand. He rushed over, his eyes bulging.
"Stage... Stage 5?" The Deacon touched the bear's fur. "This is an Iron-Hide Bear. It takes a team of Elders to hunt this! How... Who killed this?"
"We found it," Jiang Fan yawned. "It tripped and fell on its own claws. Very clumsy animal."
He pointed to the surgically precise hole in the throat.
"Tripped?" Deacon Wang choked. "On its throat?"
"It was a freak accident. Nature is scary." Jiang Fan walked past the stunned Deacon. "Anyway, does this count for the quota? I'd like to go back to my dorm. I missed my afternoon nap."
The Aftermath (Inner Sect)
While the Outer Sect was in chaos over the bear, the news traveled up the mountain fast.
In the Frost Forge Pavilion, Gu Ling was examining a new shipment of materials.
"Senior Sister!" A servant ran in, breathless. "The results of the Culling are in. That boy... Jiang Fan..."
"What did he do?" Gu Ling didn't look up. "Sleep through the exam?"
"He brought back a Stage 5 Iron-Hide Bear. Solo kill."
Gu Ling's hand froze. The metal bar she was bending snapped in half.
"Stage 5?" She turned her wheelchair around. "He is Stage 4. That's impossible. Unless..."
She remembered the way he had dodged her daggers. Instinct. Perfect movement.
"He didn't just dodge," she realized, a thrill of excitement running through her. "He attacked. If his offense is as perfect as his defense..."
She looked at the broken metal bar in her hand.
"He's not just a lazy genius," she whispered. "He's a weapon. And I need to see him fight for real."
She turned to the servant.
"Prepare the Sect Tournament registration," she commanded. "I'm using my Elder Authority to give a special invitation."
"Who are you inviting, Senior Sister?"
Gu Ling smiled, a cold, predatory smile.
"Jiang Fan. Put him in the main bracket against the Inner Disciples. Let's see how long he can sleep when he's in the ring with the best."