Xan Li Fang stood before the imposing structure designated as Apartment Zero, a building that was a chaotic architectural paradox, a visual collision of eras and empires frozen in stone and steel. Massive, bulbous onion domes painted in vibrant swirls of gold and azure—reminiscent of seventeenth-century Russia—crowned a foundation of cold, sharp reinforced concrete and glass that screamed of modern brutalism. It was as if a cathedral from the annals of antiquity had been forcibly fused with a futuristic fortress. "If architectural theory were instructed here, the professor would succumb to immediate cardiac arrest," Xan mused, tilting his head in critique. "However, I did not arrive to critique the masonry; I require power. My priority is not tourism, but survival." Lost in his contemplation, he failed to notice he had already reached the grand entrance until a shadow flickered in his peripheral vision.
"Halt immediately." Xan ceased his forward momentum. From the shadows of the portico, a young man emerged to obstruct his path; he appeared to be approximately nineteen winters, clad in an ensemble that demanded attention. He wore long, flowing robes of deep crimson beneath a strange, rigid cuirass that resembled solidified magma, while his trousers were loose breeches evocative of a nomadic warrior. He exuded an aura of palpable arrogance, his chin elevated as if surveying the world from a celestial height. "Entry is prohibited sans authorization," the red-clad youth declared, crossing his arms in challenge. Xan scrutinized him from crown to sole, his mismatched eyes narrowing. "And what is your identity?" The boy smirked, a playful, mocking glint dancing in his eyes. "Me? Aaa, I am the Inspector of this domicile; I control who enters and who remains external." Xan's expression remained immutable, but his intellect processed the data instantly: Fabrication. His pulse is steady, but his ocular movements are erratic. He seeks provocation.
Without uttering a syllable, Xan stepped around the boy and continued toward the portal, rendering him invisible. The boy's smirk vanished, replaced by a flash of indignation; being treated like atmospheric gas was an insult his ego could not digest. "Hey! I am addressing you! Do not dare to retreat!" ZHOOM. Space contorted violently. One moment the boy was positioned behind him; the next, he materialized directly in Xan's personal space, the air crackling with displaced kinetic energy. "Teleportation Magic..." Xan muttered, his survival instincts screaming. He immediately slid two meters backward, creating a tactical gap. That was not a velocity technique; that was a spatial displacement. "Boy," Xan articulated, his voice dropping to a dangerous, resonant octave. "I possess no knowledge of your identity, but you are trifling with the wrong entity." The atmosphere around Xan grew dense as he unleashed a wave of Killing Intent—cold, sharp, and suffocating. The red-clad youth did not flinch; instead, he grinned, his hunger for violence evident. "Newcomer, it appears you lack etiquette; I shall instruct you on the reverence due to your seniors!"
BAM! The boy did not telegraph his offensive; a fist wrapped in crimson energy shot out, aiming for Xan's temple with lethal intent. It was fast—too fast. Xan barely managed to raise his forearm in a defensive block, but the impact felt like a collision with a sledgehammer. "Ugh!" Xan grunted, skidding three meters backward, his boots carving deep grooves into the stone pavement as his radius throbbed in protest. "Interesting," Xan whispered, shaking out the numbness. The pain clarified his mind; the fatigue of his journey vanished, replaced by the cold, familiar thrill of combat. "You desire to instruct me? Very well. Your wish is granted." He closed his eyes. When they snapped open, the Red and Blue were gone. In his left eye swirled a void of pitch Black; in his right, a blinding White. HUMMMMMM. The atmosphere screamed in protest. Behind Xan, a massive, spectral Yin-Yang Formation materialized, rotating slowly and grinding the natural laws of the vicinity into dust. "Sun Dao: Yin-Yang." Time seemed to freeze as color drained from the world, leaving a monochromatic landscape of black, white, and gray. From the rotating formation, pure energy coalesced—not into a beam, but a blade. A single Yin-Yang Qi Sword manifested, humming with the capacity to sever reality itself. "Go."
The sword vanished; it did not traverse space, it simply arrived. The red-clad youth's eyes widened in horror as his instincts screamed Mortality! He did not think; his body moved on pure, desperate reflex, kicking off the ground and twisting mid-air to perform an indirect evasion. SWISH! The Qi Sword sliced the air where his jugular had been a microsecond prior, severing a lock of crimson hair. He landed on the pavement, panting, beads of cold perspiration forming on his brow. What was that velocity?! Xan watched him calmly, raising a single finger. "You possess commendable reflexes," Xan stated, his voice echoing with a distorted, metallic resonance. "You can evade a solitary blade... but can you evade a century?" Xan's hand shifted, his fingers dancing in a complex mudra. "Moon Dao: Yin-Yang Multiplication." The red-clad boy froze. "Wait... that stance... Only the Sword Lord could execute arts of that magnitude! And he is a Second Step cultivator! This individual... is a catastrophe. Had I known he was a monster, I would never have provoked him!"
Before the boy could conclude his internal panic, reality bent. The single sword vibrated and fractured; one became ten, ten became fifty, fifty became one hundred. One hundred razor-sharp blades of monochromatic energy hovered in the air, a steel forest of judgment aimed at the boy's thorax. "A century might be insufficient," Xan mused cruelly. "Let us escalate to a millennium." SHING-SHING-SHING-SHING! The sky above the courtyard was blotted out as a thousand swords filled the air. "Merge." Xan clenched his fist. The thousand swords did not rain down; instead, they rushed toward a singularity, colliding and fusing with a deafening roar of energy. In seconds, a colossal Great Sword of Yin and Yang, twenty meters in length, hung suspended above the boy—a monolith of destruction. Xan looked up at his creation, recalling the texts he had studied in the Dream Space. "Time to test the hypothesis," he whispered, beginning to chant with the weight of an ancient edict. "The Earth is insignificant as an insect... The Heavens are merely a droplet of rain... The Sky is the Order... But I... I am the Law."
Xan pointed a finger of judgment at the trembling youth. "In the name of the Law... genuflect." BOOM! The Great Sword descended slowly; it did not need to make physical contact. The sheer pressure—the Law of Heaven and Earth contained within the blade—slammed into the ground. "ARGHHH!" The red-clad youth screamed as an invisible mountain crushed him, forcing him to his knees and then face-first into the pavement, unable to twitch a muscle as the stone beneath him cracked and subsided. He couldn't breathe; his skeletal structure groaned under the weight of the Dao. Xan watched him struggle for a moment, then flicked his wrist. The massive sword dissolved into particles of light, and the crushing pressure vanished instantly. Xan looked down at the gasping boy, his eyes returning to their natural Red and Blue. "Next time, little boy, be aware of whom you address," Xan said coldly. "This was the inaugural lesson, and the final warning; the next time you obstruct my path... will be your terminus."
The boy scrambled backward, face pale, terror written in his dilated pupils. He stumbled to his feet, coughing violently. "You... whomever you are..." the boy stammered, retreating. "You may be potent, but you cannot defeat my Master! Just wait! When the Sword Lord hears of this, we shall see how you defend yourself!" With that threat hanging in the air, he turned and sprinted away, utilizing a movement technique to vanish around the corner. "Hmph. Let him approach," Xan muttered. "If he comes, we shall see." He did not spare the fleeing boy another glance, turning to push open the heavy doors of Apartment Zero. The interior was just as confusing as the exterior—vaulted stone ceilings clashing with neon illumination—but Xan was indifferent. He located the corridor marked "50-60" and found Room 54. Unlocking the door, he stepped into a simple, dusty, but functional room. Walking straight to the bed on the left, he collapsed onto it without removing his boots. "Finally... repose," he groaned, sinking into the mattress. "That offensive maneuver... it drained nearly half my Qi reserves; the Law of Heaven and Earth is too taxing for my current physiology..." His eyelids grew heavy as the adrenaline faded, leaving only a bone-deep exhaustion. "So fatigued..." Within seconds, the respiration of the mysterious new student of Department Zero slowed into the deep, rhythmic cadence of slumber.