Chapter 15: Thirty-Five Years of Internal Strength

Zuo Meng stopped hiding his movements. He yanked the rope hard, causing the dust powder caught by the hook to drop into his palm.

“Seeking death!”

The guarding strong individual erupted in fury when Zuo Meng ignored his warning and stole the item openly. Three flying knives shot toward Zuo Meng’s face like streaks of cold light, arriving just as his fingers closed around the dust powder.

Having secured his prize, Zuo Meng had no intention of lingering. This was enemy territory with multiple guards—the noise would draw others.

He slapped the rooftop, sending tiles flying to knock away the three knives. Pushing off the eaves, he channeled all his internal energy into his legs. With one light step, he shot forward like an arrow. Tossing broken tiles into the air, he used them as stepping stones when his momentum faltered, leaping again in a manner resembling cloud-walking until he vanished from sight.

By the time guards reached the roof, only a retreating shadow remained.

“Steal from Heifeng Zhai and flee?”

A white-haired Elder Liu in green robes dropped from the third floor onto the stone street below. This was the expert Zuo Meng had feared earlier. The elder didn’t pursue—his duty was defense. Raising his clawed left hand, he condensed dark-gray energy into a swirling orb that exploded with a bang, lifting debris into a hovering force field.

“Air Palm!”

He slashed horizontally. The debris coalesced into a giant stone hand that rocketed toward Zuo Meng with a sonic boom. The crushing blow flattened nearby structures, turning rubble into bullet-like projectiles.

“Monstrous energy!”

Even at this distance, Zuo Meng felt awe. This old man likely possessed sixty years of internal strength—a Liuhe Sect Headmaster. Direct combat meant certain defeat, but escape remained feasible.

“Law!”

Discarding his tools mid-flight, Zuo Meng crushed the porcelain bottle. Dust powder spilled across his palm, its energy instantly absorbed. Energy gathered at his fingertips.

“Modify.”

Law chains materialized as he funneled the energy into his cultivation. His twenty years of internal strength surged by fifteen years within breaths. Whirling around, he channeled thirty-five years’ worth of energy into his right palm and struck back.

Boom!

The collision’s energy wave shattered nearby windows. Using the recoil, Zuo Meng vanished into darkness.

“No farewells?”

Other Heifeng Zhai experts arrived to find a storm-ravaged street.

“Elder Liu, caught the thief?”

“Escaped.”

The green-robed elder left without elaboration. His duty involved protecting the Divine Weapons Pavilion—unaffected by this theft. Letting the thief flee paradoxically highlighted his competence.

“Elders, any losses?”

The manager arrived after Elder Liu’s departure.

“Merely one dust powder bottle,” said Elder Wang, the first responder. “The thief fled when struck by my attack.” The experts spun the narrative—their vigilance had prevented greater losses.

“Only dust powder?”

“Our failure to stop even this shames us,” Elder Wang feigned contrition.

“No blame, Elder Wang.” The manager bowed. “Your efforts minimized damage. I’ll report your merits to the pavilion master.”

Amid mutual flattery, the incident dissolved. A cheap powder’s loss became proof of the guards’ effectiveness.

Zuo Meng slept soundly at an inn, untroubled. As a Liuhe Sect disciple in Liuhe City, suspicion wouldn’t touch him.

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He woke at dawn, puzzled. No Dream World visit? His ability had gaps—dreams weren’t nightly guarantees.

“Keep strengthening. Must reach that elder’s level.”

His master and Junior Sister were trouble magnets. Surviving their protagonist-tier misfortunes required overwhelming power.

“Heifeng Zhai’s dust powder stores are exhausted. Scattered remnants won’t suffice.”

Zuo Meng plotted. Find the powder’s source. Raid it.

One grand heist for permanent gains.

Become the world’s strongest, then retire on the mountain to build his Dream World.

This was Zuo Meng’s path.