Old Jack might have been a big shot in Holy Spirit Village, but here in the city, he was just another old man with a simple coat and a hopeful smile. He understood his place.
As for Tang San and Arthev? Let's just say their financial situation was… humble. Between having an alcoholic blacksmith for a father and barely scraping together enough food every day, Tang San was just grateful to have clothes on his back.
Fashion? That was a luxury for another lifeti.
Even when the gatekeeper scolded them like they had just wandered in from a pig farm, Old Jack didn't lose his temper. Instead, he put on his friendliest elder smile and spoke with the patience of a saint.
"Little brother, we're from Holy Soul Village," he explained.
"These two boys are this year's working-study students. Would you mind letting us know if there are any other procedures we need to complete?"
The concierge snorted, crossing his arms as he gave them a once-over.
"Holy Soul Village? You an Beggars' Village? With how poor you lot look, you really think you can beco soul masters?"
He scoffed. "Our academy hasn't accepted working-study students for years. Are you trying to scam ?"
Arthev could already feel the dramatic tension rising.
Tang San, anwhile, had heard enough. Without a word, he reached behind his back, and when his hand reappeared, a small, deadly contraption glead between his fingers,his sleeve arrow, prid and ready.
"If you insult us one more ti," Tang San said coldly, "I won't be so polite."
Arthev raised an eyebrow. Well, soone woke up and chose violence today.
Old Jack, however, nearly had a heart attack. "Mistress, don't talk nonsense!" he scolded in a hurry.
Taking a deep breath, Old Jack adjusted his expression and reached into his robe.
"We are not frauds. If you don't believe , take a look at this," he said, pulling out a neatly folded docunt.
"This is the official martial soul certificate, issued by the Wuhun Palace itself. It proves their eligibility."
The concierge snatched the paper with all the grace of a chicken stealing feed. "Hmph, let's see if this is real or not," he muttered, unfolding it with exaggerated suspicion.
Arthev, who had been quietly standing to the side, felt his irritation bubbling. He wasn't normally one to get riled up over petty nonsense, but this guy was just asking for it.
Unfortunately, throwing a wooden shuriken at his head would probably be considered assault, so he restrained himself.
Patience, he told himself. Just a little longer. The so-called 'master of invincible theory' should be coming out soon.
anwhile, the concierge's eyes scanned the docunt, and his frown deepened.
It was real.
It clearly stated that one of the students had an innate full soul power,a rare talent that should have been respected.
But instead of backing down, the concierge's face twisted in disbelief.
"Tch! Blue Silver Grass? Everyone knows that's a useless martial soul!" he barked.
"And you're telling this kid has full soul power? I think you an full of lies!"
With a dramatic huff, he tossed the certificate back at Old Jack like it was yesterday's garbage.
No matter how patient Old Jack was, a flicker of frustration crossed his face. He didn't care that they insulted him,but questioning an official Wuhun Palace docunt was an entirely different matter.
"Hmph!"
The concierge sneered, seeing Old Jack's displeasure.
"What? Still don't get it? Even if your little paper is real, I still won't let you in."
Arthev sighed. Ah, the classic 'poor people aren't allowed' excuse. Truly, peak custor service.
The concierge sneered, crossing his arms like he had just single-handedly defeated a Titled Douluo.
"Holy Soul Village? More like Garbage Village! A bunch of beggars dreaming of becoming soul masters? Please. You're probably just here to pick up trash!"
Tang San's eye twitched.
He had just been scolded by Old Jack monts ago, and now this arrogant guard was adding more fuel to the fire. How much was a six-year-old supposed to endure before snapping?
Taking a deep breath, he recalled a core principle of his sect:
"Xuan Tian Bao Lu, Article 5: All disciples of the Tang Sect must not cause trouble easily…"
His fingers twitched as his sleeve arrow prid itself, ready to fire.
"…but if there is an active intruder, I promise to retaliate with thunder."
Tang San's lips curled into a cold smirk. Here, no one can see . If I take him out in one move, no one will ever know…
His fingers tightened around the trigger chanism.
"You have a way to die!" he muttered under his breath.
Arthev, standing beside him, blinked. Wait, did this kid just plot a whole assassination in five seconds?
Before Tang San could put his genius but slightly homicidal plan into action, Old Jack slamd his foot down.
"What did you say?!"
For the first ti, Old Jack's usual friendly elder deanor cracked. His face turned red with fury. Insulting him was one thing. Insulting these kids? Annoying, but manageable.
But insulting Holy Soul Village?
Unforgivable.
Who was Old Jack? The sa man who had once cursed at a Titled Douluo without fear. If not for the fact that these two boys needed to get into school, he would have unleashed a verbal assault so powerful that the guard's ancestors would feel it.
His glare alone made the concierge flinch.
The man instinctively stepped back, a sliver of fear flashing in his eyes before he forced himself to puff out his chest again. Wait, what am I scared of? He's just an old man!
Straightening up, he was about to bark another insult when...
Arthev's Shinragan flickered to life.
With the activation of Arthev's shinragan,
The concierge froze mid-step.
Suddenly, he felt cold iron nails piercing his body, pinning him in place. A sharp, searing pain spread from his limbs, making his entire body tremble. His knees buckled. His breath hitched.
Pain. So much pain.
It was unbearable. It was real.
Except… it wasn't.
From an outsider's perspective, nothing had happened. Arthev had simply blinked
And yet, the concierge's face twisted in agony. His eyes darted around in sheer terror. His legs wobbled. Then....
Plop.
He collapsed onto the ground, shaking like a leaf in the wind. His face was pale. His breathing ragged.
There was even… a faint odor in the air.
Tang San took a cautious step back. "…Did he just pee himself?"
Arthev, as calm as ever, retracted his Shinragan.
Genjutsu: humiliating enemies since ancient tis.
Tang San had already locked onto the concierge's throat with his sleeve arrow, ready to end this man's entire career. But just as he was about to act, sothing bizarre happened....
The concierge collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
His eyes were wide with terror, his limbs stiff as if an invisible force had nailed him to the spot. He gasped for air, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
Old Jack, utterly bewildered, took a cautious step forward. "You, uh... you okay, son?"
The mont Old Jack reached out a hand to help, the concierge violently flinched and scrambled backward, his movents eerily similar to soone trying to escape a ghost.
Not only did he fall again, but in his desperate attempt to retreat, he shoved Old Jack down with him.
"Old man, stay away!" the concierge yelped, as if Old Jack had transford into so vengeful spirit.
Tang San's eyes narrowed. This fool just pushed Old Jack?
A cold glint flickered in Tang San's gaze. If the Tang Sect had a manual on grudges, "pushing down an old man who raised you" would be listed under "Cris Worth Imdiate Execution."
Before he could react, a new voice cut through the tension,
"You guys, what's going on here?"
The voice was hoarse, tired, and filled with the weight of years spent being overlooked and underestimated.
Tang San instinctively straightened. This voice…
Sure enough, standing at the entrance of the academy was none other than Yu Xiaogang.
Short hair, stiff expression, a face that looked like it had been sculpted with a single emotion. Disappointnt.
It was him.
The master of theories, the legendary expert of things he couldn't actually do, the walking encyclopedia of knowledge that got him nowhere in life…
Yu Xiaogang.
Tang San hurriedly retracted his sleeve arrow, pretending like he hadn't just been planning a silent execution.
anwhile, Arthev turned his gaze toward the so-called master. He took one look at his unkempt beard, thick lips, and the aura of a man who had lost all his hopes and dreams.
And barely held back a chuckle.
"This is the great Yu Xiaogang? He looks like he just lost a bet with life and got paid in disappointnt."
At that mont, the concierge, still shaking, crawled toward Yu Xiaogang like a drowned rat spotting dry land.
"Master! Master! You ca just in ti! I.....I was nailed! I swear, I felt iron nails piercing !"
Yu Xiaogang's expression remained as unreadable as a blank scroll. He glanced at the concierge's trouser area and...
Paused.
There it was.
The unmistakable yellow stain of sha.
Yu Xiaogang's face visibly tensed.
He didn't say a word. Didn't even blink. Just… looked at the concierge.
The silence was brutal.
The concierge, realizing he had just confessed to wetting himself in broad daylight, instantly regretted his life choices.
Arthev, feeling a bit bad for him (but also kind of entertained), sighed and stepped forward.
He extended a hand to help the concierge up. "Alright, buddy. You've been through enough embarrassnt for today."
The concierge, still dazed, took Arthev's hand and mumbled, "T...Thank you…"
Arthev shook his head and gestured toward Old Jack. "If you really want to make it up to soone, apologize to him."
The concierge paled. But after everything that had happened, resisting wasn't an option.
Face full of sha, he walked over to Old Jack and bowed deeply.
"Old sir… I...I'm sorry. I was blind."
Old Jack huffed, crossing his arms. "Took you long enough to realize that."
The concierge winced.
Yu Xiaogang, still standing there, let out a long sigh. It was too early in the day for this.
To be continued.....
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