MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 442: Curiousity

Anthonyʼs thoughts trembled at Colonel Vazerythʼs final words.

His gaze shifted to Zhyravel.

A man capable of crafting cultivation manuals for the pinnacle figures of the world was anything but ordinary.

To have done so for nine individuals of such stature, each one meticulously tailored to their unique essence, was nothing short of madness.

The knowledge alone was staggering.

The time, immense.

The intellect, unparalleled.

And the sheer madness, unthinkable.

It also implied something even more astounding: the Nine Supreme Monarchs had permitted Zhyravel to examine their bodies, at least to some extent, in order to craft such personalized cultivation manuals.

After all, how could one forge something so precise without first understanding the very essence of the individual it was meant for?

Creating cultivation manuals of such caliber demanded far more than time, knowledge, or intellect.

For most, it required a moment of enlightenment, or, at the very least, something akin to it to conceive a manual truly unique, one that transcended the conventional path.

But Zhyravel...

Zhyravel Veylanthar had done it.

Not once.

Not twice.

Nine times.

And he had done so in the span of a single week.

And those were merely the ones Colonel Vazeryth knew of.

What of the others, those he may have created long before his clan was hunted?

How many more bore the imprint of his brilliance, hidden in the shadows of forgotten legends?

But Michael, Collins, and Mitchelle no longer relied on the cultivation manuals Zhyravel had once crafted for them.

After all, the fruit Anthony bestowed upon his family had done far more than simply enhance their cultivation and talent.

It had imparted knowledge, limited, yes, but profound nonetheless, and among that knowledge were cultivation methods uniquely attuned to each of them.

But that wasnʼt the focus now.

Zhyravelʼs grin widened as Anthonyʼs gaze met his.

He knew Anthony wouldnʼt resist.

In his eyes, Anthony couldnʼt resist.

Not because he lacked power.

Not because he lacked wealth.

Not even because of a lack in backing or talent.

But because none of it mattered.

Not in the face of Zhyravelʼs mind.

Not in the shadow of his knowledge.

No one ever turned down a deal he proposed.

You could call it pride.

You could call it arrogance.

But Zhyravel Veylanthar had earned the right to both.

For the first time, Anthonyʼs heart stirred.

He had never been swayed by offers of resources.

Not once.

Not even by the boundless wealth of his own family.

lineage, wealth he had never tapped into.

No one possessed more than he did.

And yet, in this very moment…

Someone had managed to tempt him.

It wasnʼt desire.

It wasnʼt greed.

It was curiosity.

Anthony simply wanted to see what Zhyravel would do.

What technique he would unveil.

What marvel he would present.

It was nothing more… and nothing less… than pure, unfiltered curiosity.

ʼOP System. If I give him a drop of my blood… could he uncover anything from it? Could it be used against me?ʼ

Anthonyʼs voice echoed within the silent space of his mind.

He wasnʼt naive.

Heʼd read far too many novels, stories where a single drop of blood could become the key to a personʼs downfall.

A moment later, a soft chime echoed.

[Ding]

[Affirmative. Under normal circumstances, he could, given that the Host possesses the Primordial Bloodline. However, the system has always ensured that any tissue departing the Hostʼs body, be it blood, hair, or nails, is cleansed of all connections to the Host. No biological trace remains. Nothing can be used against the Host]

The response came swift and absolute.

Anthony allowed himself a subtle, mental smile.

That meant even if he handed Zhyravel a drop of blood, it would reveal nothing.

Not his DNA.

Not his essence.

Not a single secret.

Even if someone were to snatch a strand of his hair while he slept, it would be useless.

And more importantly, no one could ever launch an attack on him through blood rites, essence tracking, or any form of binding.

ʼThis is basically getting a cultivation manual for freeʼ

Anthony mused, his face a mask of calm, though a quiet smile danced in his mind.

After all, Zhyravel would find nothing in his blood.

No secrets. No trace. Nothing.

He was just about to open his mouth, to agree to Zhyravelʼs proposition, when his system chimed again.

[Ding]

[??? has stepped in]

[Well, well… Itʼs been a while. Hooo… Seems someoneʼs very eager to replace his cultivation manual. I suppose mine was never enough, huh?]

Anthony froze.

The words caught in his throat.

The mental smile vanished.

The room suddenly felt heavier to him, as if something ancient, unseen, and watching had awakened.

When had ??? last made his presence known?

It had been so long, yet now he was stepping in as if he had just returned from some leisurely vacation.

ʼYou misunderstand. Iʼm simply curiousʼ

Anthony immediately clarified, his thoughts calm but laced with an undercurrent of caution.

After all, ??? had given him a girlfriend.

What if he decided to take that gift back?

Anthony hadnʼt even had the chance to meet her yet.

[Curious, huh? What is there to be curious about? Your Primordial Bloodline grants you Divine Intelligence. You could craft whatever he creates while asleep]

Anthony was at a loss for words.

He had never been much of a researcher, he was far more content with swinging his blade or spending money online than delving into the intricacies of knowledge.

But then, a thought struck him.

ʼAre you… jealous?ʼ

He asked, the question slipping into his mind before he could stop it.

[...]

The communication mode shifted abruptly.

[Ding]

[??? says that he does not experience such emotions, as he is a being that predates existence itself. He is an uncaused entity]

Anthony simply gazed at the system notification, his mind amused.

ʼWho knew ??? was a jealous being?ʼ

He thought, a mental chuckle escaping him.

[??? says that he has other matters to attend to and will be changing channels now]

With that, the systemʼs presence faded.

With his Thought Acceleration skill active, barely two seconds had passed since Colonel Vazerythʼs final words.

Gazing at Zhyravelʼs wide grin, Anthonyʼs expression softened into an innocent smile as he calmly replied.

”Iʼm sorry, but I must decline”