No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Above the arena.

One by one, projections from the Spiritual Realm shimmered into view, standing upon the void in forms invisible to the students. They observed the battlefield below with solemn gazes.

These were projections of the Civil Engineering Department’s Director Gao, Director Lin, and many other professors and instructors.

Their true bodies were scattered across various locations, still engaged in other tasks—some not even within University City—but each had split off a sliver of thought to monitor the outcome of this match.

Even True Lord Lingyue, who had just been speaking onstage moments ago, descended a projection here to facilitate communication with his peers.

Yet despite standing separately, the projections subtly aligned into three distinct factions: the War Faction, Peace Faction, and Neutral Faction of the Civil Engineering Department.

Tu Lishan’s brow furrowed as he noticed the Neutral Faction inching closer to the Peace Faction’s formation.

A cold thought flickered through his mind. “Bunch of fence-sitters. When I handed you your projects, each of you wagged your tails like lapdogs. Now that the Finance Department’s approving more loans, you’re all flocking to their side?”

His gaze dropped to the battlefield below. “If the Peace Faction wins this competition, even more neutral students and staff will start leaning their way.”

A window flickered in his EyeNet vision, displaying his current stock portfolio. “Would that drop the price? Should I sell now?”But a glance at Director Gao beside him stopped him cold. If he sold now, Gao would immediately catch wind of it. He silently shelved the idea.

“Besides… there’s still a chance we’ll win.”

Tu Lishan mused, “At the very least, Mo Shangjin has a high probability of taking first place. Director Gao’s been funneling most of our cultivation resources into him.”

“If we take first, even if the lower rankings slip, it’s not a big deal.”

“Only the first-place winner gets to represent the department in inter-school tournaments, after all.”

Tu Lishan knew full well that those inter-school events offered higher composite scores. Letting Mo Shangjin leap ahead was key to securing his place as the department’s top student.

Meanwhile, the other instructors were offering their own commentary.

“Mo Shangjin’s Heavenly Kunlun Mountain-Moving Might is getting sharper by the day.”

“I still think Xuan Liangtian’s grasp of Mountain-Moving Might is deeper—he’s faster, too.”

“Hmm… That’s a sophomore? That fast already?”

Tu Lishan followed the pointing finger and spotted a figure charging headlong into the gravity field.

It was Zhang Yu.

…

With a low roar, Zhang Yu’s mana surged. Every muscle in his body bulged as blue veins crawled across his skin, steam hissing off his rapidly rising body heat, dyeing his skin a deep, crimson hue.

As the War Demon Life-Draining Technique activated, Zhang Yu’s physical strength skyrocketed by 0.5 levels, breaking through the Level 17 mark.

But that was just the beginning.

This time, he was determined to unleash the full force of the Level 20 War Demon Life-Draining Technique.

“I’ve been practicing this Technique for over ten months now. Hitting Level 20? Not a problem.”

Before making the decision, Zhang Yu had already checked the Spiritual Realm Network. He wasn’t the first to reach Level 20 in under a year. In the past twenty years at Wanfa University, several students had done it—even without being geniuses specializing in this Technique.

“Given the talent I’ve shown so far, showing off a Level 20 War Demon Life-Draining Technique won’t raise any eyebrows.”

“This Technique temporarily boosts my physical power—perfect for offsetting my disadvantage against upperclassmen.”

With that, Zhang Yu took a slow breath, rolled his shoulders, swung his legs, and limbered up.

Then, he pushed the War Demon Life-Draining Technique further.

Veins throbbed across his forehead. Sweat poured from every pore. His heartbeat thundered like a war drum slamming against his chest.

Physical Strength +1.0 Level!

Physical Strength +1.5 Levels!

Physical Strength +2.0 Levels!

He pushed it to its second-stage limit.

This was a move Zhang Yu rarely used.

The damage to his body was too severe. During study sessions or overtime, it just wasn’t worth it.

But this elimination match only required a moment of explosive power—Zhang Yu figured he could endure it.

With the second-stage burst active, his strength temporarily surged past Level 18.5. His crimson skin glowed as if slick with blood.

“Hoo…”

A sharp exhale distorted the air around him with heat waves.

Feeling his body strain under the overload, Zhang Yu thought, Thankfully, I’ve activated the Earth-Wood Saint Body, and the Sacrificial Oxheart Technique is helping my tissues regenerate. Otherwise, the lifespan loss would be brutal.

He could’ve used the toxic burst from the Endless Spring and Autumn Meditation as well, but he decided to save his accumulated toxins for later matches.

Then—

Boom!

With a sonic blast underfoot, Zhang Yu’s form vanished, tearing through the sound barrier as he hurtled into the gravity field.

Boom!

The moment he entered, it felt like invisible hands gripped every inch of his body—pulling him up, dragging him down, shoving him sideways.

The chaotic, ever-shifting gravity field tugged and twisted his limbs as if trying to tear him apart.

Zhang Yu finally understood why students who charged in all ended up wobbling like toddlers learning to walk.

“Because you have to constantly shift your posture to counter the chaotic gravitational pulls…”

He let out another growl, compressed his body, shrank his height and profile to minimize surface area affected by the gravity.

Then, four white bulls roared inside his mind—his Multi-Threaded Thinking flaring to life.

One thread controlled his core. The other three took charge of his torso, arms, and legs, respectively—adjusting to the gravity’s changes in real time.

Since Bai Zhenzhen’s coaching and his own relentless training, Zhang Yu had only grown more fluent in using this technique.

Now, his body responded with seamless coordination—readjusting, realigning, accelerating forward.

Zhang Yu briefly stalled—then shot forward like a missile, overtaking student after student in a blur.

…

Above the arena, projections buzzed with admiration.

“This Zhang Yu’s just a sophomore? His physical strength’s insane!”

“Look closely—that’s not his base strength. He’s using the War Demon Life-Draining Technique.”

“Judging by the burst level, I’d say he’s at Level 20?”

A teacher checked Zhang Yu’s purchase records. “He only started practicing it last August? Impressive.”

Another instructor chimed in, “More than that—his control over his body is incredible. He’s accelerating through the gravity field without slowing down. It means he can handle the sudden strength spike—textbook martial talent.”

Just then, a Peace Faction teacher muttered, “What good is mastering the War Demon Life-Draining Technique? The better you are at it, the faster you die. It drains your lifespan and empties your wallet.”

Tu Lishan glanced at him—Wei Huai, the geology instructor.

Then he looked at Director Gao, whose smirk had just turned flat.

Tu Lishan knew: Wei Huai wasn’t just talking about Zhang Yu—he was making a point about their ideological battle.

He stepped forward and said, “That’s a flawed argument. Everyone’s body is different. You can’t generalize.”

“Zhang Yu has a naturally robust physique. Back in freshman year, he was downing multiple doses of lifespan-burning meds a day.”

“What’s a burden to others is no big deal for him.”

“Going all-in is his best path. Thanks to that, he was able to clinch first place in his class with minimal financial investment…”

Tu Lishan was mid-sentence when a red streak slashed across the arena—

…

Zhang Yu blinked. A crimson trail unfolded before his eyes, like a racetrack blazing through the entire gravity field.

Then a voice echoed overhead:

“This is my trajectory.”

“I’ll be passing through at five times the speed of sound. Please refrain from moving to avoid collisions.”

Boom!

A burst of fire and light erupted. A crimson streak shot through the field like a meteor, tearing across space with a thunderous roar.

In a blink, it had already reached the field’s far edge.

Boom!

Zhang Yu batted aside the trailing shockwave and stared at the figure who’d come to a halt.

Su Yanyang. The guy who injured Shi Huaiyu.

Cocky bastard.

“His Law Husk isn’t cheap either,” Zhang Yu thought. “And even with all that money, he still won’t compensate Shi Huaiyu?”

…

Su Yanyang didn’t care what others thought. He glanced at his timer.

“Not bad.”

He beckoned casually, and a distant iron coffin flew to him.

As the lid opened, a series of glowing rectangular strips shot out, snapping into place across his limbs and torso—replacing his current Law Husk with a standard one.

The old husk automatically returned to the floating iron coffin.

In mere seconds, he had swapped from speed-type gear to his regular setup. He flexed, adjusted, and walked toward his teammates.

The iron coffin hovered at his side like a loyal hound.

In his EyeNet view, lines of text scrolled—his assistant soul cultivators embedded in the Law Husk were feeding him data.

To Su Yanyang, these were cheaper and more efficient than similarly skilled artifact spirits.

One soul cultivator assisting his hand modules asked, “Boss, how’d we do? Pretty slick, right?”

Su Yanyang replied, “Not bad. Impress me, and one of you might get hired full-time.”

The five soul cultivators running the Law Husk worked even harder.

Su Yanyang smiled faintly, but he knew the truth…

He wouldn’t be keeping any of them.

He liked the trial version better.