Ou Tao’s face remained blank, but inwardly he mused, *Ten-roll draws are seriously addictive.* A strange switch had flipped inside him—he even felt tempted to hunt down some gacha games offline later.
His eyes locked on the chest. Aside from four white, four blue, and one purple weapon or gear piece, a golden orb caught his attention. With a flick of his index finger, he tapped it.
**Yami’s Spirit Essence**: Yami was a ferocious beast haunting the Brandia Forest—towering hundreds of feet tall, weighing as much as Mount Tai. It despised elves. In a suicidal charge, it rammed the elves’ millennia-old sacred tree to death, toppling it and triggering the forest elves’ royal decline and a century of civil war.
“A spirit essence is a soul forged after death. Necromancers summon undead with it, exorcists use it in arrays, and Spiritblade Knights imbue weapons with a Sword Spirit! Not bad, Rod—you pulled a spirit essence you desperately need… and it’s SSR-tier.”
“Mm. But the spirit essence alone isn’t enough. I still need a sword worthy of my descent.”
Truth was, Ou Tao hadn’t truly needed that full-power Five-Slash Combo. He’d calculated it: the boar’s skull was too tough. The priest’s blade barely qualified as blue-grade; the other three were plain white-trash gear—flimsy, weak, making the fight unnecessarily messy. He needed a weapon worthy of this SSR spirit essence.
Around him lay rubble and ruins. Landowner Roland’s family and the four adventurers were dead. The militiamen, weakened and stripped of hatred, had merely collapsed—and survived.
*They really died. Not a game.* A flicker of unease crossed Ou Tao’s mind. But what choice was there? Subjectively, greed drove the adventurers. Objectively, Roland exploited laborers in this lawless backwater, hoarding wealth far beyond his station—his banditry summoned real bandits.
Moral collapse? Twisted humanity? None of Ou Tao’s concern.
Time to work—professionally.
“Father!” Ke Er sprinted toward him, tiny legs pumping. “So… so cool! *This* is my father! The village hero who slew the Bamboo Boar King—*my* father!” Her shyness vanished. Pride lit her voice; a rare, blooming smile graced her face. The two kids who’d boasted about their militiaman dads now stared at the ground, silent.
“Ke Er, it’s dangerous. Houses are unstable. Go home! I need to… inspect the spoils.”
“Okay!” She halted instantly. To her, her father’s words were law—Heavenly Principle itself. She skipped toward home, glancing back repeatedly. *“Inspect the spoils” must be some ultra-cool magical sword technique!*
Back home, Ke Er scrambled up the crooked tree by the door. Her short legs slipped, scrambled, slipped again—until she finally hoisted herself up. Weak but determined, she inched upward like a caterpillar, wriggling to the very top. *I have to see Father’s legendary technique!*
She watched him crouch, unzip the priest’s storage pouch, then frantically loot everything: potions, a mechanical parrot, weapons, daggers, belts—anything valuable. Even the old priest’s robe caught his eye. *Is he… stripping the body?!*
“Is this what a professionally trained expert looks like?” Brother Wei Da wiped his brow, watching Ou Tao loot. He silently hit record. “This leave-nothing-behind spirit—I’m turning it into mandatory training for Hamiyou’s dev team.”
Ou Tao stopped before removing the robe. A thin villager stepped in. “Father Sain’s Church-affiliated. You can’t sell his robe. Let it go. Show mercy.”
Ou Tao nodded. *Truly simple, honest folk…*
“Uncle Rod! I worked at the landlord’s—I know where the money’s hidden! Everyone’s prying open the cellar slab. More valuables inside! Help us! You’ve got seventy strength!”
Ou Tao went silent. *Scratch that. Harsh lands breed cunning folk.* He was a pro—he couldn’t stoop to this.
…Yet channeling Uncle Rod’s strength, he shoved. With seventy points of power, the cellar door flew open.
“Take back what the landlord stole from us!” villagers roared.
Ou Tao blinked. *Whoa. Plenty of good loot down there… But will I find a proper sword?*
