Chapter Fourteen: Return to the Modern World

Inside the cafeteria, under the wide-eyed stares of the onlooking disciples, Fang Can’s right hand shot out like a heavy cannon.

“Bang!”

With a dull echo of bone and flesh colliding, Fang Can’s fist plunged directly into Li Qunfan’s cheek.

The immense force inevitably snapped Li Qunfan’s head backward.

In the next moment, Fang Can’s left hand gripped the back of Li Qunfan’s head tightly, yanking it back.

A trace of ferocity gleamed in his eyes as Fang Can held Li Qunfan’s head with his left hand and pummeled his forehead repeatedly with his right fist.

“Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Without holding back, the sound of bones cracking rang out from both of them.

The circle of disciples around them stood dumbfounded, the entire cafeteria falling silent, save for the rippling sounds of impact.

After two seconds of silence, a furious roar burst from two of Li Qunfan’s companions.

Had these two not restrained their arms, Li Qunfan wouldn’t have been beaten so senselessly, like a dead pig, without any resistance.

Almost simultaneously, the two released their grasp; one tried to reach for Fang Can while the other raised a fist to retaliate.

But Fang Can anticipated the first’s move, leaning back to evade, and the second’s fist froze mid-air, bound by the school’s rules forbidding them from attacking newcomers.

Even reporting to the Disciplinary Hall would not favor them.

Starting a fight over money with a newcomer, even if they won, the blame would likely fall on them.

“Hey—” Fang Can stepped back slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Gentlemen, are you going to continue?”

The two disciples hesitated, glancing sideways at Li Qunfan. The leader of the trio’s face was swollen like a pig’s, unconscious after the relentless blows.

Seeing their hesitation, Fang Can reminded them, “Looks like you’ve thought it over. Remember, breaking the rules means punishment by the Disciplinary Hall.”

“Don’t get cocky! Wait a month—I’ll settle this, damn it! I’m doing it for my son.”

Their faces twisted with rage, yet even in this moment, they clung stubbornly to their roles.

Fang Can’s smile remained radiant. “Since you’re so scared, I’m relieved. Just remember—not to fight back.”

With that, Fang Can suddenly snatched up a pair of solid wooden chopsticks and charged straight at them.

“What do you think you’re doing, kid?” The two, seeing Fang Can rushing at them, let their clenched fists fall apart.

Unable to fight but boiling with frustration, they dragged the unconscious Li Qunfan and vanished from the cafeteria.

---

“Phew!” Seeing them flee, Fang Can stopped and casually tossed the chopsticks aside.

In his jacket pocket was the dagger he had snatched from those thugs earlier—still unbloodied.

‘Still too weak,’ Fang Can thought, clenching his fist as he watched them run off.

The knuckles, already scabbed, cracked open again from the repeated pounding, yet Li Qunfan remained only in a deep coma—truly the toughness of a martial artist’s flesh.

Scanning around, the crowd of disciples was still stunned.

Most were under twenty, trained daily but unaccustomed to bloodshed, and this was their first time seeing a newcomer hold his own against three veterans.

When Fang Can’s gaze swept over them, most instinctively looked away, then, realizing how embarrassing that was, defiantly glared back.

Ignoring them, Fang Can turned, picked up his empty tray, ordered another set meal, and leisurely returned to a corner to eat.

This time, no one dared to bother him. Surely, the next month would be peaceful enough to enjoy some respite.

As Fang Can predicted, the following days passed quietly, devoted to martial practice.

Each day, swallowing a dose of arsenic granted him half an hour of genius experience time, accelerating his progress at a miraculous pace compared to ordinary people.

Name: Fang Can
Body: 1.9
Spirit: 1.9
Qi: 1.9
Notes:
Tiger Fiend’s Eighty-Eight Caves, Level 5: 743/16000
Flesh Mutation: 0.79%
...

Five days later, at dusk, Fang Can toured the Tiger Fiend’s Eighty-Eight Caves once more, clenching his fists, feeling his muscles beneath the skin brimming with explosive power.

‘No wonder it’s called Idealist Martial Way—completely unreasonable.’ He narrowed his eyes.

Though his muscle mass hadn’t increased much, his strength had nearly tripled.

At this moment, Fang Can felt his body evolving toward perfection, balancing power, speed, defense, and flexibility.

And yet, his mutation level on the status screen hadn’t even reached 1%.

---

He began to look forward to the moment his mutated flesh reached 100%, curious how powerful his entire body would become.

‘If this is the true value of the first realm of martial arts, the Transcendent Body, I can reluctantly accept it.’

After finishing his daily training, Fang Can headed to the library.

Upon seeing him, the librarian’s face lit up with a smile.

“Old Li, I’m back again,” Fang Can greeted politely, nodding before settling into a wooden chair.

“There aren’t many like you coming to the library these days.” Old Li shook his head with a sigh, picking up a book from the table. “Shall we continue with ‘The Chronicles of the Great Yan Emperor’ today?”

“Yes, please,” Fang Can replied.

By candlelight, Old Li reopened the passage read yesterday, steady in tone as he recited:

“When the Overlord of Great Chu saw no way to defeat the Great Yan Emperor, his Three Corpse Spirits raged, urging on their divine powers…”

As Old Li spoke, Fang Can closed his eyes slightly, letting the librarian’s voice echo in his ears.

During this period, Fang Can had tried learning to read, but since he couldn’t comprehend the characters, he paid the librarian to read aloud.

Thanks to his genius mode’s photographic memory, as soon as he matched spoken words to written characters, he memorized most commonly used words.

He believed that after a few more days of listening, he would be able to browse books on his own.

Leaning back in the wooden chair, Fang Can yawned softly. The day’s exertion had drained his energy, and now that he was idle, he found it hard to sit still.

Summoning what strength he had left, he listened to Old Li’s recitation, but his head gradually drooped.

Suddenly, he felt a sense of detachment from his body, and the world spun wildly.

When he regained consciousness, a blinding light pierced his eyes.

Almost instantly, Fang Can instinctively reached into his pocket for his dagger—but his hand grasped only empty air.

“What’s going on?” His eyes widened, yet the surroundings were unmistakably familiar.

The television flickered in front of him, crystal chandeliers gleamed overhead, a soft leather sofa rested beside him, and the polished tile floor stretched beneath.

“I’m back again?” A flicker of disbelief crossed Fang Can’s eyes.

Having grown accustomed to life in another world, he never imagined he would have the chance to return to modern times.