Chapter 53: Using the Sea as a Whetstone

After spending a full hour submerged in the bath barrel, Tang Shen lifted the lid and rose abruptly. His entire body was flushed red, muscles smooth and full, brimming with explosive power.

Hoo!

A mouthful of steam burst forth from his lips, shooting several meters ahead like a white ribbon before fading into the air. He stepped boldly out of the bath.

Splash!

The once deep green water, darkened by a multitude of medicinal herbs, had turned pitch black—not the hue of medicine, but the color of filth. He grabbed a bucket of fresh water nearby and poured it over himself from head to toe, feeling a surge of comfort wash through him. It was as if every cell in his body sprang to life, suffused with strength.

His chest muscles were flawless, his abs and the lines along his waist sculpted as if by the hand of God. Not overly large, but possessing a striking visual impact.

He stretched lazily, bones and joints crackling like beans frying. A wave of comfort traveled along his nerves to his cerebral cortex, and Tang Shen couldn't help but groan, overwhelmed by the pure pleasure radiating from his bones and muscles.

At that moment, a chime from the system sounded in his mind.

[Constitution +1]

[Spirit +1]

As his training intensified, the limits kept rising and gains in constitution from sheer effort slowed considerably. Yet with the advent of his medicinal bath, the system’s notifications returned.

Pure delight!

His body felt indescribably comfortable; the improvement was a bonus, how could he not be pleased?

He selected a set of fresh clothes to wear; the beginner’s outfit was long forgotten, tossed somewhere out of sight. The currency collected from monster hunts was proving useful.

Crossing to the other side of the curtain, he discovered the reason for the silence: Kuina, the little girl, had fallen asleep with her head tilted.

Just as before, shy as always! In the end, it always fell to him to carry her out and back to her room.

Tang Shen’s face was filled with helplessness, yet a flicker of tenderness passed through his eyes. In his previous life, though he was an orphan and endured hardship, his struggle was not as fierce as Kuina’s. So young, yet so determined.

He opened the lid, gently lifted Kuina from the tub, rinsed her body with warm water, dried her, dressed her carefully, and carried her out. He placed her in her room, set her down gently—her small frame light and delicate—covered her with the quilt, closed the door, then took care of the bathwater before logging out.

Once offline, Tang Shen sat up in bed, slipped into the bathroom, and washed himself again.

Kuina’s dedication was driven by the pressure he exerted. As he grew stronger, the disparity pressed Kuina to strive desperately to keep pace. Since Kuina’s body was still developing, he had to carefully manage the limits each time—at the very least, ensuring she didn’t become severely depleted, something even medicinal baths couldn’t remedy.

This little girl had a fierce pride.

Some adjustments had to be made quietly: increasing the weights, upping the difficulty, synchronizing his training time with Kuina’s maximum tolerances.

Being a good teacher was no easy task.

That was Tang Shen’s realization.

He browsed the official forums and game boards, finding little new information. There were still people searching for him, the rewards offered growing ever higher, but their numbers had dwindled. So far, no other player had managed to slay a ferocious beast.

His interest waned; he skimmed through a few threads, closed the computer, and climbed into bed.

He kept track of each passing day.

The time was near: the annual school-wide Awakening Day, and the unified test at the Gene Martial Arts Hall.

“On Awakening Day, reaching level ten should be enough. The timing is just right; if I’m too impressive, it’ll raise suspicion.” This was Tang Shen’s last thought before sleep.

He never underestimated others; otherwise, he wouldn’t have spent so much time in the game laying a solid foundation, controlling his level progression to manage his own strength.

He still didn’t fully understand the gene warriors of this world. If he grew too powerful too quickly, the experts would notice something off, and his secrets would be exposed in an instant.

Others weren’t fools; how could an orphan suddenly surge in strength, especially when the school-issued gene serum was used?

He could allow himself to stand out, but never excessively—otherwise, it would be easy to attract unwanted attention. For now, keeping a low profile was best; to avoid being conspicuous, he needed to manage his strength with precision.

This was why Tang Shen had spent so much time training the basics alongside Kuina in the game: to prepare for the future, to temper his swelling ambition.

Growing too quickly in power did cause instability of mind. Extreme training allowed him to lose himself, gradually dispelling that negative mindset—these days, the effect was obvious.

Never underestimate the people of the world; in this world, power and status remained firmly in the hands of gene warriors.

The next morning, he woke on time.

He dressed, washed, ate, and logged into the game.

Kuina was just stepping out as well, beginning their morning training. Shortly afterward, Zoro appeared, wearing his signature green cap.

Not far off, a tall figure with round spectacles and a scholarly air also arrived punctually.

Thus began another day.

Stone pillars, bell striking technique, sword training in the sea, Eight Trigram steps, eye exercises, and more. Sword practice in the sea was primary, the rest supplementary.

When hunger struck, he’d pull meat from his backpack and eat; if he tired of it, he’d dive into the sea, catch a fish, and grill it on the shore, resting as he ate.

He had to admit, whether it was beast meat from this world—chewy and packed with nutrition—or the fish from the sea, Tang Shen devoured them down to the bones; the flavors were exquisite, the mineral content incredibly rich.

Sometimes, he even felt that if he ate such food for a lifetime, he’d never tire of it.

Then, back to training. The sea never rested, the waves never calmed, the ocean’s currents always in motion.

Tang Shen and Kuina’s iron bamboo swords never stopped swinging. The resistance of the sea was overcome; the pull of the currents resisted; the crashing waves sliced apart.

They stood as one with the rocks beneath their feet, unwavering.

Before the vast ocean, man appeared insignificant, almost negligible.

Yet on this unnamed isle in the East Sea, day after day, two figures—one large, one small—faced the sea, stubbornly struggling against its might, honing their blades on its grinding wheel, sharpening the swords in their hands and the swords in their hearts.

One day, their blades would resound across the world...