Chapter 70: The Influence Is Spreading

Clang!

Tang Shen’s eyes flew open, still bright as ever, but now with a sharper glint. Even seated cross-legged in the bath barrel, his entire being exuded a keen, cutting aura.

Though he had acquired the mastery-level experience and insights of the Draw Blade Slash, to wield it at will would still require diligent training. Only then could he further reduce his stamina consumption and even surpass the theoretical limits of its power.

Before his skill had advanced to the high level, using the intermediate Draw Blade Slash already cost him only four points of stamina, and its might and speed far outstripped the basic version. If he merely invoked the strength of the basic slash, the cost was barely a single point.

Now, Tang Shen felt certain he could lower the cost further—at most three points for the intermediate slash, and less than one for the basic, almost negligible.

Today’s gains were bountiful, and Tang Shen could not suppress his joy.

Not only had he saved Kuina and resolved a long-standing worry, but his strength had also made a great leap.

He forced himself to calm, resisting excitement and pride. Maintaining one’s mental state was crucial; Tang Shen always strove for control, for agitation or exhilaration could easily expose him in the city.

Sword practice and training were as much about tempering the heart as honing the blade.

When he explained the principles of the Way to Kuina, he was as much teaching himself the proper path of life.

The intensified medicinal bath and the exhilaration from his newfound strength combined in a strange equilibrium, drawing Tang Shen into a state of deep meditation within the bath barrel—the very state swordmasters longed to enter in their nightly contemplation.

……

Kuina returned to the courtyard, finding Koshiro already gone.

She went back to the spot where she had fallen, her gaze lingering on the bloodstained, jagged stone.

Kneeling, she carefully dug out the stone and held it in her hand.

She was no fool; on the contrary, she was exceptionally clever.

Had Tang Shen not arrived in time, she would likely be dead.

Because of this, her feelings were even more complex and her gratitude deeper. At the same time, a strange emotion surfaced in her mind, filling her thoughts—memories of her first meeting with Tang Shen, their time together, their shared training—all replayed, intricate, delicate, and tinged with warmth.

Under the chilly moonlight, a gentle, blissful smile slowly emerged on her round-cheeked face.

She turned and walked to her room. She must train again tomorrow. Every word Tang Shen had spoken was carved into her heart.

Yet she could not let go of the stone in her hand, holding it tightly the whole time.

That night, everyone in Frost Moon Village slept soundly, though few understood why.

……

In reality, at Tang Shen’s home.

He had been lying quietly in bed. Suddenly, Tang Shen sat bolt upright.

His eyes snapped open and glanced at the clock on the wall—precisely midnight.

Exhaling a heavy breath, he realized he had been forcibly logged out.

He touched his chest; it still seemed to throb faintly with pain.

He was not at all sleepy now. Turning on his secondhand computer, he discovered countless other players, like himself, were wide awake.

They were sleepless, not from excitement, but from defeat.

That night, who knew how many prodigies lay awake, unable to rest.

The official forums and game boards nearly exploded with activity that day.

Though Tang Shen had anticipated a frenzy, he had not expected such madness.

At midnight, the posts were even more frenzied than when he had logged off earlier.

The effect of two global announcements was truly terrifying.

What surprised Tang Shen further was that far fewer people were cursing him or demanding he reveal his leveling strategy. Most were in awe, speculating about his identity.

Those one can pursue are called prodigies; those whose backs can only be glimpsed from afar are called gods.

Just as the human God of War, though dead for years, was still sung of by all.

Tang Shen’s unintended “counterattack” in the game revealed to many players a chasm they could never cross.

They could see the other side, yet could never reach it.

So all they could do was gaze from afar.

Despite the late hour, the forums remained ablaze due to the game’s latest update.

New players continued to flood in.

After more than two months since the launch of the full-immersion “One Piece” game, though many players struggled, the player base only grew, and the game’s influence spread wider and wider.

Already, Tang Shen’s achievement of reaching level ten during the day was headline news, widely reported everywhere.

No matter how poorly other players fared, the top player’s rapid ascent had everyone calculating the real-world strength such progress could bring.

With a 20% synchronization rate, each level up—even with evenly distributed stat points, the weakest method—meant a doubling of strength, speed, and mental power. What did that mean?

For a normal person, to surpass their peers in strength, speed, and spirit required three, five, even ten years of hard training, starting from childhood and with natural talent—yet even that wouldn’t double all attributes.

Doubling one’s strength over an ordinary person required extreme training.

Doubling speed was already beyond human limits; elite athletes, after rigorous training, could manage about ten meters per second, rarely more. The world record for the average person was only 10.4384 m/s; half that is about 5 m/s, and any healthy adult could reach 6-8 m/s, with some training up to 9 m/s.

Doubling that—to 18 m/s—was far beyond the human norm.

As for mental fortitude, it required even more perseverance, endurance, and harsh trials.

And this was only at level ten. What about higher levels? And with greater synchronization?

Moreover, these calculations assumed stat points were evenly split among constitution, strength, speed, and spirit.

What if points were focused on just one or two attributes?

Even at ten or twenty percent synchronization, a single attribute could vastly exceed ordinary human limits—almost rivaling standard gene warriors.

Such individuals would stand high above the masses, with status, wealth, and admiration falling into their hands—things ordinary people might never achieve in a lifetime.

And this was after barely two months since launch!

What about a year? Two years?

Many people’s eyes burned with envy—what if it were them?

Though everyone knew maxing out a single attribute was unlikely, this was only the beginning—a sign of what was to come.

This was just the start; Tang Shen’s two server-wide announcements were merely the spark.

“One Piece” was gradually growing in influence, drawing in those who hesitated—because in this world, one could truly become stronger! Even an ordinary person had the chance to reach for the stars.