Linglong Heart

Once outside, Du Ge didn't rush to find food for Feng Jiu.

Whether it was the world outside the Simulation Field or the martial arts world inside it, both were unfamiliar to him. He needed to gather more intelligence.

Just now, when he had fed his blood to forcibly maintain the other party, he had clearly sensed Feng Jiu's tension.

Connecting this to Feng Jiu's earlier talk of eliminating him at any moment, Du Ge guessed that the participants inside the Simulation Field were in a competitive relationship, and the so-called Civilian School and Elite Academy were likely opposed as well.

Feng Jiu had once expressed contempt for the Civilian School teachers' instruction to "not reveal your keyword."

But Du Ge thought the teachers wouldn't speak without reason.

In a competitive situation, the advice not to reveal one's keyword was perfectly sound.

Take Feng Jiu's Taotie, for example. It was indeed a good keyword, but if someone deliberately targeted him and cut off his food supply, that would mean sealing off his growth.

Putting himself in Feng Jiu's shoes, he would never casually leak his keyword information.

And the best way to hide a keyword was to kill him.

Body-snatching was a covert affair. In such a short time, for the numbers on the panel to be disappearing so quickly, there was only one possibility: most of them were being taken out by their own people...

So, Feng Jiu was definitely not cooperating with him sincerely.

The reason he kept eating those unpalatable straw mats was probably to recover his stamina faster than Du Ge, and then eliminate him!

Of course, Feng Jiu had woken up before him, so he could have pretended to be a native and tricked him.

But his injuries at the time were probably no lighter than Du Ge's, forcing him to rely on eating straw mats to heal. Wanting to eliminate him was likely beyond his ability.

Moreover, for a severely injured person, the act of gnawing on raw straw mats was too abnormal.

As he himself had said, if even straw mats were being eaten, such a keyword was too easy to deduce.

Without knowing his keyword, Feng Jiu probably thought he had already been exposed, which was why he came up with the idea of cooperating to lull him into complacency and buy time...

The only thing he hadn't anticipated was that Du Ge would recover faster than him.

"...Let's cooperate, bro, I'll carry you to victory..."

"...After we get out, I'll find a way to transfer you into the Elite Academy..."

"Lulling, bribing... Hah, childish tactics!" Du Ge let out a cold laugh, not hesitating to judge the other party with the worst possible intentions. Lacking key information, he knew his deductions had major flaws, but as long as most of the data fit the logic, it could lead to a conclusion. How many things in the world were ever one hundred percent certain?

Outside, the sun blazed brightly, and the air was exceptionally fresh. Du Ge greedily inhaled a breath of the rare fresh air, feeling even more amazed at the Simulation Field's realism.

If he had only transmigrated without meeting Feng Jiu, he would most likely have taken this place for a real world and gone down many wrong paths.

This world was too real, truly crafted to be no different from The Matrix.

Judging by Feng Jiu's attitude, he also didn't treat this place as a game but as a real world, which probably had something to do with the Alien Battlefield he mentioned.

He just didn't know what this so-called Alien Battlefield was supposed to be.

Regardless.

Transmigrating was way more exciting than living out those predictable days on Earth. Right from the start, it had given him plenty of surprises and thrills, well worth a good romp.

Shangwu Courtyard was a long, narrow compound, with rooms of identical construction lined up in two rows, looking just like employee dormitories.

In this world, martial arts training depended on talent. The sparring partners had slightly inferior talent compared to the disciples. People like Feng Qi, whose body Du Ge had taken over, and Feng Jiu, were children from poor families taken in by the Feng family since childhood. Their contracts were held by the Feng family. If martial arts training offered no way out, they were destined to have no future, treated only a little better than the household servants.

At this moment, there were several people in the yard wearing the same clothes as him, most of them injured. Some had bandaged arms, others leaned on crutches...

No one had a smile on their face.

When they saw Du Ge walk by, they only lazily lifted their heads to glance at him and didn't say much, which saved Du Ge trouble. After all, despite Feng Jiu's explanations, he couldn't match a single one of these people to their names. The more he said, the more mistakes he'd make.

Ignoring the injured, Du Ge pondered the usage of keywords as he slowly moved toward the exit of Shangwu Courtyard.

"Seventh Brother, you can walk already?" A burly man of about thirty came up from the opposite direction, looking at Du Ge with surprise.

"Looks serious, but my body's not that bad off. I'll be fine after some rest." Du Ge clutched his chest and said with difficulty, "Ninth Brother's hurt worse than me. I came out to find him some food..."

"Don't bother, I'll go!" The burly man looked at Du Ge with pity. "Yesterday, Old Six and I carried you back. Do you think I don't know how badly you were hurt? You need at least two months of rest to recover. This time, Third Young Master really went too far."

"Can't blame Third Young Master. He's preparing for the Martial Arts Tournament. Getting a chance to enter the Qiao Family Holy Land only benefits the Feng family..." Du Ge said casually.

"Bullshit Martial Arts Tournament. How many years now, when has the Feng family ever..." The burly man's words cut off abruptly as he whipped his head around to look behind him.

There was no one there.

Turning back, the burly man stared at Du Ge in surprise, his eyes full of suspicion.

At that moment, having unintentionally defended the Feng family's interests, Du Ge's body felt lighter. He naturally knew the man before him had grown suspicious.

This really was a real world!

The NPCs were too intelligent!

Without the original owner's memories, no matter how he pretended, in front of these people who had lived with him day and night, he would slip up...

Since exposure was inevitable sooner or later, Du Ge sighed and decided to change his strategy. In the instant his body had lightened, he understood the ultimate meaning of maintenance. Maintaining just one person was too narrow a scope; maintaining a collective was the true path.

Feng Jiu mentioned the Simulation Field's top ten a few times—maybe there's a special reward for making it in.

Du Ge actually wanted to go see the real world he'd transmigrated into, but judging by the constantly shifting rankings, it seemed like once you left the Simulation Field, you couldn't get back in.

It'd be a shame to quit such an interesting world outright.

Experiencing all kinds of worlds makes life more exciting—he'd treat it as a second transmigration. After all, the Simulation Field only eliminated people; it didn't kill them.

As for the top ten, Du Ge felt he could fight for a spot.

He was a serious person; no matter what he did, he gave it his all.

Du Ge looked at the burly man and said in a low voice, "I'll go get some food for Old Nine. Don't talk bad about Third Young Master behind his back anymore—it's not good if someone hears."

The burly man's face shifted slightly, and he stammered defensively, "Seventh Brother, did I say something? You must have misheard."

Du Ge looked at him with a faint, knowing smile.

The burly man tensed up, swallowed hard, and lowered his voice with a flattering grin. "Seventh Brother, Fourth Brother has always treated you the best."

"Fourth Brother, no need to be nervous—we're tight, you and me!" Du Ge naturally knew his title and spoke with earnest gravity. "But still, sickness enters through the mouth, trouble comes out of it. Fourth Brother, some things are better kept in your heart. Saying them out loud just gives others ammunition. I'm saying this for your own good..."

Having grasped the true essence of maintenance, Du Ge began subconsciously cultivating the habit of always considering others. Every time he maintained someone—whether genuinely or forced—his body received immediate feedback. The simulator didn't seem to distinguish between sincerity and pretense.

He liked this feeling of instant rewards. It was way better than working a month on Earth and then agonizingly waiting for payday.

"Mm, I get it." Feng Si's expression was a bit unnatural as he changed the subject. "Seventh Brother, go to the kitchen yourself. I have other things to do..."

"Fourth Brother, take care." Du Ge nodded with a smile.

Feng Si gave Du Ge one last look, frowned as if he wanted to say something, but didn't, and hurried past him.

Du Ge continued walking out. Once he left Shangwu Courtyard, he didn't head for Chongwu Courtyard's kitchen. Instead, he turned toward the Training Ground. Feng Jiu's straw mat rations could last a while longer—no rush to bring him food.

Hah!

Hah!

Before he even reached the Training Ground, Du Ge heard a lot of noisy sounds, and he quickened his pace a little.

Feng Jiu had been vague, only telling Du Ge this was a martial arts world, but not revealing the levels or standards of its martial arts—whether it was high-martial or low-martial.

At least right now, Du Ge couldn't sense any flow of Internal Energy.

Maybe there was Internal Energy, but he just didn't know how to use it.

In short, the body he'd taken over felt no different from Earth.

So he was eager to see what this world's martial arts looked like—whether it matched the descriptions in Earth's wuxia novels.

Du Ge was wearing a sparring partner's uniform, so no one stopped him along the way. Occasionally, curious glances were cast his way, as if surprised that he'd been so badly injured yet was still heading to the Training Ground. Those disciples were practically obsessed with the Martial Arts Tournament—even someone without such serious injuries should find an excuse to hide for a few months, not come out looking for a beating!

As he stepped through the gate of the Training Ground, Du Ge was immediately drawn to two people on the practice field.

One was a sparring partner wearing the same uniform as him; the other was a young man in a white training suit. The two were exchanging blows.

Like a rabbit rising and a falcon swooping, their movements were swift—circling left and right, fists and feet flying up and down with whooshing sounds that dazzled the eyes. It was way more exciting than Earth's MMA.

But there were no special effects. It should be a low-martial setting.

Du Ge made his judgment, then realized with dismay that the sparring partner did have martial arts skills, but he himself had no memory of any martial arts—not even a shred of muscle memory.

Suddenly.

The young man in the white training suit, around twenty years old, faked a move and drove a palm strike straight through the sparring partner's chest.

Crack!

The sparring partner screamed, flew backward through the air, crashed into a weapon rack with a clatter, and hit the ground. He spat out a mouthful of blood, struggled a few times, then lay still—whether dead or alive, no one knew.

Du Ge stared at the sparring partner, whose chest was caved in and who lay motionless, his expression grim.

At that moment, he suddenly understood why Feng Jiu was so desperate to escape the Feng Family. These people really didn't treat sparring partners as human. With his chest bones shattered, the man had maybe a ten percent chance of survival...

Cheers snapped Du Ge back to reality.

He looked at the Training Ground again. Aside from the sparring partners sharing a sense of grief for their fallen comrade, the surrounding Feng Family direct disciples and servants were all loudly cheering.

Did they not care about human life at all?

Du Ge curled his lip. Trash of a family!

The young man in white pulled a folding fan from his waist with a showy flourish, snapped it open, and fanned himself elegantly in front of his chest, basking in the crowd's flattery.

A middle-aged man with a long beard leaped over to the fallen sparring partner, bent down to check his injuries, then called two people over to carry him away. He looked at the young man and praised, "Yunjie, your Heart-Shattering Jade Cut is getting more and more refined—truly impossible to defend against."

"Second Uncle flatters me. Give me three more months of training, and once I've mastered the Broken Jade Hand, I'll definitely win a spot for the Feng Family at the Martial Arts Tournament." Third Young Master seemed very satisfied with his strike. He looked down at his palm, then turned back to the middle-aged man with a nod and a smile. From start to finish, he never once glanced again at the sparring partner he'd beaten to the brink of death.

Broken Jade Hand?

What a low-tier martial art name. Clearly not from a major family's technique, Du Ge thought to himself.

Third Young Master Feng Yunjie, and Feng Shiyi, the younger brother of Feng Family head Feng Shiren—Du Ge matched the names to the faces in his mind.

Feng Shiyi stroked his long beard and laughed heartily at Feng Yunjie. "As expected of my Feng Family's young tiger—full of ambition. Yunjie, for these next few months, do nothing but train. If you need anything, just tell your Second Uncle. Whether the Feng Family can hold its head high this time all depends on you."

Fortune favors the bold.

Du Ge thought for a moment, then suddenly straightened his back and called out in a loud voice, "Second Master Feng, Third Young Master, I have an important matter to report—it concerns this Martial Arts Tournament..."