Black Heart Evil Palm, Fist of the North Star

As the faint sound of his breakthrough still echoed within his body, Situ Xuan suddenly felt the world spin.

The moonlight that had been slanting through the window suddenly twisted into ribbons, and the mechanical clock on the wall emitted an abnormal "click-clack" sound as its hands began to rotate counter-clockwise.

The most bizarre part was that even though he remained in a meditative posture, he clearly felt himself falling—not downward, but sinking continuously toward some indescribable direction.

Is this... a cultivation deviation during meditation? No sooner had this thought flashed through his mind than the sensation of falling came to an abrupt halt.

The view before him suddenly opened up.

The pure white space had neither walls nor boundaries, as if someone had bleached the entire world. Situ Xuan tentatively moved his fingers and found that he could move his body freely, yet he felt no sensation of touch when his feet pressed against the ground. Even stranger, a faint scent of ink floated in this space, as if someone had just been practicing calligraphy here.

Click.

A crisp sound came from behind him. Situ Xuan turned his head abruptly to see a Bronze Codex floating out of thin air three meters away. The book was shockingly large, the size of a door panel, and shimmered with a greenish-bronze patina.

The pages were turning automatically with a rustling sound; each time a page turned, a few tiny copper shavings flaked off the spine, dissolving into green smoke as they fell.

An illusion during the awakening of a Martial Soul?

Situ Xuan frowned and walked closer. As the distance shortened, he noticed seven strangely shaped chains wrapped around the book cover, each link engraved with a different beast head. The central chain had already snapped, the broken edge refracting a cold, starlit gleam.

When he stood half a meter in front of the book, the turning pages suddenly stilled.

The left page revealed before him was blank, while the right page bore the Eight-Character Mantra written in vermilion cinnabar, red as blood: <Practice martial arts with sincerity, follow your original heart>.

The handwriting was indescribably strange—fine, jagged teeth were hidden within the horizontal and vertical strokes, and the ends of the slashes and dots bore barbs, as if every character were a living thing.

"Playing god."

Situ Xuan reached out to touch the page. The moment his fingertip brushed the surface, the entire book shook violently. Dense rows of small, golden regular-script characters emerged on the previously blank left page, the strokes deepening as if carved by an invisible chisel:

[Wind and clouds roll across the great wilderness beneath the fist, a righteous spirit stands amidst the vastness.

Ten years of sharpening the sword, the heart remains crimson; a hundred battles hide the edge, the intent is naturally unyielding.]

The moment the poem appeared, Situ Xuan's pupils constricted. He had never seen these words before, yet his heart suddenly contracted violently, as if struck by a heavy hammer.

Even more terrifying was that every character of the poem left an afterimage on his retinas; even when he looked away, the golden characters still formed a three-dimensional light screen in the air.

Click! Click! Click!

Three crisp sounds followed in succession, and three more chains snapped.

The Bronze Codex suddenly soared into the air, and the pages began to turn at an astonishing speed.

This time, with every page turned, dense streams of black characters peeled off the paper, condensing into tangible torrents in the air. Situ Xuan wanted to retreat, only to find his feet bound by ink-colored chains that had appeared out of nowhere.

"Get lost!"

Situ Xuan instinctively threw a punch at the chains, but his fist passed straight through the phantom shadows.

At the same time, the torrent of characters surged before him.

The black characters in the front row suddenly deformed, transforming into two distinct imprints—on the left, a palm print as black as ink with seven scarlet light spots glowing in the center; on the right, a silver-white totem of a fist path, with the pattern of the Big Dipper embedded in the knuckles.

Situ Xuan instinctively raised his hands to block, but the two imprints bypassed his arms like tired birds returning to their nest, sinking straight into the center of his brow.

"Ah—!"

An indescribable, excruciating pain exploded inside his skull. Situ Xuan collapsed to his knees, and the white space before him began to crumble.

He saw countless scenes of martial arts training flashing around him: silhouettes of a man in black practicing treacherous palm techniques under the moonlight, slow-motion footage of a burly man shattering granite with his fists, and various meridian pathways flashing and intersecting in the void.

All the images eventually collapsed into two streams of light that swirled continuously in his mind.

In the real world, Situ Xuan's body suddenly lurched forward, and he fell to the floor with a "thud."

The overturned teacup rolled far across the floor, the tea spreading a dark stain on the wooden planks.

Outside the window, a dark cloud happened to cover the moon, and the mechanical clock on the wall chimed the hour.

"Cough... cough-cough!"

With a violent cough, Situ Xuan abruptly pushed his upper body up.

As the moonlight spilled back in, it illuminated the dense beads of sweat on his forehead and the faint golden light that had yet to fade from his pitch-black pupils. He instinctively touched the center of his brow, where a subtle, burning sensation remained.

It wasn't a dream...

Situ Xuan looked down at his own hands; a strange power seemed to flow between the lines of his palms.

As he instinctively recalled the experience, two complete martial arts systems immediately surfaced in his mind—one, a set of overwhelmingly fierce fist techniques and breathing methods; the other, a sinister and ruthless palm technique and internal cultivation method, both as clear as an innate instinct.

The sound of alley cats fighting came from outside, and Situ Xuan turned to look out the window.

The silhouette of Aolai City under the moonlight was blurred, and the spire of the Spirit Pagoda shimmered in the distance. He slowly clenched his fists, his knuckles popping with a crisp sound.

"Interesting."

A cold arc curled the corner of the youth's mouth, and the golden light in his eyes vanished completely into his pitch-black pupils.

Black Heart Evil Palm, a powerful martial art practiced by the main antagonist Black Heart Tiger in the animation The Legend of Rainbow Cat and Blue Rabbit from his previous life, consisting of twelve levels, each with immense power.

Fist of the North Star, a legacy martial art practiced by the protagonist Kenshiro in the manga Fist of the North Star from his previous life, which tempers the physique and hones the will; the more intense the emotions, the stronger the martial artist becomes, utilizing the combination of Pressure Point Striking and fist techniques to achieve infinite wonders.

Obtaining such a fortuitous encounter could not help but make Situ Xuan feel excited.

Fist of the North Star had infinite uses for human body development, which was just right for his own Martial Soul—the Body.

The Black Heart Evil Palm had brought Situ Xuan an extremely urgent and necessary powerful cultivation method!

But compared to immediately beginning his cultivation, there was another important matter for Situ Xuan—obtaining a Soul Spirit.

The Sun Moon Empire unified the Douluo Continent and was later renamed the Sun Moon Federation.

The Spirit Pagoda organization has a history of ten thousand years. Because of their importance to Soul Masters and their epoch-making research into artificial Soul Spirits, their status has risen steadily. They have spread across the three continents, becoming one of the most powerful and influential forces.

Aolai City also has a branch of the Spirit Pagoda, located in the city center. It is a three-story tower-shaped building, which is the lowest level of Spirit Pagoda branch; those in medium-sized cities have seven stories, while those in large cities reach up to thirteen stories.

As for the headquarters of the Spirit Pagoda located in Shrek City, after years of renovations, it stands at eighty-one stories tall and is known as the most magnificent building on the Douluo Continent.

Situ Xuan walked alone toward the Aolai City branch of the Spirit Pagoda. The Spirit Pagoda was not bustling; one could even say that apart from the staff, there was practically no one there.

"Little friend, what are you doing here?"

A Spirit Master dressed in a gray robe stood up, looking at Situ Xuan, who looked somewhat youthful but had developed exceptionally quickly, and asked gently.

"To purchase a Soul Spirit."

Situ Xuan was concise and to the point, pulling a Federation Card from his pocket. "There are thirty thousand inside. I want to purchase a random Soul Spirit."

Seeing the young boy who had come all by himself, the Spirit Master patiently explained to Situ Xuan the potential drawbacks of a random Soul Spirit.

But for Situ Xuan, there were no issues at all. After a simple test of his mental power, the Spirit Master, having determined that everything was normal, personally led Situ Xuan to a machine that resembled a lottery machine from his past life.

Inside, various unknown Soul Spirit spheres were piled together, waiting for someone fated to take them away.

Efficiency—to Situ Xuan, when he was weak, he could not afford to waste any time.

Rather than agonizing over whether he might randomly get a defective Soul Spirit, it was better to finish the selection quickly, go home, absorb it, and officially begin his martial arts cultivation.

Thinking of this, a smile could not help but appear on Situ Xuan's face, and he pressed the green draw button without the slightest hesitation.