The Armory!

"This is overdrawing his potential!"

"This is forcing growth by pulling on the seedlings!"

"Just watch, this kind of extreme education might make him look more mature than his peers in the early stages, but it will certainly damage his foundation, and his future achievements will be limited."

Yu Xiaogang delivered this theory with absolute certainty.

The surrounding Shrek members heard this and were suddenly enlightened.

"As expected of the Master!"

Ma Hongjun slapped his thigh, his shock instantly turning into disdain:

"I knew it, what kind of three-year-old brat pretends to be so profound."

"So he was just overdrawing his potential!"

"Tsk tsk, it seems this White World Dai Mubai doesn't have a very good brain."

Oscar also nodded repeatedly:

"We are much luckier."

"If I had been forced to learn how to kill at three years old, I think I would have gone crazy."

Under Yu Xiaogang's "authoritative certification," the mentality of the Black World group quickly balanced out.

They no longer felt that the White Emperor was all that impressive.

Instead, they felt he was a poor wretch whose childhood had been ruined, a short-lived ghost destined not to go far.

White World, Star Luo Imperial Palace.

Unlike the sourness in the Black World.

Here, the grand hall was filled with exclamation and worship.

"Three years old..."

Qian Renxue looked at the image on the Sky Screen, a trace of deep surprise flashing through her beautiful golden eyes.

She was a peerless genius with Innate Full Soul Power of level twenty.

She was the successor of the Angel God.

But even she, at three years old, was just listening to her grandfather tell stories in the Worship Hall and occasionally acting spoiled.

Taking the initiative to learn killing techniques?

That was something that only started after awakening her Martial Soul at six years old.

"Your Majesty, you really make Xue'er feel defeated."

Qian Renxue turned around, her beautiful face carrying a hint of coquettishness; her originally cold and holy temperament vanished completely in front of Dai Mubai.

She stretched out her slender fingers, gently drawing circles on Dai Mubai's chest:

"I always thought I had supreme talent."

"I didn't expect that Your Majesty had already started planning for the world at three years old."

"No wonder you can suppress the two great empires so they can't even lift their heads, and even Martial Soul Hall has to look at your expression."

Ning Rongrong was also holding her heart with both hands, her eyes filled with little stars:

"So handsome!"

"Your Majesty at three years old had such an imposing aura!"

"That line, 'learn killing techniques,' was simply too cool!"

"Unlike that one in the Black World, who only knows how to play in the mud; what an embarrassment."

On the other side of the high platform.

Zhu Zhuqing did not speak.

She just quietly leaned against Dai Mubai's side, her tight leather outfit outlining her explosive figure to the fullest.

Her cold, clear eyes were now filled with pride and infatuation.

Looking at the small, determined figure on the Sky Screen.

Zhu Zhuqing's heart was melting.

This was her man.

Different from the start, a true king from a young age.

She leaned in slightly, her full curves pressing against Dai Mubai's arm, bringing an astonishingly elastic sensation.

"Your Majesty."

Zhu Zhuqing exhaled like an orchid, her voice soft and bone-melting:

"The me in that world is blind."

"But the Zhuqing of this world is very fortunate."

"Fortunate to have met someone as outstanding as you."

As she spoke, she extended the tip of her tongue to gently lick her red lips, a gesture filled with an extremely dangerous allure.

She wanted everyone to know.

This man was her pride.

Seeing Zhuqing acting so "flirtatious," Xiao Wu on the other side was immediately displeased.

"Hmph!"

Xiao Wu huffed angrily, her pink eyes filled with jealousy.

"Sister Zhuqing, the way you say that."

"It's as if we have no taste ourselves."

Xiao Wu pushed her way in, burying her head into the chest of Dai Mubai, not forgetting to rub her long legs against his knees:

"I like Brother Mubai the most too!"

"That Dai Mubai from the Black World is just a piece of trash, not even fit to carry Brother Mubai's shoes!"

Below the great hall.

The civil and military officials watched the scene of these stunning beauties vying for favor on the high platform, each of them keeping their eyes fixed on their own noses, not daring to look too closely.

His Majesty's immense fortune with women was a testament to his own great ability.

They only needed to worship the demeanor of the young emperor on the Sky Screen.

Just then.

The images on the Sky Screen began to shift rapidly.

[White World: Self-discipline is invincibility!]

In the image.

The sky was just beginning to brighten, probably around four in the morning.

The entire palace was still immersed in sleep.

Three-year-old Dai Mubai had already rolled out of bed.

There were no maids to help him dress, and no lingering in bed.

He nimbly put on his training clothes, splashed his face with cold water, and then dove straight into the Royal Library.

The images flashed by quickly.

In the early morning, he was studying obscure military treatises, his small brows furrowed, his hand holding a brush as he made constant annotations.

At noon, he stood in a horse stance under the scorching sun, sweat soaking through his clothes, dripping from his chin onto the searing stone floor, where it evaporated instantly.

But he did not move an inch.

His legs were trembling, yet his eyes remained as firm as a rock.

In the evening, he was listening to the Grand Tutor's lectures on the empire's territory, spirit master theory, and the situation on the continent.

Late at night, he was in the meditation room, sensing the spirit power of heaven and earth.

Day after day.

Year after year.

Time in the image flew by, but the content was shockingly monotonous.

No playing.

No frolicking.

Even smiles were rarely seen.

That small figure was like a precision machine with a set program, tireless, knowing no pleasure, frantically absorbing every bit of nourishment that could make him stronger.

The images on the Sky Screen struck hard at the nerves of everyone in the Black World.

Black World.

The crowd, who had been mocking him earlier, gradually found they could no longer laugh.

An inexplicable sense of suffocation shrouded their hearts.

"Is... is this a life for a human?"

Ma Hongjun swallowed hard, watching the small figure in the image who insisted on running through a heavy downpour, feeling completely uneasy:

"Even a robot would need to refuel or take a break, right?"

"He's only three years old!"

"Is it really necessary to be this desperate?"

"I'm starting to wonder if he even knows what fatigue feels like?"

Many commoner spirit masters felt their scalps tingle as they watched.

They usually felt they were working incredibly hard if they managed to cultivate for an hour or two.

But compared to the person on the Sky Screen.

They were practically just wasting their lives away!

"Even a prince is working this hard..."

Someone muttered to themselves, their tone filled with despair:

"Not only is his background better than ours and his talent higher, but he's also a hundred times more diligent."

"How are we ordinary people supposed to live?"

This kind of comprehensive crushing made it impossible to even feel jealousy; all that remained was a profound sense of powerlessness.

Meanwhile.

Dai Mubai from the Black World, who served as the point of comparison, had a face that had turned ugly to the extreme.

He was broken.

Completely broken.

Watching that person who looked exactly like him living such a hellish life.

Dai Mubai only felt an unbearable itch crawling all over his skin.