Rising to Fame

Yun Lan accepted the 1 million private points transferred by the Kendo Club president, Sato.

"These points," he began, his voice echoing slightly in the empty dojo, "I will accept. Because a promise is a promise."

The air grew taut. A flush of humiliation rose on the faces of several second and third-year students.

"However—" Yun Lan raised his eyes, his gaze meeting the sharp stare of president Sato with calm composure, "Kendo is supposed to be a path where heart, technique, and body unite; it is a discipline that pursues purity and glory. By using points as a bargaining chip and tying victory to profit, I have fundamentally tarnished that glory."

He paused, then said clearly, enunciating every word:

"Therefore, in my heart, the truly pure ones remain all of you seniors who sweat here every day, asking for nothing in return, seeking only self-improvement. What you protect is what Kendo is truly meant to be."

Kendo Club president Sato slowly stood his bamboo sword upright at his side. This tall, rugged third-year student no longer wore an expression of anger, but rather a complex look of settled contemplation. He stepped forward and sat down in the formal seiza position before Yun Lan, the two of them facing each other from a distance of three steps.

"Junior Yun Lan," president Sato's voice was low, carrying the lingering rasp of their match, "you are right, but you are not entirely right."

As he spoke, the Kendo Club president leaned forward slightly, like a predator assessing one of its own kind:

"You tarnished the form of glory, yet you demonstrated the 'truth' at the core of Kendo—absolute strength, absolute analysis, and absolute victory. So, even though I do not like your methods..."

The Kendo Club president suddenly tugged at the corner of his mouth, a stiff but acknowledging smile that belonged only to a swordsman:

"But your strength, I, as your senior, acknowledge."

A faint commotion stirred in the dojo. Several of the previously indignant upperclassmen froze, watching as their proud president personally acknowledged this first-year student who had extorted points using "dirty" tactics.

Yun Lan remained silent for a long moment, then bowed deeply. He then left the Kendo Club.

Watching Yun Lan's retreating figure, the dojo remained silent for a long time.

President Sato stood up, scanned the room, and his voice became booming once more:

"Everyone! Three thousand more swings for today's training! We will let that kid who looks down on glory know that the 'truth' of Kendo lies not only in seeing through an opponent, but in the conviction forged by sweat that can never be seen through!"

"Yes!"

The shout shook the eaves of the dojo.

In the following sessions, he harvested points from the Karate Club, Kyudo Club, and Judo Club in the same manner.

By the time the last club had been successfully challenged, Yun Lan closed his phone. The moment the screen went dark, it reflected his expressionless face.

"Leave a line of retreat for others, so you may meet again in the future," he whispered, his voice dissipating into the night wind outside the window.

Draining them dry was certainly possible. But resentment would grow like weeds, eventually backfiring on him. He did not want a group of enemies who had been stripped of everything and harbored bitter hatred; he wanted a web woven from "unwillingness" and "curiosity."

"No matter how strong one person is, there are limits..." Yun Lan looked out the window, the lights of the club building reflecting in his deep black pupils like stars, "A powerful team is infinite. And teams often begin with unequal transactions and connections that cannot be easily severed."

His phone vibrated. Honami Ichinose sent a message:

"I've arrived. Where are you? It's really quite windy out here... (;′⌒`)"

The corners of Yun Lan's mouth lifted slightly, and he replied quickly:

"Look up, at the window on the far east side of the third floor."

He saw the chestnut-haired girl by the bench in the central courtyard below look up, just as he expected, toward his direction. The streetlights cast a fuzzy halo of light around her; she waved her hand slightly, while her other hand clutched a scarf she had seemingly brought to ward off the cold.

Yun Lan left the window and headed for the stairs. His footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, passing club rooms that were still lit, from which various sounds of training emanated. Those places he had "harvested" now seemed to have become part of his invisible territory.

He did not look back.

True harvesting is never about plundering everything. It is about planting seeds, cultivating the soil, letting everything grow on a controllable track, and finally, when the time is right, reaping the entire forest.

And now, he had a more important "cultivation" subject to meet.

The warm breeze passed through the corridor, fluttering the hem of his uniform. Yun Lan's pace was steady and clear, just like the chess games he laid out; every step calculated the present while paving the way for the future. Points flowed between accounts, human hearts fluctuated in the game, and he would walk among them, weaving his own silent and resilient web.

However, what Yun Lan did not know was that the news of the same person successfully challenging every club had already spread.

Students from various clubs within the building were exchanging information.

"Wait, you guys got challenged too? Could it really be a first-year freshman?"

"Are you guys too? Seriously? Senior Sato from the Kendo Club, Senior Ushijima from the Karate Club, and even Senior Kanzaki from the Kyudo Club... they all lost?"

"Not just them! The Judo Club, the Shogi Club, even the Tea Ceremony Club! Rumor has it even the Poetry Appreciation Club didn't escape!"

"Is he a monster?! Fighting, board games, sports, literature... is there anything he can't do?"

"He really is a Great Demon King... the first-year 'Great Demon King' Yun Lan."

Meanwhile, when Yun Lan was having dinner with Honami Ichinose in the cafeteria, it was only then, informed by Honami, that he learned the matter had spread.

Honami Ichinose said to Yun Lan: "Brother Lan, it seems like it's already spread everywhere. With that title of Great Demon King, you've become the center of discussion for the first, second, and third years."

Yun Lan leaned back in his chair, his expression distant and calm.

"What is meant to come will come. Reputation is a double-edged sword; used well, it can become armor, or even a weapon." He looked out the window, his gaze seemingly passing through the twilight sunset, landing on a deeper level of the campus, "As for the confidentiality clauses in the contracts... the contracts have long since ended, so naturally, they aren't in breach. The terms stated confidentiality only until my sweep was finished. So they haven't violated anything."

Yun Lan stood up and picked up the jacket draped over his chair: "Let's go, I'll walk you back to the dormitory. It's getting late."

Honami also stood up and walked to his side. The two walked out of the restaurant together, stepping into the cool wind. The setting sun stretched their shadows long, intertwining them.

Yun Lan pondered internally: Reputation is a blade; it can harm oneself, but it can also harm the enemy. And he was the wielder, knowing every ounce of its weight, every inch of its edge. The vortex had already formed, and he was right at the center—the calmest, yet most lethal—eye of the storm.

The sunset outside the cafeteria cast his shadow long, projecting it onto the campus territory he had quietly stirred and which would eventually be reshaped because of him.