Do You Want to Become an All-Round Soul Master?

After bathing, the two returned to their dormitory.

Ma Hongjun collapsed headfirst onto his bed, not even wanting to move a finger.

The wooden bed was hard, the pillow was wood, and the bedding was so thin that light could shine through it.

Yet at that moment, this crude bed looked more comfortable to him than a king-sized bed in a five-star hotel.

Oscar lay on the neighboring bed, looking just as half-dead.

"Hongjun," Oscar said weakly, "are you still alive?"

"Almost dead." Ma Hongjun's voice was muffled by his pillow. "Is Teacher Zhao a demon?"

"You'll get used to it." Oscar rolled over and stared at the ceiling. "I was the same when I first came. I couldn't get out of bed on the first day, then Teacher Zhao dragged me up on the second day and made me keep training. And you know what? I trained and trained until I got used to it."

Ma Hongjun laboriously rolled over onto his back and stared at the roof beam above him, which looked ready to snap.

The room fell quiet, with only their breathing audible.

Outside, insects chirped one after another. Moonlight streamed through the window lattice, casting a patch of silver-white light across the floor.

Ma Hongjun looked at that moonlight, but his mind was elsewhere.

Today's practical combat training had given him a clearer understanding of his own strength.

After Martial Soul Possession, his physical abilities truly surpassed those of his peers, but against a genuine expert, that little advantage was hardly worth mentioning.

Li Yusong had not even lit up a soul ring, yet he had toyed with him using nothing but a stick.

The gap was far too great.

But that was not what concerned him most right now.

What concerned him was Oscar.

In the courtyard today, he had noticed the look in Oscar's eyes as he watched him fight.

That envy, that yearning, that desire to say, I want to be like you too.

Oscar wanted to become a Battle Soul Master.

It was an emotional thread never explicitly stated in the original novel, yet one that had always been there.

The Oscar of the original novel seemed carefree and silly on the surface, hiding everything behind a lewd grin.

But deep down, he regretted being a Food-Type Soul Master.

Especially among the Shrek Seven Devils, where the other six were Battle Soul Masters with overwhelming combat power, while he alone was support.

He never complained, never voiced his grievances, and accepted everything with a smile.

But Ma Hongjun knew it was not that he did not care. He had merely hidden how much he cared.

A thought suddenly came to Ma Hongjun.

He had had this thought back when he read the original novel in his previous life.

A Sausage Martial Soul, a food type—it really did not sound like it had much combat potential.

But what if he looked at it from another angle?

Soul Masters obtained soul rings by hunting soul beasts, and each soul ring granted a soul skill.

These soul skills came in all varieties: attack, defense, control, support.

And Oscar's sausages could allow others to gain the effects of these soul skills.

So here was the question.

What if Oscar ate his own sausages?

In theory, the soul skill effects contained within the sausages would also work on the person who ate them.

In other words, Oscar could completely rely on eating his own sausages to gain the enhancements of various soul skills.

Attack sausages for attack, defense sausages for defense, speed sausages for speed.

Would a Food-Type Soul Master who stacked himself full of buffs really lack combat power?

This idea had been discussed by many readers in his previous life.

But the original novel had not developed in that direction. Perhaps Tang San's protagonist halo had been too powerful, compressing everyone else's growth arcs.

But now that Ma Hongjun was in this world himself, he felt they could give it a try.

"Oscar," Ma Hongjun suddenly said.

"Yeah?" Oscar responded weakly.

"Let me ask you something."

"Go ahead."

Ma Hongjun sat up in bed. The moonlight fell across his face, making his expression appear especially serious.

"Do you want to become an all-round fighter?"

Oscar froze for a moment, then turned to look at Ma Hongjun.

"What do you mean?"

"Attack, defense, speed, support, recovery, control... every ability gathered in one person."

Ma Hongjun enunciated each word. "Not just a support who stands behind his teammates shouting 'Nice!' but a fighter who can charge to the front and face enemies head-on."

Oscar's eyes slowly widened.

He sat up in bed so quickly that he did not look like someone who had been exhausted all day.

"What did you say?"

"I said," Ma Hongjun said, staring into his eyes, "I have a bold idea that could make you an all-round fighter. But I cannot guarantee it will work. I need someone willing to gamble on their future."

The air went still.

Oscar stared directly at Ma Hongjun, his gaze filled with shock, confusion, and a trace of... hope.

He did not speak.

Neither did Ma Hongjun pressure him. He simply waited quietly.

He knew how crazy this proposal was.

Making a Food-Type Soul Master into an all-round fighter had virtually no precedent in the history of the Douluo Continent.

If Oscar agreed, it meant walking a road no one had ever walked before. There would be no experience to draw upon and no predecessors to guide him.

If he succeeded, he would become the founding pioneer.

If he failed...

Ma Hongjun did not consider the possibility of failure.

Because logically, this theory held up.

Sausages could provide buffs to others, so why could they not provide buffs to their maker as well?

As long as Oscar was willing to try, and as long as his Martial Soul did not reject this method of use, then this path was viable.

The only problem was that no one had ever proven it.

And proving it required a price.

Oscar remained silent for a long time.

The chirping insects outside became especially clear.

"Is what you said true?" Oscar finally asked, his voice slightly tight.

"I'm not sure," Ma Hongjun said honestly. "But I think it's worth trying."

Oscar stared at him for several seconds, then suddenly broke into a grin.

It was unlike his usual careless smile. It held an indescribable determination.

"Hongjun, you're an interesting person," Oscar said. "Everyone else tells me that a Food-Type Soul Master should stay in the back and not drag down their teammates. You're the first person to tell me I can charge to the front."

Ma Hongjun said nothing.

"I'll take the gamble," Oscar said. His voice was not loud, but it was decisive. "No matter what your bold idea is, I'm willing to try."

Ma Hongjun looked at Oscar, and the corners of his mouth slowly rose.

"You agreed without even hearing the idea first? What if I sold you off?"

"You can't sell me." Oscar chuckled. "Dean Flender would tear you apart first."

Ma Hongjun laughed too.

Their laughter echoed through the crude dormitory, dispelling the stillness of the night.

Oscar sat cross-legged on the bed, his hands braced on his knees as he stared intensely at Ma Hongjun.

"Go on, then. What's your bold idea?"

Just as Ma Hongjun was about to speak, he suddenly heard a cough from the neighboring room.

"Cough, cough—"

It was Flender's voice.

"You two brats have training tomorrow. Get to sleep."

Ma Hongjun and Oscar looked at each other and shut their mouths at the same time.

But Oscar's eyes were still shining.

It was a light Ma Hongjun had never seen in his eyes before.

Not lewdness, not laughter, but longing and anticipation for the future.

Ma Hongjun lay back down and stared at the ceiling.

Tomorrow would not be too late.

After all, Oscar had already agreed.

He had the whole night to organize this bold idea into something more complete, more concrete, and more convincing.

To make a Food-Type Soul Master into an all-round fighter.

This wild idea from his previous life might truly become reality through Oscar.