Points' Effects

Zhao Cheng hadn't arrived just on time. He'd come a while early, so there weren't many people in the classroom.

For all these days, Zhao Cheng had kept this up, completely breaking his old habit of sleeping in.

Back then, he hadn't practiced swordsmanship nearly as diligently as he did now. He usually trained at night, and sometimes even gave himself a day off. Life had been downright carefree.

Not anymore. Now he trained twice a day, every day of the year, come rain or shine.

There were no shortcuts in swordsmanship. Even with astonishing talent, one still had to put in the work to learn, and every effort brought its reward.

By Zhao Cheng's estimate, his swordsmanship had probably only been lv2 six months ago. Raising it to lv4 in half a year was the result of diligence.

After all, he'd been exposed to swordsmanship since elementary school and had been building his foundations ever since.

With swordsmanship, training sporadically instead of twice a day might seem to mean only about a third as much practice time, but in reality, the results differed by more than tenfold.

If Zhao Cheng hadn't pushed himself over the past six months, even five years later, his swordsmanship wouldn't have reached lv4.

The closer one pushed the body to its limits during training, the better the results.

Of course, pushing too hard wouldn't work either. There might be considerable progress in the short term, but over time, the body would break down.

It all came down to knowing where to draw the line.

As for now, Zhao Cheng had covered in one night the road that would have taken years to walk in the future. In his mind, his swordsmanship had already reached lv8; all that remained was for his body to get used to it.

Many swordsmen were at about this level in Basic Swordsmanship when they reached the Quietude stage.

Of course, those people's Basic Swordsmanship levels weren't merely lv8. But they'd only improved their swordsmanship after becoming swordsmen and reaching a higher vantage point from which to look back at their former selves.

When he reached his seat, Zhao Cheng first stuffed the book he was carrying into his desk, then pulled out a light novel.

It was still that copy of Strange Tales of Swordcraft. Compared with those history books that were a slog to get through, these miscellaneous tales of the supernatural were much more entertaining. And though they couldn't teach him as much as proper history books, they still had plenty to offer.

Zhao Cheng read with relish, taking his time with each word and sentence. When he finished, he could usually remember something, rather than having skimmed through the book without taking anything in.

The reading also helped restore his tired mind.

The fatigue after each training session was agonizing. It wasn't sleepiness, but an emptiness in his heart. Physical exercise used up physical strength, while mental exercise consumed emotions.

At times like this, reading something light recharged him.

Of course, according to Zhao Cheng's research, the best way to restore his emotions was to zone out and let his mind run wild. He had to let his willpower spread out—as far as possible.

The more focused he was, the slower his recovery. Once he crossed a certain threshold, it stopped being recovery and became depletion instead.

During the first month of those six months, Zhao Cheng had stumbled along, searching everywhere for guides while experimenting on himself. He'd learned to arrange and make use of his time efficiently, and that was how he'd developed the complete, high-efficiency training regimen he used now.

The specifics of how he'd done it weren't something he could share with outsiders.

Without a good teacher to guide him personally and pass on their experience, he had to figure everything out on his own, which naturally made things more difficult.

Zhao Cheng didn't read for long. Soon, his classmates began arriving one after another, and then the teacher came too. Only then did he put away the light novel and start zoning out, his mind an empty expanse as his thoughts gradually dispersed and drifted farther afield.

The teacher didn't bother to scold Zhao Cheng for it. At least he was awake, with his eyes open. Some of his classmates were far more brazen: some openly slept with their heads on their desks. Who knew what they'd been doing the night before?

Others bobbed their heads, dozing off in fits and starts.

All in all, the little classroom put on a whole pageant of life first thing in the morning.

At this hour, Zhao Cheng's thoughts were at their slowest. Based on his own observations, even letting his mind run wild followed the law of conservation: the fuller his heart was with emotion, the faster the storm in his mind turned.

Right now, he was still in low-battery power-saving mode. He wouldn't switch to high-performance mode until after lunch and a nap.

Outside the window, the sun shone brightly, golden light streaming in and gilding some of the students.

Along with the teacher's voice and the occasional whisper, which buzzed like a mosquito, it created an atmosphere of peaceful tranquility, carefree and serene.

Zhao Cheng spent the morning zoning out like that, occasionally exchanging a few idle words with Zhou Yu. Before he knew it, time seemed to speed up.

At noon, Zhao Cheng ate, read, and took a nap, keeping to a simple routine.

After his nap, during the first class, Zhao Cheng unusually didn't zone out. Instead, he opened the Shop in the Panel and spent three Simulation Points to exchange for one Attribute Point, one Skill Point, and one Evolution Point.

He planned to test just how powerful these three types of points were.

The results would also affect how he chose to use his Simulation Points.

He wanted a lot of things right now, but had very few points. He had to pinch every penny and aim for the best possible return.

First was the Attribute Point. Zhao Cheng tapped the plus sign beside Vitality, and a prompt immediately appeared: Would you like to spend 1 Attribute Point to raise Vitality to 1.51?

One Attribute Point could only raise it by 0.01, a 1% increase.

But on second thought, that made sense. Every time an attribute value increased by one, it became 1.5 times greater. Vitality was an overall value, a midway force born from the union of mind and body—a force that transcended matter, yet wasn't quite spiritual.

Raising it meant improving the whole.

An increase of 0.01 Vitality probably strengthened him overall by one two-hundredth.

Considering the exchange cost of an Attribute Point, that was already a pretty substantial increase.

Zhao Cheng selected "No," then tapped the plus sign beside Strength.

Would you like to spend 1 Attribute Point to raise Strength to 6.11?

Would you like to spend 1 Attribute Point to raise Agility to 6.51?

Would you like to spend 1 Attribute Point to raise Constitution to 5.52?

Would you like to spend 1 Attribute Point to raise Spirit to 7.505?

The higher the attribute, the less an Attribute Point increased it.

Below six, one Attribute Point raised an attribute by 0.02; below seven, it raised it by 0.01; above seven, it raised it by 0.005.

Compared with the Coward's Savior's price of three hundred Simulation Points, Attribute Points weren't very cost-effective.

However, after thinking it over, Zhao Cheng realized that once he spent an Attribute Point, the increase was immediate. He didn't have to do anything else.

The Coward's Savior, on the other hand, was a catalyst—or perhaps a key—that stimulated and guided the human body's innate potential. The process was slow and required a great deal of nutritional supplementation.

Attribute Points directly transformed into power!

Naturally, that meant they were more expensive.

Next came the Skill Point. He spent one on his Swordsmanship skill, and a prompt immediately popped up.

Would you like to spend 1 Skill Point to increase conversion progress by 1%?

The increase wasn't too much or too little. Zhao Cheng's current swordsmanship was: 17th Basic Swordsmanship 6th Revised Edition lv8 (lv8) (26/70) (31% converting)