The Erosion of Reason

Zhong Shenxiu looked at the arrogant face before him, his Light Gold Vertical Pupils utterly still.

Since arriving in this world, he had seen far too many people like this.

Rich families would occasionally visit the orphanage to do charity work, and the children who came with them looked at the orphans exactly as Lin Xuan did now—looking down on them with condescension, charity, and disdain.

"No." Zhong Shenxiu said only one word, his tone calm yet absolute.

Lin Xuan froze, seemingly never expecting to be refused. A thousand Federal Coins was no small sum for an orphan, not to mention the protection of a "benefactor" like himself. This poor brat had actually refused?

"Say that again?" Lin Xuan's expression darkened.

"I said no."

Zhong Shenxiu repeated himself, then walked around Lin Xuan and headed straight for the door. "I'm going to eat."

"Stop right there!"

Lin Xuan spun around, anger creeping into his voice. "Who do you think you are? You dare refuse me? Believe it or not, I can make it impossible for you to stay at Eastsea Academy!"

Zhong Shenxiu stopped at the doorway and tilted his head slightly.

The setting sun outside the window happened to spill across half his face, making those Light Gold Vertical Pupils appear especially cold amid the shifting light and shadow.

"You can try," he said, then pulled open the door and walked out.

The door closed softly behind him, cutting him off from the dorm room.

Zhong Shenxiu walked down the corridor toward the stairs, his steps steady, as though the conflict just now had been nothing more than a trivial interruption. He truly had not taken Lin Xuan seriously—a spoiled rich boy, arrogant, overbearing, and self-important, but nothing more.

During nine years of slaughter within his dreams, he had seen true darkness and cruelty. A threat on Lin Xuan's level was not even worthy of making his heart race.

Still, trouble will come.

Zhong Shenxiu knew it well. With Lin Xuan's temperament, after being publicly rejected, he definitely would not let the matter rest. He would most likely find some way to provoke him.

Soldiers come, generals block them.

He thought it indifferently. As long as Lin Xuan did not cross his bottom line, he could ignore some minor squabbles. But if the other side went too far... he would not mind letting this rich young master experience what true fear was.

By the time he entered the cafeteria, dinner was already half over.

Zhong Shenxiu ordered a simple meal, found a seat in a corner, and ate quietly.

The Myriad Dragon Source Art was constantly operating and cultivating, absorbing the natural essence of heaven and earth around him.

Though it was not as fast as the vortex-like devouring speed when he actively circulated it, even this passive cultivation efficiency far surpassed any meditation method Zhong Shenxiu had ever encountered.

After cultivating for just one afternoon, Zhong Shenxiu already felt as though his Level 16 cultivation was about to break through!

Soul Power surged through his meridians, while the Soul Power vortex in his dantian grew increasingly solid, as if it could shatter some invisible barrier at any moment and step into Level 17.

This cultivation speed was absurd beyond belief!

Zhong Shenxiu was shaken. He had originally estimated that reaching Level 20 within two months would already be difficult, but at this rate, he could probably achieve it in one month—or even less.

As expected of the highest-tier cultivation art in the Dragon Fighting World, the Myriad Dragon Source Art's efficiency in converting natural essence and tempering the body far exceeded the ordinary meditation methods of the Douluo Continent.

But... the consumption is enormous too.

Zhong Shenxiu felt the hunger in his stomach. High-intensity cultivation accelerated his metabolism, and the little he had eaten at noon had long since been digested. Right now, he felt like he could eat an entire cow.

He quickly swept the food from his tray clean, then went back for another serving of rice and dishes. Only then did his hunger ease somewhat.

Cultivation requires more nutrition.

Zhong Shenxiu realized the problem. If he maintained this intensity of cultivation, he would need to consume far more food than an ordinary person every day. Otherwise, his body would not keep up with the expenditure.

The academy cafeteria did provide free meals, but the supply was limited. Anything beyond that had to be paid for.

Given his current financial situation, it would be difficult for him to afford the extra expense.

I need to find a way to make money. Zhong Shenxiu thought as he ate.

Maybe... I can try making some simple Soul Tools?

Zhong Shenxiu remembered that, while at the orphanage, he had learned some basic Soul Tool knowledge from a staff member. Though he had only scratched the surface, making a few small civilian gadgets should not be a problem.

For example, lighting Soul Tools, heating Soul Tools, cleaning Soul Tools... These daily necessities were in high demand and easy to make. They should earn him a little money.

Tomorrow, I'll go to the library and look up some information, then see whether Eastsea City has a market for the relevant materials. Zhong Shenxiu made up his mind.

After eating and drinking his fill, Zhong Shenxiu felt brimming with energy.

Driven by the Myriad Dragon Source Art, the Soul Power within his body circulated on its own. Strands of natural essence were absorbed and transformed, bringing a continuous sense of strengthening.

In a good mood, he headed toward the dormitory building, preparing to continue cultivating that night.

At this rate, he might be able to break through to Level 17 tonight.

But the moment he pushed open the door to Dorm 307, all his good mood instantly vanished.

The room was lit up. Besides Lin Xuan, there were two unfamiliar boys inside.

One was tall and skinny, with a fawning smile on his face as he stood beside Lin Xuan and said something. The other was a chubby boy sitting on Zhong Shenxiu's bed, holding a bag of snacks and scattering crumbs all over it as he ate.

And Zhong Shenxiu's bed was a complete mess.

His pillow had been thrown onto the floor, marked with obvious footprints.

His blanket had been yanked apart and tossed onto the ground, covered in dust. Most glaring of all, the metal box containing ten thousand Federal Coins was sitting open on Lin Xuan's desk, completely empty.

The few old clothes Zhong Shenxiu had brought with him had also been dug out and carelessly tossed beside the bed.

The dorm room was filled with the smell of snacks and a faint scent of sweat.

Zhong Shenxiu stood in the doorway, his golden vertical pupils slowly sweeping over the three people in the room. His face showed no expression at all, calm to a terrifying degree, yet it seemed as though magma was churning deep within his eyes.

When Lin Xuan saw Zhong Shenxiu return, a mocking smile curled across his lips. He leaned back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, watching Zhong Shenxiu as though enjoying a show. The tall, skinny boy beside him also started laughing, his eyes full of provocation.

The chubby boy sitting on Zhong Shenxiu's bed was even more direct. He grabbed a handful of snack crumbs and deliberately scattered them over Zhong Shenxiu's bed.

They were waiting—waiting for anger, humiliation, and collapse to appear on Zhong Shenxiu's face.

But Zhong Shenxiu did not give them any of that.

He merely watched everything quietly, his golden vertical pupils gleaming with an icy light beneath the lamps.

That gaze did not belong to a nine-year-old child. It was more like a ferocious beast assessing prey that had intruded into its territory, carrying an almost cruel calmness.

For nine years, he had slaughtered, died, been reborn, and died again in the Dragon Fighting World every night... Zhong Shenxiu had accumulated an unknown amount of violent emotion within himself.

The pain and rage of being torn apart by the Star Dragon, brutally killed by the Black Death Dragon, and consumed by darkness were all suppressed in the deepest recesses of his heart, tightly bound by chains called "reason."

And now, those chains were creaking under unbearable strain.