The Classic "Blind and Unseeing"

"What the... what the hell..."

He instinctively took two steps back, his calves trembling.

What kind of monster was this?

Six years old? Two point two meters tall? Muscles?

Su Mo looked down at him, his six-year-old face devoid of expression, yet the sheer pressure he exerted was palpable.

Zhang Fugui swallowed hard.

He was afraid.

He was truly afraid.

But the next second, fear turned into rage.

He, a dignified gatekeeper of Notting Academy and a level seventeen battle spirit master, was being intimidated by a six-year-old brat?

There were so many colleagues watching!

If this got out, how could he, Zhang Fugui, ever show his face again?

Flushed with shame and anger, his face turned beet red. He pointed at Su Mo's nose and cursed, "Kid, who do you think you're scaring?! So what if you got bigger? I'm a level seventeen spirit master! Beating up a little brat who just awakened is child's play!"

Su Mo didn't move.

Thinking he had intimidated the boy, Zhang Fugui grew bolder. He stepped forward, his finger almost poking Su Mo in the chest—

"Your mother is a pauper, and you're a pauper too! A whole family of paupers, and you dare to come to Notting Academy to cause trouble? Today, I'll teach you a lesson on behalf of your good-for-nothing mother!"

Su Mo's eyes changed completely.

In that instant, Zhang Fugui felt a chill shoot up his spine.

But it was already too late.

Before he could pull his hand back, Su Mo had already moved.

No spirit skill, just an ordinary punch.

"Bang!"

Zhang Fugui felt a massive force slam into his chest. He flew back three meters like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily onto the ground.

Knees on the floor.

Hands bracing his weight.

Like a dead dog.

The surroundings fell into a deathly silence.

Zhang Fugui looked down at his own posture, then up at Su Mo, his eyes filled with disbelief.

He was level seventeen.

He was a spirit master.

He had been knocked to his knees by a six-year-old with a single punch?

"You... you..." His lips trembled, unable to form words.

The other gatekeepers nearby were stunned as well.

What just happened?

They only saw a shadow fly out, and then their brother was kneeling there.

It took a full three seconds for someone to react.

"Rebellion! Someone is causing trouble at the academy!"

"Surround him! Don't let him run!"

"Go get help!"

The guards swarmed forward, encircling Su Mo.

Zhang Fugui was helped up, his knees still shaking, but his mouth remained defiant.

He sneered and stepped forward:

"You think you're good at fighting? Being good at fighting is useless! In this world, you need influence and you need connections! Do you have any?!"

"Turns out you're just a little punk."

Su Mo paused for a moment.

Then, he smiled.

He remembered his past life.

Back then, he had just graduated and hit wall after wall looking for work. He finally found a security guard job—the pay wasn't high, but it was stable. He went for an interview, and they told him to "wait for notification."

He waited for a week, but it never came.

He later found out the position had been promised to someone else long ago—a relative of one of the managers.

That relative knew nothing, yet simply because he had connections, he could easily land that job.

And he, because he had no connections, couldn't even become a security guard.

Su Mo thought at the time: If I could be a security guard, sitting at the gate every day, drinking tea and reading the newspaper, that would be pretty great.

Unfortunately, he didn't have that kind of luck.

Now, in the same scenario, in a different world, it was still the same.

Seeing that he wasn't speaking, Zhang Fugui assumed he was afraid and became even more emboldened: "What? Cat got your tongue? Let me tell you, my cousin is the logistics manager of the academy!"

The more he spoke, the more smug he became, and the few guards around him joined in the jeering.

"That's right! Brother Fugui's cousin is Manager Zhang Guiren!"

"A manager at Notting Spirit Master Academy! Someone who has a real say in the academy!"

"Daring to act wild at Notting Academy, you're just looking for death!"

Zhang Fugui's face was twisted with malice: "Kid, you're done for! My cousin will be here any second! I'm going to make sure you can't enter the academy, and I'll have you thrown into prison!"

Su Mo sighed.

This plot was truly cliché.

But there was no helping it; he had to go through with it.

Just as he was about to speak, he suddenly heard footsteps coming from behind him.

"Quick, quick, Deacon Su, please, this way!"

A middle-aged man in a silk shirt was nodding and bowing as he accompanied someone toward them.

It was none other than Zhang Guiren.

And the person he was accompanying was the Spirit Hall Deacon, Su Yuntao.

Zhang Guiren was all smiles: "It is truly an honor to have Deacon Su come to inspect our academy! If you need anything, just say the word!"

Su Yuntao waved his hand: "Manager Zhang is too kind. I am here today mainly to welcome a distinguished guest."

"A distinguished guest?" Zhang Guiren was stunned. "What kind of guest could make you come to welcome them in person?"

Su Yuntao smiled slightly: "It is a... benefactor of mine. He is coming to the academy to enroll today."

Zhang Guiren's eyes lit up: "I see! Which young master is it? I will go make arrangements right away and ensure he is well-received!"

As the two talked, they reached the academy gate.

Then, Zhang Guiren froze.

A crowd was gathered at the gate, making a ruckus.

His cousin, Zhang Fugui, was being propped up, his face twisted with malice as he shouted and yelled at a giant over two meters tall.

Zhang Guiren's heart skipped a beat.

What was going on?

Just as he was about to shout a reprimand, he saw the Su Yuntao beside him suddenly quicken his pace, bypass him, and walk straight toward the giant.

Then, to Zhang Guiren's shock—

Su Yuntao cupped his hands and bowed respectfully until his back was parallel to the ground.

"Student Su Yuntao greets Mr. Su Mo."

The entire scene fell silent.

Zhang Fugui's mouth hung open, his jaw nearly dislocating.

Zhang Guiren's vision went dark; he nearly fainted.

What had he just said?

"Are you good at fighting? What the hell is the use of being good at fighting! When you're out in the world, you need influence, you need a background!"

And then, his greatest background—the Spirit Hall Deacon his cousin was accompanying—walked over and bowed respectfully to the person he was currently berating.

Calling him "Mr."

Zhang Fugui's brain completely crashed.

The guards around them, who had just been clamoring to "surround him and don't let him run," now retreated three steps in unison, as if they had discussed it, wishing they could shrink into the cracks in the wall.

Zhang Guiren's reaction was a bit faster than theirs.

After all, having managed to become a manager at the academy, he still possessed basic survival instincts.

He rushed over in two strides and slapped the back of Zhang Fugui's head, the sound as crisp as a firecracker.

"Smack!"

Zhang Fugui was spun around in place by the slap, dazed: "Cou, cousin..."

"Cousin, my foot!" Zhang Guiren kicked him in the back of the knee. "You blind fool! Is Mr. Su Mo someone you can afford to offend?!"

Zhang Fugui's knees went weak, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud.

He raised his head to look at the two-meter-twenty mountain of muscle before him, that six-year-old child's face looking down at him from above with an expression as calm as if he were watching an ant.

Zhang Fugui's calves began to tremble again.

But his brain moved faster than his legs.

The next second, his face was plastered with a smile that looked even worse than crying.

"Mr. Su Mo! This lowly one has eyes but failed to recognize a superior! This lowly one deserves to die! This lowly one didn't know you were Deacon Su's... that..."

He didn't know how to address him.

Mister? Too young.

My Lord? Not quite right.

Grandpa? That seemed even more wrong.

But it didn't matter; he would kowtow first and worry about it later!

"Thud! Thud! Thud!"

Zhang Fugui knocked his head against the ground like he was pounding garlic, his forehead hitting the floor with dull thuds, turning red after only a few strikes.

"This lowly one's mouth is foul! This lowly one deserves a beating! Your Excellency, please be magnanimous and just let this lowly one go like a fart!"