Oscar: How Do You Look Older Than Me?

Tang San's face instantly flushed crimson on both sides. He panted like a bull, bloodshot veins nearly bursting from his eyes.

I could let that old man at the first test humiliate me, but you, a mere street vendor, dared to humiliate me too!

You have chosen death!

He glared at Oscar viciously. With a swift flick of his right hand, a poisoned silver needle as long as his index finger silently appeared in his palm.

Die!

But the moment he raised his hand, a pale hand suddenly appeared and grabbed his thick, short wrist. "We're classmates. Don't get worked up."

Lu Shi had not expected Tang San to genuinely harbor killing intent.

He had almost failed to stop him.

"Tang San, he's not an uncle. He may be covered in stubble, but he's actually not that old." He then said to Oscar, "His name is Tang San. He's one of this year's applicants. He's twelve."

You all misunderstood.

Tang San angrily tried to break free of Lu Shi's grip, but no matter how many times he exerted force, that hand remained completely motionless. His heart jolted in shock. He had not expected the gap between them to already be this enormous!

When Oscar saw the silver needle in Tang San's hand, his legs immediately went weak. Leaning against his food cart, he broke out in a cold sweat and hurriedly apologized, "Ahahaha, a misunderstanding. A huge misunderstanding!"

He had no doubt that if Lu Shi had arrived even a moment later, he would have died on the spot.

That was terrifying!

"I've got plenty of sausages here. Big sausages, small sausages, I've got them all. Eat whatever you want, take whatever you want. You can take them all if you like. If there aren't enough, I'll make more."

He spoke with a placating smile.

Dai Mubai hurried over as well, his expression equally unpleasant. If Lu Shi had not acted quickly, two monsters would have died among the students in a single day: Oscar would have been killed by Tang San, and Tang San would have been killed by Flender.

And it would all have been his fault for handling things poorly. Otherwise, none of this would have happened.

Originally, he had planned to wait until Tang San bought a sausage and handed it to Xiao Wu, then force Oscar to make sausages in public and recite his Soul Power incantation.

That would have embarrassed Tang San beyond measure, while Xiao Wu would have been grateful to him for being such a good person.

That had nearly gone horribly wrong...

"Tang San, don't be impulsive." Pointing at Oscar, he explained, "His name is Oscar, and he's also a Shrek student. He's a food-type Soul Master with an exceptionally unusual Martial Soul. He has no offensive ability at all, but the meat he produces is top-grade. Maybe it's because of his Martial Soul, but his body hair is much thicker than the average person's. If he goes a day without shaving, he ends up looking like this, so he's known around the academy as Sausage Uncle."

After saying that, he laughed twice, trying to defuse Tang San's anger this way.

"Oscar, open your eyes and take a good look. How is Tang San as old as you said? He's clearly the same age as you!"

Oscar could only bend over and apologize. "Yes, yes, yes, my eyes were playing tricks on me. After all, everyone calls me Sausage Uncle, ahaha..."

Objectively speaking, Tang San had been the one to call Oscar an uncle first. Tang San was the one in the wrong, and Oscar had merely retorted.

But there was no helping it. This was a world where strength reigned supreme, where everything was decided by fighting ability. Oscar was a food-type Soul Master with no offensive power whatsoever. He might be useful in team battles, but in everyday life, he was looked down on, his status only slightly higher than that of a villager.

You might say he was the continent's only food-type Soul Master with Innate Full Soul Power, but so what? Which student here was not a genius?

You might say he could go to Flender if he was bullied, but one of Flender's teaching principles was—

Those who dared not cause trouble were mediocre.

Unless blood was actually spilled, Flender's response was always more or less the same:

You were bullied by your classmates, so why come to me?

Everything was based on strength, and Oscar had no strength.

Tang San's face darkened with rage. He violently shook off Lu Shi's hand, turned, and left.

Seeing this, Dai Mubai breathed a sigh of relief. He shot Oscar a frowning glance before leaving as well.

Oscar could only keep smiling. No matter how aggrieved he felt inside, he could not show it. Who told him to be a food-type Soul Master?

He could only grit his teeth inwardly and clench his fists.

Lu Shi patted his shoulder and comforted him.

Warmth filled Oscar's heart. He nearly cried, and immediately developed a favorable impression of Lu Shi.

Once the farce ended, they continued toward the fourth test.

Ning Rongrong recalled what Lu Shi had said earlier. Curious, she moved closer and asked, "Why did you say we were all classmates just now? Had you met him before?"

The others heard that and realized it too. Right, how had Lu Shi known?

They all looked toward him.

Lu Shi smiled. "The teacher at the first test already said this was an academy and that outsiders were not allowed in. That meant Oscar had to be someone from the academy."

"I noticed that every large sausage he sold was exactly identical, and so was every small sausage. No matter how skilled someone was, it would be impossible to make them completely identical.

"The only possibility was that he was a food-type Soul Master, and those sausages had all been created by his Soul Skill.

"Finally, although Oscar was covered in stubble, his skin was good and his voice sounded young. So I concluded that he was probably a student here too."

Disbelief filled Ning Rongrong's beautiful eyes as she stared at Lu Shi. "Just... just from that...?"

That was all?

Even she, someone who had studied distraction techniques and trained her observation skills since childhood, could not have analyzed so much in such a short time!

Intense curiosity immediately rose in her heart.

Even in the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, she had never seen a Soul Master as extraordinary as Lu Shi.

His powers of observation, talent, and strength were all among the very best.

The others were equally astonished.

When they arrived at the site of the fourth test,

Dai Mubai explained, "The third test examines how well applicants can apply their own Martial Souls. Soul Power and potential for development are not enough. They must also possess control over their own Martial Souls. If their control has not reached a certain level, it proves that the Soul Master himself is not diligent enough. We don't accept students like that either."

"Of course, all of you have already proven yourselves."

"The fourth test is a practical combat assessment." Dai Mubai crossed his arms, a wicked curve lifting at the corner of his mouth. "Some applicants may meet all the previous requirements, but they might have grown up pampered from childhood. We don't want people spoiled like that either!"

Those with low Soul Power were rejected. Those with high Soul Power but low Martial Soul potential were rejected. Those with high potential but who had taken the wrong path were rejected. Those who had never suffered were rejected...

Taken separately, none of these conditions seemed problematic. But if they were placed alongside Yu Xiaogang's famous saying—

There are no useless Martial Souls, only useless Soul Masters—

They became rather ironic.

Yu Xiaogang's words centered on the idea that Martial Souls had no inherent superiority or inferiority, and that a Soul Master's achievements depended on later effort and methods of development. Yet even his longtime friends did not believe him.

Even he himself, while loudly proclaiming that Martial Souls had no superiority or inferiority, admitted that his own Martial Soul was flawed.

"We're here."

Dai Mubai stopped. Before them was a patch of grass roughly two hundred square meters in size, considerably smaller than the previous field. A tremendously built burly man sat dozing in a chair. He appeared to be in his fifties.

He had short black hair, bronze skin, and forearms thicker than their thighs. His muscular contours looked as distinct as though they had been carefully carved by an artisan, while his overall proportions appeared exceptionally balanced.

"Teacher Zhao, I've brought people for the fourth test."

Zhao Wuji opened his bleary eyes as if startled. "Oh? There are actually five this year!"

In previous years, not to mention five, even one was rarely seen.

"Good, good, good. All five are above level twenty-five. Not bad!"

His voice boomed like a great bell.