The enormous bounty shook the entire Northern Frontier Base City, but Dongguan, the man who had posted it, found himself with time on his hands instead.
Outside, sand and dust billowed through the air, but conditions inside the base city were much better.
Tree planting and various construction techniques had stabilized the soil and sand near the base city.
Storms still carried yellow sand in from farther away, but it hardly affected everyday life. It merely "colored" the base city over time.
Inside one of the base city's Limitless Martial Arts Halls, Dongguan sat on the lawn, watching a boy of sixteen or seventeen practice basic spear techniques.
When the boy grew tired of training, he sat down as well.
"Who are you? How come I've never seen you before?" The boy had also noticed Dongguan watching him.
After all, Dongguan had made no attempt to hide it.
"Me?" Dongguan considered for a moment. "I only came here recently. I wasn't around here before."
"Are you a martial artist, big brother?" the boy asked.
Although Dongguan had been a martial artist for over thirty years, he still looked like a young man. Calling him big brother was hardly inappropriate.
"What makes you say that?"
"Look, all the students around us are training hard. Only martial artists come to the Limitless Martial Arts Hall to relax," the boy replied.
That did seem to be the case.
Many students came from families that could not afford a dedicated training room, so they had to train at the martial arts hall.
Martial artists, on the other hand, were guaranteed a villa when they joined an organization, and every villa came equipped with a training room.
Normally, martial artists could train at home. If they came to the hall, it was usually to take care of some business or simply to socialize, which was why they appeared to have nothing to do.
"That's right. I'm a martial artist," Dongguan admitted.
He was a martial artist, and had been one for over thirty years.
"What's life as a martial artist really like? Could you tell me about it?" A yearning look crossed the boy's face.
"Life as a martial artist..." Dongguan considered. "There are independent martial artists and those who join an organization. Those who join an organization usually take on specific duties, which vary depending on the organization and the position. I'll tell you about independent martial artists, since that's what I am."
The boy shifted his posture and listened intently.
Quite a few of the other students training nearby were drawn to the conversation as well.
Seeing the students gathered together instead of practicing, an instructor walked over, ready to scold them, only to discover Dongguan talking with a boy.
The instructors had once been martial artists too. Many had retired due to injuries and returned to work as instructors.
Although they no longer ventured into the wilderness, their sources of information remained intact.
He recognized Dongguan and left them alone.
"Independent martial artists generally form teams to hunt monsters, though some work alone. If you're a beginner, there's one thing you must remember when fighting monsters: don't be afraid. Once you lose your nerve, your combat strength drops, and even monsters you could have beaten become impossible to defeat..."
"Our advantage over monsters is our intelligence. Information on many common monsters is posted on the Warrior Forum. Read up before heading into the Wilderness Zone. Identifying their weaknesses will save you a lot of effort. There's also information about which parts of a monster are valuable. Monster materials are how independent martial artists earn their living..."
"You can consult that information, but don't trust it blindly. You might run into a mutant. Just as people differ from one another, monsters of the same species can have different fighting styles. Once, I ran into a group of apes and thought they were Great Strength Demon Apes, only to find out they were a variant..."
Dongguan was unusually talkative this time.
As he talked, the sky gradually darkened. Several hours had passed.
Some of the students who had been listening had left, but the boy was still there.
"Do you want to become a martial artist?" Dongguan asked before they parted.
"Yes," the boy replied.
In this era, every boy dreamed of becoming a martial artist, preferably one as powerful as Hong.
"Then why haven't you? Unless I'm mistaken, your physical fitness has already reached the Quasi-Martial Artist standard."
"I..." The boy lowered his head.
The kind man before him had to be a powerful martial artist. He could judge the boy's physical fitness just by watching him practice with a spear, whereas the boy himself had needed a test to be sure.
As for his reason, he felt a little ashamed.
"Because I don't want to make my mother sad," the boy finally answered.
It was a dilemma with no easy solution. Becoming a martial artist inevitably meant risking death, but without martial artists stepping forward one after another, what could be done about the monsters?
Could they rely entirely on laser cannons? That would consume far too many resources.
When monsters hid in cities, they could hardly level those cities entirely. Humanity had built a great many cities before the Great Nirvana.
It was precisely to address this dilemma that martial artists enjoyed such high social standing.
Their status was high not merely because they were strong, but also because monsters existed.
"Caring about your parents is nothing to be ashamed of," Dongguan gently reassured him.
"Mm." The boy nodded, looking rather shy.
"However," Dongguan continued, changing tack, "whether you become a martial artist is your own choice. Ultimately, you're the one who has to walk the road ahead. Even your parents have no right to decide your life for you."
The boy raised his head.
"So you think I should become a martial artist?"
"Only you can decide that. Your mother can't decide your life, and neither can I. You've probably heard more than enough at school about fighting monsters and taking responsibility, so I won't repeat it. All I can tell you is that martial artists rule this world. If you want control over your own destiny, become a martial artist."
"Is that really true?" The boy looked doubtful.
"Money and power-is that what you mean?" Dongguan rose to his feet and fixed him with a piercing gaze. "Before the Great Nirvana, that was indeed how things worked. But afterward, everything changed. Since the Great Nirvana wasn't that long ago, the old framework still remains. In the future, you'll eventually discover that money and power are merely byproducts of strength."
Dongguan clenched his fist.
"To command strength is to command everything-to command your destiny."
Those words were not just for the boy before him. They were also for Dongguan himself.
"Only by becoming a martial artist can you use your strength to take control of your destiny."
Dimly, Dongguan seemed to glimpse a vast, densely woven net stretching throughout heaven and earth, connected to himself, to the boy before him, to the horizon, and to places far away.
But it vanished in an instant.
Dongguan's aura spilled out involuntarily, overwhelming the boy and everyone else in the martial arts hall.
The vertical eye between his brows also opened of its own accord, though fortunately his forehead protector concealed it.
On one of the hall's upper floors, Zheng Yuqiao, an intermediate War God of the Northern Frontier Base City's Limitless Martial Arts Hall, felt his fingers tremble. His teacup shook, spilling tea.
"He truly deserves the title of Invincible War God! And he's a Psychic, too." Setting down his cup, he sighed in admiration.
With his War God Level strength, he should not have been affected so badly, but Dongguan's Spiritual Force was vastly stronger than his.
Martial artists possessed Spiritual Force as well. Its quality was no worse than that of Psychics at the same level, but they lacked the quantity needed to project it outward.
For martial artists—at least those below the Planetary Grade—an aura was merely an aura. A Psychic's aura, however, carried Spiritual Force that could affect reality.
Noticing the boy trembling all over, Dongguan hurriedly reined in his aura.
Upon closer inspection, he saw a faint vertical fissure between the boy's brows.
Just as I thought, Dongguan mused. It resembled his own features.
"Sorry." His apology was not just for the boy, but for everyone else in the hall as well. The aura he had inadvertently released had disturbed many people's training.
Everyone else promptly assured him that it was fine.
Someone who could release such an aura had to be a powerful figure. How could they blame him?
Looking back at the boy, Dongguan had initially thought he was stunned with fear. In fact, once the boy recovered, his eyes were filled with intense yearning.
"So strong."
"Big brother, you're right. Only by becoming a martial artist can I take control of my own destiny. Tomorrow, I'll take the Quasi-Martial Artist test."
"Then you'd better hurry." Dongguan glanced at his Communication Watch. "There isn't much time left before the next Martial Artist Combat Assessment."
The watch displayed January 18, 2057. The Martial Artist Combat Assessment was held only twice a year, on February 1 and August 1-once every six months.
"I should head home."
The boy stood up and looked at the sky.
"Big brother, I really enjoyed talking with you. Could you tell me your name?"
Despite having experienced Dongguan's aura, the boy showed no fear.
Looking at the vertical mark on the boy's forehead, so similar to his own, Dongguan smiled. "My name's Dongguan. Have you heard of me?"
The boy shook his head blankly.
Dongguan was famous among martial artists, but ordinary people rarely heard his name.
"No, but I'll remember it." The boy waved and headed toward the entrance of the Limitless Martial Arts Hall. "Oh, and my name's Zhang Gui. Goodbye."
"Goodbye." Dongguan waved farewell.
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