No trash Martial Souls, only trash Soul Masters-damn, insulting yourself twice in one sentence?

Once an idea struck him, Yu Xiaogang said nothing more. He tossed Tang San out of his arms like a battered burlap sack, dusted off his backside, and stood up, clasping his hands behind his back and raising his chin slightly.

He cleared his throat, forced an unfathomable, otherworldly master's expression onto his face, and said with solemn earnestness:

"Boy, I know my level isn't particularly high, but do you understand just what sort of existence stands before you?"

Watching this, Lin Chuan's mouth twitched. He nearly failed to hold back a laugh.

He truly couldn't understand where Yu Xiaogang, who currently reeked of sour stench from head to toe, found the confidence to strike a pose that looked down upon the entire world.

This wasn't merely comical anymore. It was downright assaulting his eyes.

But Lin Chuan wasn't in a hurry to expose him.

After all, life was already so bitter. Now that he'd finally run into someone who could provide a laugh, why not enjoy it?

He wanted to see what else Yu Xiaogang could pull out of his bag of tricks.

So Lin Chuan forcibly suppressed his disgust, cooperatively put on just the right hint of "confusion," and played along:

"Oh? Really? Then tell me, just who exactly are you?"

The moment those words left his mouth, Yu Xiaogang was positively delighted. That's exactly what I was waiting for.

He immediately cleared his throat again, forced himself into the manner of an otherworldly master, and asked with affected profundity:

"Since you have Innate Full Soul Power, have you heard of the Ten Core Competencies of Martial Soul that have caused such a stir outside?"

The moment Lin Chuan heard that, he understood perfectly.

This routine is like an old granny climbing stairs-you can't help but give it your respect.

He just wants to get me under his thumb. Once I look confused or astonished, he'll jump in with that profound expression and say, 'These divine theories came from none other than myself.'

Feeling awestruck?

Then hurry up, kowtow, and become my disciple.

There wasn't even any need to guess. This was what Yu Xiaogang had practiced most in his life. Hadn't Tang San in the original story been hoodwinked into a cripple by him, step by step, in precisely this way?

Besides, you want me to take you as my master?

I'm a key cutter.

Are you fit for it?

Still, Lin Chuan was in no hurry to expose Yu Xiaogang's little tricks just yet.

Face-slapping required the right timing. Let Yu Xiaogang inflate his boasts to their fullest first, then grind those so-called "Ten Core Competencies" underfoot one by one. Now that would be satisfying.

At that thought, Lin Chuan immediately put on an expression of someone who "had never seen the world," nodding like a chicken pecking grain as he said with a touch of surprise:

"The Ten Core Competencies of Martial Soul? Of course I've heard of them. What, don't tell me... you came up with that stuff?"

The moment those words came out, Yu Xiaogang nearly lost control of the corners of his mouth as they desperately tried to curl upward.

But he was an old hand at swindling, after all. He forcibly took a deep breath and used his superb self-control to ruthlessly press that rippling excitement back down.

There was no helping it. Out in the world, you gave yourself your own persona.

For this round of posturing, he had to make it fresh and refined, utterly natural.

Yu Xiaogang gazed up at the ceiling at a forty-five-degree angle, his eyelids slightly lowered, and let out a long, carefully calculated sigh.

With thirty percent helplessness, thirty percent aloof pride, and forty percent world-weary disillusionment in his voice, he said wistfully:

"I originally thought I'd come to Nuoding Academy and get along with you all as an ordinary person. We'd keep a low profile and live peaceful lives."

"But what happened? Sigh... my brilliance was simply too dazzling. There was no hiding it."

"That's right. You're correct. The Ten Core Competencies of Martial Soul came from my hand. I am Grandmaster, Yu Xiaogang."

Watching Yu Xiaogang stand there with his hands behind his back, frantically striking poses as he gazed at the ceiling at a forty-five-degree angle, Lin Chuan felt his fists harden and his blood pressure shoot up. He nearly lost the urge to restrain himself from going over and giving him a great big slap.

But then he thought of how he would soon expose this fellow's core competencies as plagiarism.

And make him experience the ultimate expression of "social death" firsthand.

Tsk. The anger in his heart instantly vanished.

Just then, Wang Sheng hunched over and sidled up beside Lin Chuan, lowering his voice to complain:

"Boss, isn't this guy way too good at putting on airs? I seriously can't stand watching anymore. How about we throw a sack over his head and beat him up?"

"Even if the dean punishes us by making us clean toilets afterward, I'll shoulder it alone. All my life, I, Wang Sheng, have never been able to stand people showing off in front of me."

At those words, Lin Chuan didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He reached out, patted Wang Sheng's shoulder, and reassured him:

"Stay calm. With your boss here, he won't pull this act off. Watch how I get him under my thumb and toy him to death."

With that said, Lin Chuan fixed his gaze on Yu Xiaogang again.

First, he rubbed his chin with great seriousness and made a show of nodding.

Then he abruptly drew a deep breath, widened his eyes as though possessed by the spirit of an overactor, and exclaimed:

"What the hell? You really put together those Ten Core Competencies or whatever?"

Lin Chuan blinked, struggling to hold back his laughter, then changed tack:

"Then let me ask something else while I'm at it. That line, 'There are no trash Martial Souls, only trash Soul Masters'-did you personally make that up too?"

The moment those words came out, Yu Xiaogang instinctively sensed that something was off.

Unfortunately, his mental circuitry really was that peculiar.

Even though he felt something was wrong, his CPU simply couldn't process what exactly it was.

Since he couldn't figure it out, he might as well stop thinking.

Yu Xiaogang decisively abandoned thought, stiffened his neck, raised his chin slightly, and said calmly with the bearing of an otherworldly master:

"That's right. Those words came from my very own mouth."

"After all, every word is a pearl, containing the ultimate truths of heaven and earth. Well? Have you been won over by my talent? Ready to worship me?"

Lin Chuan couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge Yu Xiaogang's pretentious expression.

He let out a long sigh and deliberately put on a heartbroken look, though he could barely suppress the mockery at the corners of his mouth:

"I say, Grandmaster, that's a little lacking in martial virtue, isn't it? Since you yourself said, 'There are no trash Martial Souls, only trash Soul Masters,' how are you going to force an explanation for your own situation?"

"As far as I know, that Luo Sanpao of yours is a Mutated Martial Soul, right? Supposedly, its main method of attack is farting? Your Innate Soul Power was only half a level, and you're destined to be stuck at level twenty-nine for the rest of your life."

"If we go by your divine logic... then translate this for me: just what the hell does your Luo Sanpao count as? And just what standard does that level twenty-nine of yours amount to?"

"So, are you publicly putting yourself on trial for not knowing how to cultivate, or simply admitting that your Martial Soul is trash?"

At those words, Wang Sheng and the others sucked in cold breaths, their eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

Was their boss's mouth coated in poison or blessed with divine power?

He wasn't content to kill-he had to pierce the heart too!

If those words had been directed at an ordinary person, they might simply have treated them as sour grapes and laughed them off.

But this was Yu Xiaogang.

What was this called?

This was defeating magic with magic, using your own theory to smash your own dog head apart.

As the saying went, lies never broke through your defenses. The truth was the sharp blade that landed a critical hit with every cut.