A Talent for Meditation?

In terms of base attributes alone, the level-six Little Drill Wind was already comparable to a fully maxed-out SS-rank card.

With Lion Camel Ridge Glory's 150% bonus within its range factored in, his actual combat stats were comparable to an SSS-rank base stat panel.

More importantly, the command flag brought him far more than attributes.

Su Mu could feel that Little Drill Wind's "concept" had become a little more complete.

His identity as a "mountain patroller" was no longer just a word in his name. It had become a tangible symbol on the command flag he carried at his waist.

Only with this flag did Little Drill Wind truly look like the Little Drill Wind who patrolled Lion Camel Ridge.

Next came meditation.

Su Mu sat cross-legged and closed his eyes, sinking his consciousness into the depths of his Soul Space.

Following the method his older female cousin had taught him, he tried to "touch" his Soul Power.

Soul Power was an energy that drifted through the Soul Space, scattered in every corner like tiny points of light. For a newly awakened Dungeon Master, these points of light were extremely sparse. They often had to sense them again and again in complete quiet before they could barely catch a trace.

His cousin had told him that sensing Soul Power on the first attempt at meditation was already a sign of considerable talent. Recovering five points was excellent. Recovering more than ten points was the mark of a genius.

But less than three minutes after closing his eyes, Su Mu sensed that something was off.

Those drifting points of Soul Power light... were far too clear.

They were so clear that he didn't need to "catch" them at all. Like stars filling the sky, they hung there in plain sight. He didn't even need to concentrate; a casual "glance" revealed a whole swath of them.

He instinctively tried to draw those points of light into his Soul Space.

Boom.

A warm current of energy surged in.

[Soul Power +50]

Su Mu's eyes snapped open.

Fifty points?

He thought he had sensed it wrong, so he closed his eyes and tried again.

[Soul Power +50]

A third time.

[Soul Power +50]

Su Mu stopped.

It wasn't that he didn't want to continue, but that he felt he could keep going.

But his Soul Power had now reached 180 points, almost at its limit of 210.

He couldn't waste it.

Su Mu closed his eyes and sank into his Soul Space again.

One hundred and eighty points.

For him, that was a very generous amount.

Every previous construction had been like dancing on the edge of a blade, counting every point he spent for fear that one wrong step would undo all his work. Now, at last, he had enough to spare for something he had long wanted to do... sculpt Little Drill Wind's face.

Su Mu's consciousness passed through the barrier of the Dungeon Space and descended above Lion Camel Ridge.

A chill wind swept between the mountain ridges, stirring up a little dust and sand.

Little Drill Wind was still leaning against the stone stele at the mountain pass. His bluish-black skin gleamed coldly in the dim daylight, and the "Mountain Patrol Command Flag" at his waist fluttered without wind, the dark red character "Drill" on its surface appearing and disappearing.

He sensed Su Mu's presence and lifted his eyelids, his pointed mouth stretching into a slight grin. He seemed to have grown accustomed to being "observed" like this.

Su Mu didn't rush to begin.

He closed his eyes and recalled the descriptions of Little Drill Wind in the original Journey to the West.

Little Drill Wind, who patrolled Lion Camel Ridge, was the most inconspicuous lesser yaoguai under the Azure Lion's command.

The original devoted very little attention to him, and never even directly described his appearance.

But the films and television shows, the illustrated storybooks, and the Journey to the West derivative works Su Mu had seen had given the image of "Little Drill Wind" a very specific outline in his memory.

He was a lean, wiry lesser yaoguai, short but exceptionally agile.

He had a pointed mouth and monkey-like cheeks, with no flesh on either side of his face. His eyes were small but full of life, showing the alertness and craftiness honed by years of patrolling the mountain and keeping watch.

He wore an old, dark-cyan battle skirt, a short saber at his waist and a worn little kerchief on his head. He always carried a copper gong in his hand.

But the Little Drill Wind before him, though already raised to S-rank through concept anchoring, still had the Mountain-Patrolling Lesser Yaoguai's original appearance as his foundation.

Bluish-gray skin, a crude short jacket, a short saber and straw sandals—the whole yaoguai looked rough, like an unpolished stone.

"First, let's change the face," Su Mu murmured to himself.

He raised a hand, and Soul Power streamed from his fingertips like thin ribbons of light, drifting toward Little Drill Wind's body.

The first stroke changed Little Drill Wind's skin color.

Bluish-gray was too earthy, too much like the color of a "rank-and-file grunt."

At a thought from Su Mu, Soul Power seeped into his skin, dyeing the bluish-gray bluish-black inch by inch.

Once the color darkened, the yaoguai's whole bearing changed, turning him from a mountain wilds lesser yaoguai into a seasoned mountain patroller with some confidence behind him.

[Soul Power -5]

The second stroke was his face shape.

Little Drill Wind's face could already be described as pointed and monkey-cheeked, but the contours of his bones weren't sharp enough.

Using Soul Power, Su Mu adjusted his cheekbones, jaw and nose bridge bit by bit, sculpting his whole face toward a lean, formidable look. His cheekbones widened slightly, his chin tightened, and the tip of his nose lengthened a little. His cheeks sank, revealing the thin outlines of his jaw muscles.

With those changes, the character of his entire face transformed.

He no longer looked as lost and bewildered as before, but like an old yaoguai who had truly made his way through demon-haunted mountains and treacherous waters.

[Soul Power -10]

The third stroke was his eyes.

This was the most crucial part.

Su Mu focused his attention on Little Drill Wind's eyes.

What he needed wasn't a simple, one-dimensional expression of "ferocity" or "cunning," but a complex blend of cowardice, quick-wittedness and a desperate fear of death.

Little Drill Wind had never been one of those yaoguai kings notorious for their ferocity. He was just a minor character.

But precisely because he was a minor character, he was all the better at reading people's expressions, trimming his sails to the wind, and carefully staying alive among those truly terrifying beings.

His eyes were narrow and long, set a little closer together, with his pupils slightly contracted, as though he were constantly watching for movement around him. His eyelids were a little puffy, carrying a hint of weariness from years of patrolling the mountain without a good night's sleep.

[Soul Power -20]

Su Mu looked at the result before him, then checked his Soul Power. After the earlier expenditures, he had over 140 points left.

It still wasn't enough.

He continued sculpting.

He lengthened the neck slightly, making the yaoguai look more nimble.

He tightened the shoulders and angled the collarbones slightly forward. Combined with his short frame, it made him look ready to bolt at any moment, yet just as ready to charge into a crowd of enemies.

His arms were a little longer than before, his fingers tapered and his knuckles prominent. A single glance showed they had been honed by years of gripping a saber.

[Soul Power -15]

The more he sculpted, the more absorbed he became.

The structure of Little Drill Wind's body gradually grew clear in his mind. He painstakingly considered the line of every muscle and the angles of every bone: where to tighten, where to loosen, where to let a yaoguai's wildness show, and where to add a touch of a "small fry's" shifty air.

Time ticked by, second by second.

Su Mu didn't know how long he spent. He only felt his Soul Power slipping away like fine sand through an hourglass, handful after handful.

By the time he finished shaping Little Drill Wind's legs, stance and waist, he had less than twenty points of Soul Power left.

He had spent 190 points in total.

Su Mu let out a long breath, his consciousness leaning back slightly.

The yaoguai before him looked like an entirely different creature from the one he had been.

He stood at the mountain pass, lean and wiry like a taut bowstring. Faint scale patterns showed on his bluish-black skin, and the small eyes in his pointed face shone with alertness.

His old battle skirt hung loosely from his waist. The short saber was tucked at an angle against his hip, its edge facing down, just the right distance for him to draw. The command flag was planted behind his back, its surface fluttering without wind.

He was still Little Drill Wind, but every detail from head to toe gave off an unmistakable "demonic aura."

This was what the Mountain-Patrolling Lesser Yaoguai in Su Mu's memory ought to look like.