The sun beat down on the black asphalt of the winding driveway.
Fatty Zhang, "Mr. Zhang", was arguing with a cement truck driver who was refusing to back his rig up the steep incline near the West Wing.
"I don't care if your clutch is slipping!" Fatty yelled, waving his arms. "The boss wants the retaining wall there! Figure it out!"
Lin Hao watched from the shadowed balcony of the manor. Fatty was doing a good job. He was loud, distracting, and perfectly played the role of the stressed middleman.
But he was also a Mortal.
He had no Iron Skin. He had no cultivation. If a Level 2 BSA agent, or worse, a Level 3 retainer from a Guardian Family, decided to bypass the "Phantom Fear" array and interrogate the property manager, Fatty would snap like a dry twig.
Lin Hao frowned. He couldn't cultivate 24/7 if he had to babysit his front man.
He needed a guard. A lethal, sleepless, loyal guard that wouldn't ask for a paycheck and couldn't be bribed.
He turned and walked back into the manor. He grabbed his car keys.
[City U Animal Shelter]
The shelter was a cacophony of barking, yipping, and the sad, wet smell of bleach and desperation.
Lin Hao walked down the aisle of cages. He wasn't looking for a pet. He was looking for raw material.
He ignored the small dogs yapping for attention. He ignored the aggressive pit bulls throwing themselves against the chain-link.
He stopped at cage #402.
Inside, a large, black-and-tan German Shepherd sat perfectly still. It was thin, its ribs showing through its coat, but its eyes were calm. Intelligent. It wasn't barking. It was watching him, tracking his movement with a steady, assessing gaze.
"That's 'Sarge'," a volunteer said, walking up with a leash. "Police washout. Too independent. Doesn't like to bark on command. We're... putting him down tomorrow."
"I'll take him," Lin Hao said.
[Skyview Manor - The West Wing Courtyard]
An hour later, the dog was sitting on the black granite of Lin Hao's private courtyard. It had eaten three steaks in about ten seconds. Now, it was watching Lin Hao, its head cocked.
It sensed something. Animals always did. It sensed the [Level 7] power humming under Lin Hao's skin. It knew this wasn't a normal human.
"You're too thin, Sarge," Lin Hao said softly. "And you're too weak to guard this mountain."
He placed his hand on the dog's head. The fur was coarse and dry.
"System. $Upgrade Others$."
"Target: Canine."
[Target Acquired: German Shepherd (Male). Status: Uninitiated.] [Talent: Unknown (Beast Class)]
Lin Hao didn't care about its talent. He cared about its strength.
[Target: Dog | Cultivation: Uninitiated] -> [Upgrade: Level 1: Novice (Iron Skin)]?
The cost for upgrading a non-blood-related living being was standard: 100x the base cost.
[Cost: 1,000 UP]
"Confirm."
[Deducting 1,000 UP. 36,860 UP Remaining.]
The dog stiffened. A low whine escaped its throat. But it didn't run. It trusted the hand on its head.
A wave of heat passed through the animal. Its dry, coarse fur suddenly thickened. It became glossy, dense, and hard, taking on the texture of a wire brush. The skin underneath tightened, becoming as tough as cured leather.
The dog shook itself, the sound of its new coat rustling like dry leaves. It looked bigger. Denser.
"Not enough," Lin Hao muttered. "Level 1 is just a tough pet. I need a weapon."
[Target: Dog | Cultivation: Level 1] -> [Upgrade: Level 2: Adept (Muscle Weaving)]?
[Cost: 1,000 UP]
"Confirm."
[Deducting 1,000 UP. 35,860 UP Remaining.]
This time, the change was dramatic.
CRACK.
The dog's frame expanded. Its shoulders broadened, the muscles bunching and writhing under the new, iron-hard fur. It grew two inches in height. Its jaws widened, the teeth lengthening just enough to look... wrong. Dangerous.
But the biggest change was in the eyes.
The brown, canine irises swirled with a faint, blue mist. The "dumb" animal look vanished. It was replaced by a sharp, crystal-clear, frighteningly human intelligence.
The dog, no, the Spirit Beast, let out a deep, chest-rumbling breath.
It stood up. It was now a 120-pound wolf-killer.
It looked at Lin Hao. It didn't wag its tail. It didn't lick his hand.
It lowered its front legs, bowing its massive head until its snout touched the granite floor. A gesture of absolute, cognizant submission to its Alpha.
"Good boy," Lin Hao said, scratching the beast behind its iron-hard ears. "Your name is Blackie."
He pointed toward the front of the house, where Fatty Zhang was arguing.
"Go watch him. If anyone tries to hurt him... eat them."
Blackie gave a low, affirmative "woof," turned, and trotted silently away, his claws clicking on the stone like bullets.
Lin Hao checked his balance. [Upgrade Points (UP): 35,860].
The base was secure. His sister was safe.
Now, he could finally be selfish.