When Chen Luo had suggested that Venti "pay" with his songs earlier, it wasn't just because he wanted to listen to them. Sure, Venti's singing was beautiful, but that wasn't the main reason.
The real reason was that Venti's songs had special effects.
Like the one he had just sung—though the buff had already worn off, the Bar had notified Chen Luo that practicing elemental control while listening to it would rapidly increase his proficiency.
"Sigh, if only I could imagine the Vision as a household item, things wouldn't be so troublesome. Maybe keeping it close for a couple more days will do the trick." Chen Luo mused silently.
The first night of running this "Midnight bar" had been incredibly fruitful—not only had he earned 40 Primogems, but he'd also successfully awakened an Anemo Vision.
He didn't know what the future held, but having power at least gave him some peace of mind.
On top of that, his friend list had finally gained its first entry:
Venti
[Gnosis](Item): 8,000 Primogems
[Elemental Body · Anemo](Constitution): 1,600 Primogems
[Mastery of Song](Skill): 500 Primogems
…
"So because the favorability increased, the items are discounted? A simple MP3 player basically saved me over 2,000 Primogems. That's insane."
Thanks to the increased favorability, everything was now 20% off. The Gnosis alone had been reduced by 2,000 Primogems—though Chen Luo had no intention of buying it anyway.
If he were to spend Primogems, he'd much rather get a Herrscher Core.
Why? Well, based on the information he'd dug up while practicing Vision control and browsing his phone, the three known Archons—Barbatos (Anemo), Morax (Geo), and the Raiden Shogun (Electro)—all treated their Gnosis like they were disposable.
Take Barbatos, for example. No way was he actually weak—how else would he have become one of the original Seven? The man had literally blown an entire archipelago into the ocean. Chen Luo strongly suspected that losing his Gnosis had been intentional.
Morax seemed even less attached to his—he traded it away like a business deal.
And the Raiden Shogun? She handed hers off to her familiar without a second thought, not even bothering to use it herself.
After seeing how these three treated their Gnosis, Chen Luo was seriously questioning whether the thing was even worth it.
After spending two whole hours in the Bar, Chen Luo was finally starting to get bored.
At this point, I'd rather be out there with the Herrscher of Sentience, enacting justice.
His Vision training had progressed steadily under Barbatos' singing. By now, Chen Luo could gather wind blades in his palm—though they occasionally nicked his fingers. Minor mishaps aside, he was making good progress.
The rapidly spinning wind blade in his hand—almost like a Rasengan—could carve deep gashes into the wooden chairs, proving just how dangerous a Vision could be.
The only reason his hands weren't shredded to pieces was thanks to the Bar's unique rules.
As a 5-star talent extension, the Midnight bar had a strict no-violence policy—meaning even Chen Luo couldn't harm himself. That was the only reason he could practice such reckless, borderline-self-mutilating techniques.
Now, his efforts were paying off—he could finally wield wind blades without injuring himself.
Still, either due to his low power level or lack of mastery, his wind blades had terrible range. The farther they traveled, the weaker they became.
3 meters away: Could chop through a wooden chair leg (barely).
5 meters away: Only cut halfway.
10 meters away: Just barely scratched the surface.
Say what you will, but a Vision truly was a gift from the gods, allowing an ordinary person to wield supernatural power in no time.
Best of all, Chen Luo didn't even have to worry about losing his vision—it still worked even when stashed in his inventory.
This meant he could pass himself off as someone with supernatural powers if needed.
Why would he want to do that? It's better to be prepared.
Chen Luo never assumed he was uniquely special. If he could awaken a talent in this world, others probably could too. While his ability might be the most unusual, it wasn't necessarily the strongest—at least, not in the early stages.
Though running away was definitely his strongest suit.
A tree that stands out in the forest will be blown by the wind. If someone catches his flaw, Chen Luo can disguise himself as a wind superpower, which can reduce the other party's vigilance.
It was like how an emperor might tolerate a mid-ranking general living comfortably but would never allow a famous general to grow too powerful.
In the foreseeable future, Chen Luo would likely be hopping between worlds to complete commissions. All he wanted was to come home and relax when it was all over.
Of course, if someone provoke him, he wouldn't mind teaching them a lesson.
Venti still had his Gnosis, after all. Worst-case scenario, Chen Luo could just beg him to turn the offender into a vegetable with a gust of wind.
He knew full well that the commission system would inevitably lead to conflicts—he just wasn't ready yet.
Every talent had its strengths, and Chen Luo's was clearly weak early-game, rapid growth, and overpowered late-game.
That said, he figured most of his future trouble would happen in other worlds. If things got bad, he could always retreat to his own.
I'm just a student—how much trouble could I possibly get into? Worst case, I can refuse certain commissions.
Of course, that was just hypothetical. Maybe he really was the only one with supernatural powers in this world.
After two hours of running a bar, he'd earned 40 Primogems and a Vision.
Definitely a profit—but not as big as he'd hoped.
Which left him feeling… confused.
So, in his confusion, he left the bar and returned to the second-floor balcony.
Venti had shown up almost immediately after opening, stayed for half an hour, and then left. The rest of the time had been spent training.
Chen Luo didn't fully understand how Visions worked, but right now, he was exhausted—both physically and mentally.
Does using a Vision drain both physical and mental energy?
Instead of taking the stairs, Chen Luo stepped off the balcony and gently floated down to the first floor, as if under some kind of slow-fall spell.
This was the fruit of his hour-and-a-half of training—while he was far from mastering it, he could at least use it in daily life now.
Collapsing onto the couch, Chen Luo let his fatigue take over. His eyelids grew heavy, and before he knew it, he had drifted off to sleep.