Han Jue took one step toward the servant, and the poor guy didn't just flinch he gagged.
The servant's face went from pale to a sickly shade of green, his hand flying up to cover his nose as he stumbled back toward the hallway. It was like Han Jue had just stepped out of a sewer instead of a meditation chamber.
"Young Master... please... the Great Elder is waiting, but..." The servant's eyes were watering. He was trying his best to endure the biological weapon that was Han Jue's presence, but his survival instincts were winning.
"What the—" Han Jue looked down at his hands.
His expensive silk robes weren't white anymore. They were covered in a thick, oily black sludge that smelled like a mix of rotten eggs and wet gym socks. It was oozing out of his pores, staining the fabric.
"What is this... black spots? My skin is leaking?"
[System: Impurities expelled. The first stage of Skin Tempering requires the 'Mortal Filth' to be pushed out of the marrow. Your foundation is stabilizing.]
"Stabilizing? I smell like a dead whale's armpit," Han Jue muttered. He shifted his weight, and a new sensation hit him. His pants were sticking to him in places they definitely shouldn't. "And my balls... fuck, my balls are so sweaty they're practically drowning. Is this part of the 'Path to Godhood' too? Swamp crotch?"
[System: Physical discomfort is a symptom of rapid refinement. Recommend immediate cleansing.]
Han Jue kicked the gagging servant out and slammed the door. He caught his breath, his chest burning from the three-day internal grind. He stumbled toward the large washbasin in the corner and looked down into the water's reflection.
He froze.
The kid in the water had long, messy white hair that looked like spun silver, clinging to a face with sharp, arrogant features. Even covered in black, oily filth and smelling like a sewer, the kid was a knockout.
"Damn..." Han Jue wiped a smear of black gunk off his cheek, a smirk tugging at his lips. 'Even if I'm from a trash-tier villain clan, I'm still fucking handsome! Hehe, if I survive this, I could probably live off my face alone.'
But the smirk vanished as he realized the black spots were 'Mortal Filth' being pushed out of his pores. "And my balls... fuck, my balls are so sweaty they're practically drowning."
He stripped off the ruined silk and scrubbed himself raw. After five minutes of frantic washing, he threw on some simple black robes—nothing too flashy. He needed to be able to move. He strapped a basic iron dagger to his belt, feeling the cold weight against his thigh.
As Han Jue stepped into the courtyard, the air was thick with the sound of a crackling whip and his brother's high-pitched, annoying laughter.
"Beg for it, stable-rat! Give me back the pendant and maybe I'll only take one leg!" Han Ming, Han Jue's older brother, was posturing like a god in front of a crowd of lackeys.
Kneeling in the dirt was Ye Fan. He was covered in blood, but his eyes... they were cold. Terrifyingly cold.
Han Jue stopped in his tracks. He didn't need the System to tell him what he was seeing. 'Wait... hold on. Ye Fan is fucking strong as shit! That's not the posture of a dying servant. That's a tiger waiting to pounce. If my brother hits him one more time, this whole clan is getting erased tonight!'
Han Jue made a split-second decision. He didn't want to die for a family of idiots.
"Hey! Han Ming!" Han Jue shouted, walking forward with his hands in his pockets.
"Brother!" Han Ming grinned. "Come, watch me break this thief's spirit!"
"Nah," Han Jue shrugged, looking at Ye Fan with a bored expression. "He's boring. Actually, Ye Fan, right? You want to break my brother's legs? Go ahead. I don't really care. I hope you do it, honestly. He's been annoying me all morning."
The courtyard went dead silent. Han Ming's jaw dropped. Ye Fan looked up, his murderous gaze flickering with genuine confusion. "What...?"
'Now!' Han Jue thought.
Before Ye Fan could process the weirdness, Han Jue lunged. He didn't use a fancy cultivation technique—he used the dirty, street-fighting instincts of a bank robber. He jammed his palm into Ye Fan's chest, pushing him back to create distance, then followed up with a brutal kick aimed at the Hero's knee.
Ye Fan reacted like lightning. He caught Han Jue's foot, twisted, and sent a palm strike toward Han Jue's ribs.
CRACK.
The sound of Han Jue's Skin Tempering foundation meeting Ye Fan's raw fury echoed through the yard. Han Jue spiraled back, his feet skidding in the dirt.
"Oh, you want to dance?!" Han Jue hissed. He dived low, dodging a roundhouse kick that whistled over his head, then drove his elbow into Ye Fan's solar plexus. Ye Fan didn't even flinch. He grabbed Han Jue's collar and slammed him into a stone pillar.
'Fuck! This kid is a monster!'
Ye Fan lunged again, his fist glowing with a faint, vengeful light. Han Jue twisted mid-air, using his dagger's sheath to parry the blow, the vibration numbing his entire arm. They traded blows—blur against blur—kicks shattering the wooden training dummies nearby. Han Jue was using every bit of his focus just to stay alive.
But he was losing. Fast.
Han Jue saw Ye Fan's eyes turn red. The Protagonist was entering his "Berzerker" mode.
"Enough!" Han Jue gasped, coughing up a bit of blood. He realized he had pushed the 'Villain' act far enough to make it look real. Now came the insurance.
He scrambled back, putting on his best "terrified young master" face, and let out a blood-curdling shriek toward the main hall.
"FATHER!!! HELP ME PLS! HE'S TRYING TO KILL ME! DAD, SAVE ME!!!"
'Come on, you greedy old bastard, come out here and deal with this Hero before he kills us both!'