Chapter 26: Chapter 24 The Poorest Contestant in History
The Prison Warden's roar was grating, but Meng Yu decided to forgive him.
Beyond the impact of hard practice, opportunity, and talent, enduring all sorts of distractions, the most fundamental reason Meng Yu had obtained Sword Intent was his unwavering focus on martial training in a special space. So, it was very normal that one surprise could delight, while two could drive one mad.
He truly wished for several more bouts of Sword Intent.
Stepping outside and reaching a secluded spot, he silently recited a spell, and then announced, "Settle."
To settle the favour he owed Old Liefire.
Killing Old Liefire was driven by the same reason as not repaying a debt.
Old Liefire thought that after the tournament, Meng Yu would surely be transferred to another prison. Since that was the case, defaulting on salary payments would simply result in a bad debt.
Meng Yu, too, felt that it was time to settle a score.
Over the past several months, he had been very good to Old Liefire, running errands and even referring to him as 'Master', investing a lot of emotion. But if he were transferred to another prison, this account would turn into a dead debt.
So, it was time to collect the debt.
Thus, Old Liefire died.
In his Divine Sense, the Nine-Petal White Lotus turned black and then condensed at the top. Unfortunately, instead of forming a grey or black Lotus Seed, it merely exploded with a bang and was over.
"Failure."
Meng Yu felt disheartened, but he could understand.
After all, how could Old Liefire possibly be someone he cherished? Even saying that the system was lenient, at least the Nine-Petal White Lotus had blackened and then fused. But... not even the entire prison would feel any emotional connection to Old Liefire.
An affection worth fifty cents.
It seemed he needed to delve deeper into prison life, make more friends.
Or perhaps, he should step outside the prison to find true friends who could touch his heart?
To meet him, fall in love with her, discard it?
...
Old Liefire's death became silent and unnoticed. The Prison Warden personally took over the follow-up, determining it an accident.
Several days later, the Flying Boat to retrieve Meng Yu arrived.
They were to escort Meng Yu to a Teleportation point, and after several teleports, bring Meng Yu to the scene of the grand tournament, a separate realm known as the Martial Arts Miniature World.
"If you hadn't been locked up, you'd be a hot commodity by now."
The staff escorting Meng Yu were amiable, telling him quite a bit of news.
After the competition entered the top ten thousand, the names of the participants were publicized. Additionally, various big shots from different circles also started following these individuals.
With a chance of nearly one in ten thousand, aside from a few lucky ones, these people were all exceptionally outstanding. Many among them would be the future Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, and even Nascent Soul cultivators.
Normally, these individuals would receive extensive media attention and corporate sponsorship; they might become local celebrities or even receive numerous deals.
Meng Yu's name had also appeared before everyone, and some live broadcasts had taken notice of him, planning to use him as a draw. However, the clause stating that he was not allowed to transfer prisons nor apply for parole within five years put off many people, believing this young man's future was not very promising.
In Immortal Sect cultivation, if you fall behind even by a step, every subsequent step will be difficult. He was in prison, where even the daily labor consumed immense energy, let alone five years!
However, his White Crane Swordsmanship was truly powerful!
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...
Six days later, when Meng Yu arrived at the competition venue.
The Immortal Sect had sent all 12,000 examinees into the arena, which was as vast as a city (in the elimination round, there are always some extremely unlucky folks, geniuses meeting geniuses, so there were also resurrection matches coupled with points, granting 2,000 more chances).
These 12,000 students represented the pride of the Immortal Sect for the year. Officially speaking, having everyone come here instead of competing at home was an act of care from the Immortal Sect. Gathering everyone together was a way to foster relationships and shield them from unnecessary distractions, to truly showcase themselves.
Of course, for the large number of Immortal Sect people, it was simply a matter of three words: start the betting! Finally, they could start betting!
It is often said that the more fair and undisturbed by external factors the competition is, the more likely it becomes the object of betting, and what else could serve as a better vessel for such a nationally beneficial betting event than the annual Immortal Sect entrance exam?
There's no helping it, it's better to guide than to block. To indulge in gambling, people from the Immortal Sect even dare to engage with illegal outside betting pools. Given the myriad gambling activities that keep emerging and are impossible to completely suppress, it might as well be an official lottery, guiding the masses to use their wealth in a reasonable way.
Of course, Moon God and Mirror Twelve were staunchly opposed at first, but later, after seeing the benefits brought by successive operations, she acquiesced. After all, the astronomical expense of spiritual energy and spirit stones for each massive simulation was undeniable, and with the dwindling spirit stone resources of the Immortal Sect, she found herself short of them and had to concede that spirit stones were indeed delightful.
First up was the equipment registration for the individual competition.
"This is your equipment?"
The staff member looked at what Meng Yu had brought with a disbelieving stare.
Since the matter involved the lottery, variables had to be controlled. You had to disclose to the public every contestant's equipment, weapons, alchemical elixirs, and protective armor and have them registered and locked down. No storage devices were permitted, nothing exceeding a certain quantity was allowed, and once the competition officially began, no changes could be made.
Without such measures, how could the fairness—ah no, the integrity of the competition—be ensured?
What if a contestant brought hundreds of puppets to the match, or like Meng Yu, only had two Red Maple Wooden Swords and suddenly switched to Green-Purple Twin Swords at the venue? That wouldn't do, fairness and integrity had to be maintained.
"Yes, that's it," Meng Yu confirmed.
His equipment was terribly simple: an ordinary set of fire-resistant, tear-resistant prison garb, two Red Leaf Wooden Swords (one as a spare to prevent destruction), and nothing else on his body, not even any other weapons, protective armor, or protection charms.
Even his shoes were just ordinary shoes.
There was no helping it; this was the cost of advertisement.
This was the oppression of a black-hearted advertiser over party B.
This was all for the sake of putting on airs.
"Are you sure? After today, your weapons will be limited to these two?" the staff member asked again, because the competition would take place in the virtual world. Once the contestants are scanned, even if you secure sponsorship the next day, you cannot use it until the end of the competition in one go.
"Yes, martial skills don't need to be registered, right?"
"No need. That involves personal foundation and privacy. As long as you're not using forbidden cultivation techniques, that's fine. Also, storage devices aren't allowed. Meng Yu, good luck."
The staff member scanned Meng Yu's equipment and surrounding scene once more, clicking her tongue in wonderment.
She was sure that Meng Yu would surely make it onto today's Spirit Web rankings.
The most impoverished contestant in history.
In six thousand years, there had never been such a destitute battle.
Even if one's family were poor, making it to the top ten thousand would immediately attract various sponsorships, one after another.
Poor young man, she even imagined Meng Yu being bullied and tormented in the prison, forced to use only these two exceedingly ordinary swords.
Prison, such a terrifying place!
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