Beggar Cultivation System

The Callum Family estate is situated northwest of Klown City. A multi-storied building, its stones are carefully polished, and the exterior is adorned with a lush garden, bathed in an ethereal glow from the sunlight. The mansion is expansive, with maids bustling about, tending to their duties.

Great luxury exuded from the structure, showcasing the history and might of the Callum Family.

At the very top was the Family Head's room.

A forty-five-year-old man sat behind a bronze-colored table, a deep frown on his face. The chair he occupied matched the table's style, and behind him hung a portrait of himself on the wall. He wore expensive clothing, adorned in gold and silver.
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Aaron Callum, Head of the Callum Family, narrowed his eyes at the individuals in the room.

"Still no one can find the culprit behind my son's death?" he asked, his tone icy cold.

The people before him lowered their heads, one of them shaking his head.

"The culprit disappeared," one of them responded. "We've already searched the entire city. Even with the city's help, we couldn't find the killer."

"Useless!" Aaron stood up and hurled the vase on the table to the floor. It shattered into shards, spilling its contents. Some of the liquid splashed onto the people, but they didn't dare utter a sound. "Use your goddamn pig brains! Don't just rely on the city! They're useless as sh*t!"

His face flushed with fury. Although people often mistook him for amiable, in truth, he had the foulest mouth in the city and cursed frequently.

"Fcking useless!" Aaron shouted, pointing his finger at his people. "Did any of you fckers even think to follow those slums?!"

Hearing this, the individuals in the room exchanged glances before mustering the courage to shake their heads.

"See! Your pig brains are stopping you from thinking, motherf*ckers!" The Callum Head pounded his fist on the table. Though he lacked the talent for cultivation, his fist remained unscathed against the bronze table.

Seeing no one respond, Aaron took a deep breath, calming himself slightly. "F*ck! Why do I bother hiring fools?"

He sat back down, leaning on his chair. Aaron closed his eyes for a moment before glaring coldly at them.

"Why are you not saying anything?" he demanded. "Come on! Say something!"

He wasn't angry because he had lost his son, but because of the humiliation his family was enduring. He would rather lose a kin than allow their reputation to be tarnished.

One brave individual stepped forward. After taking a deep breath, he spoke. "My apologies for our incompetence! We will do our best to find the killer as soon as possible! We will start by following the slums and gathering information!"

As one of them kowtowed on the ground, the rest followed suit, their heads thudding against the floor.

"Finally, someone with a brain!" Aaron said, though there wasn't a hint of praise in his tone. "Now get out of here, pig heads! And don't show your faces again without progress, or I will personally kill each one of you!"

A shiver ran down everyone's spine. They knew their family head well—he wasn't the type to joke around. When he said he would do something, he meant it.

Each of them understood that if they didn't find the killer of the Family Head's son, their lives would be forfeit.

"Our apologies once again! Please await our good news!"

As the door closed slowly, Aaron Callum's eyes burned with rage.

He couldn't stand what had happened. This humiliation—he would return it to the culprit a hundredfold!

...

Callum Family? Apollo raised an eyebrow when he heard this. To think he would hear that name so soon.

The north guard captain he killed back in the slum streets also said he was from the Callum Family. Is it fate's work for the beggar to clash with another one of their kin so soon?

A smile formed on his lips. This was good—it should help make the butterfly effect work faster.

"Oh, Callum Family, I've heard that name before," Apollo said. "Aren't you guys the ones who collect sh*t in the city to consume? I must say, your family has quite the taste."

Behind the noble stood three martial students, one of the requirements for the Young Master Syndrome. When they heard what the 'kid' said, their faces shifted from shock to anger.

"Watch your mouth! You don't know who you're talking to!"

"He's from one of the great families in Klown City!"

"By saying those words, he can cut your tongue out!"

The flies buzzed around, but the beggar focused only on the noble.

"Am I right?" Apollo asked again, the noble's face already red with anger.

"You! You will pay! I, Mahika, am not someone a lowlife like you can insult!" Mahika shouted, pointing a finger at the kid.

"Then what are you gonna do?" Apollo smiled mockingly. "I just wanted to go to the upper floor to check out some techniques, and you're obstructing me."

"Techniques?!" Mahika scoffed, looking Apollo up and down. "Who are you? Just by judging your appearance, you don't belong here. I'm a student at this academy, and I'm just worried an insect managed to sneak in! So I'm going to clean this place up!"

Apollo glanced at the noble and then at the goons. He instantly understood why they had stopped him, even without them saying it. They clearly just wanted to bully him.

However, the beggar is not someone easily stepped on.

"If you're just going to run your mouth, then stay here. I'm going upstairs," Apollo said, turning toward the stairs and starting to walk.

Mahika was left speechless. Did he just ignore my words?! I'm a noble, for fck's sake!* He felt deeply humiliated. He turned to his men and nodded.

They immediately understood what he meant and ran up the stairs, blocking the kid's path.

Got ya, Apollo thought, his eyes glinting. He wanted them to be aggressive, and they had just fallen for it.

"Get out of my way," Apollo said, staring coldly at the goons.

"They won't move unless I tell them to," Mahika said, crossing his arms. "Answer my question. Who are you, and why are you here?!"

Apollo glanced at the noble, a cunning smile spreading across his face. If they wanted to use their status to oppress someone, then he would do the same. "Me? Once you hear it, don't piss your pants."

"Try me," Mahika challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Apollo ran his fingers through his hair, introducing himself in a cool manner. "I'm Yoma, the Personal Disciple!"

Silence.

Silence lingered for a moment before laughter echoed.