Douluo Dalu 2: Way of Heaven

Afternoon.

"Teams."

"Assault, Agility, Control, Support, Defense."

"The reason Shrek's Seven Monsters reign supreme isn't just individual excellence—it's their seamless coordination."

After morning introductions and sparring observations, Instructor Mu Jin continued, "Form three-person squads based on mutual preference. These will be your teams for the three-month Freshman Assessment. I'll adjust based on your capabilities."

The moment she finished, every eye snapped toward An Zhen and Ning Tian.

An Zhen: Defeated Wu Feng's Red Dragon Martial Soul and a sixth-year senior.

Ning Tian: Three-ringed Seven Treasure Glazed Pagoda wielder—peerless support.

Mu Jin observed silently. She wouldn't interfere unless team compositions were fundamentally flawed. Inevitably, elites cluster together while the struggling form their own groups. Forcing stars to carry weaker teammates? Unfair. Their futures hinge on this assessment. Students must leverage their own connections.

"Ning Tian."

The golden-haired heiress turned, extending a jade-white hand. Sapphire eyes gleamed like polished gemstones. "Join Wu Feng and me. Let's claim the championship."

This was no impulse—it was calculated. As heir to the Nine Treasure Glazed Pagoda Sect, Ning Tian understood the value of alliances. Shrek Academy gathered the continent's finest talents, and An Zhen's feats marked him as prime recruitment.

"Gladly."

An Zhen cared little for teams, but fighting alongside elegant girls? Perfect.

The class's strongest attacker and supporter had united, adding Wu Feng's formidable assault. Though humiliated by An Zhen earlier, the Red Dragon girl had since dominated sparring sessions to cement her rank.

Ignoring disappointed stares, An Zhen retrieved a plush pillow from his desk and laid his head upon it.

Ning Tian & Wu Feng: ?

Classmates: ?

All eyes shifted to Instructor Mu Jin. Sleeping in class?!

"An Zhen cultivates through his Martial Soul in this state. Vice Dean Du has approved it." Mu Jin's tone brooked no argument. Strange? Yes. But time will reveal truth.

"Bizarre," Wu Feng muttered, though she resisted poking him. Disrupting cultivation was taboo.

⋯

World Modulation Mode.

In the virtual classroom, An Zhen rose from his seat.

NPC dummy handles cultivation.

Though his virtual world could envelop the entire girls' dorm (expanding with his soul strength, undetectable as higher-dimensional overlay), recent nights belonged to Huo Yutong and Wang Dong.

"But classrooms… feel more stimulating."

He grinned at the replicated Ning Tian.

The heiress's保养得宜的肌肤 (meticulously maintained skin) glowed pearl-white, fragrant as orchids. Her shoulder-length hair flowed into a golden waterfall. The snug white dress hugged her slender waist and modest curves. A fluffy cat tail sprouted above her silk-stockinged hips; snow-white ears twitched atop her head. Delicate feet sheathed in translucent white silk stockings pressed into the plush carpet.

"Become my kitten."

"Meow~"

Sapphire eyes gained playful dependence. She knelt, palms on carpet, silk-clad soles tucked beneath her. Then she pounced into her master's arms.

Noble heiress. Obedient cat.

The contrast intoxicated.

An Zhen pinched her silk-sheathed cheek. A finger slipped into her樱桃小口 (cherry mouth). Like a favored toy, she instinctively suckled.

"Fingers won't yield milk," he teased.

⋯

Reality:

"This is critical for passing your assessment!" Mu Jin lectured sternly.

Virtual World:

An Zhen cradled the catgirl, heat pooling in his veins. He gripped her silk-sheathed feet. "Every kitty needs a tease toy."

"Meow?"

⋯

Ning Tian blinked, perplexed by her bare soles rubbing together in reality.

"Pent-up moods need release," An Zhen yawned, stretching. The world is beautiful.

Huo Yutong's sweetness, Wang Dong's elegance—their company delighted him. But An Zhen remained a teenaged boy with urges. Admiring budding flowers isn't crime—they bloom like high-schoolers now.

His gaze sharpened. A duplicate of his meditating self materialized.

Cultivation accelerates.

Silver light flashed in his obsidian eyes. Streams of fluorescent energy—heaven-and-earth essence and soul power—flowed visibly through his vision. Speed had surged from 10% to 60% of his Huo Yutong-boosted maximum.

Not virtual enhancement—my world resists Douluo's suppression.

Without a conscious "World Will" (like a future Plane Master), Douluo operated on instinct. Resistance didn't intensify pressure—like an ant beneath an unchanging rock. Rules-bound. Artificial.

How do I know?

Worldly intuition. Like infants knowing to suckle.

"But defiance extracts cost."

Humanity frayed from his eyes strand by strand—literally. An Zhen allowed it. Control was possible, yet unnecessary.

"Unexpected gains," he smiled, the expression not reaching his icy eyes.

Pressure forges growth.

His soul expanded as the virtual world strained against its confines. Soul-force cultivation remained rare in this era—no established systems beyond spirit-type Martial Souls, herbs, Purple Demon Eyes, or Heavenly Dream Ice Silkworms.

Hammering my soul against the world tempers it.

"Yet dosage matters. I'll cap resistance at 50% output—preserving enough emotion."

He needed an emotional anchor.

His hand snapped out, dragging Wu Feng's replica from her studies. Canine ears sprouted atop her fiery red hair. Her uniform strained over athletic curves; sheer black stockings sheathed legs toned like steel wrapped in velvet.

A bet fulfilled.

An Zhen wasn't cruel—just appreciative.

He lifted her booted foot onto his lap. Fingertips hooked the stocking's bite into her thigh. Snap. The elastic band recoiled against firm muscle.

Risqué.

Calloused pads traced down silk-clad calves, over sculpted ankles, to resilient soles and rounded toes.

Feet hold no special allure.

He simply worshipped beauty.

"50% resistance optimizes growth," he concluded, one arm around the barefoot catgirl, the other embracing the black-stockinged hound. From his plush bed, he watched the lecturing teacher. "Though occasional… ventilation helps."