[HOST INTEGRITY: 11%]

[CURRENT KARMA: 10/100]

[TIME: 10:45 AM]

Ren sat on a bench in the main hallway, watching the students flood past between periods. He took a shallow breath, wincing as his ribs protested.

To the faculty, Northwood High was a place of learning.

To the students, it was a social minefield.

To Ren Wu, viewing the world through the burning green filter of [Spirit Sight], it was neither.

It was a Distressed Asset.

The students were NPCs. The parasites clinging to them—Stress Worms, Envy Wisps, Sloth Slimes—were Mob Creeps waiting to be farmed.

“Ninety points. Thirty minutes,” Ren muttered, calculating the path efficiency in his head. “We need to clear the map before the bell rings. I need that pill, or I’m not making it to lunch.”

Jian choked on a potato chip. He looked at Ren’s trembling hands and pale face.

“Clear the map? Ren, you look like you’re about to go into cardiac arrest. If you use the Seal again, you’re not going to level up, you’re going to pass out. Can’t we just… recover naturally?”

“Natural recovery for a damaged Spirit Core takes ten years,” Ren said, standing up. He swayed slightly, then steadied himself against a locker. “I don’t have ten years. I have an invoice for 8,500 coins due in two weeks.”

Ren adjusted his sling. He didn’t pull the Tiger Seal. He couldn’t afford the mana cost.

“Jian, you’re the spotter. Call out the targets. Density is priority. I’m going to do this the manual way.”

The Grind

They moved to the Gymnasium.

The air smelled of sweat and rubber. Ren leaned against the doorframe, scanning the bleachers.

“Target,” Jian whispered, pointing to a kid sitting alone in the back row, staring blankly at his phone while the rest of the class ran laps.

A massive, translucent blob of green slime sat on the boy’s chest, weighing him down. It was dripping onto the floor.

[ENTITY: SLOTH SLIME (LEVEL 1)]

Ren walked up the bleachers.

He didn’t use the Seal. He didn’t use magic.

He leaned down, putting his face inches from the slime. He projected pure, condensed Disapproval.

“Get up,” Ren whispered to the spirit. “You are loitering on private property.”

The slime shuddered. It didn’t feel a spell; it felt the presence of a Manager. It felt the urge to look busy.

It squealed and dissolved into harmless mist, fleeing to find an easier victim.

The boy suddenly blinked, stood up, and joined the joggers.

[+5 KARMA]

They moved to the Math Wing.

The hallway was silent, filled with the scratching of pencils from open doors. But the air was buzzing.

“Mosquitos,” Ren noted.

Tiny, buzzing insects made of static electricity were flitting around the heads of students taking a calculus test. Anxiety Mosquitos.

Ren walked down the center of the hall. He didn’t stop. He just flared his killing intent outward like a spiritual bug zapper.

ZXZZT.

Dozens of tiny sparks popped in the air as the mosquitoes were incinerated by his sheer presence.

[+15 KARMA]

They moved to the Cafeteria Exit.

A couple was arguing by the lockers. Or rather, they were crying.

Hovering between them was a dark, shadowy figure with long claws, whispering lies into both their ears.

[ENTITY: JEALOUSY SHADE (LEVEL 2)]

Ren walked past them. He gripped the Tiger Seal in his pocket but didn’t draw it. He just let a fraction of its heat leak out.

“Sever,” he commanded.

The Shade shrieked, burned by the radiation of the Warlord’s Authority, and vanished. The couple stopped arguing, looking confused.

[+8 KARMA]

By the time the warning bell rang for Fourth Period, Ren was leaning against his locker, gasping for air.

Blood was dripping freely from his nose now, staining his white t-shirt. His vision was tunneling. The sheer strain of channeling Authority through a broken vessel was tearing him apart.

“Ren!” Jian hissed, handing him a tissue. “You’re bleeding out. Stop.”

Ren ignored him. He looked at the System Interface.

[CURRENT KARMA: 100/100]

“Enough,” Ren wheezed, a bloody smile touching his lips. “Open Shop.”

[SYSTEM SHOP]

[PURCHASING: MINOR BODY REFINEMENT PILL]

[COST: 100 KARMA]

[CONFIRM?]

“Confirm,” Ren commanded mentally.

A small, brown pill appeared in his hand. It looked like a ball of mud, but it smelled like fresh rain and pine needles.

Ren didn’t hesitate. He dry-swallowed it.

WHOOSH.

It wasn’t subtle. A shockwave of cold energy exploded in his stomach. It rushed through his veins like liquid nitrogen, freezing the pain instantly.

Ren gasped, his back arching off the lockers. He could feel the spiritual impurities in his blood—the toxins of weakness—being incinerated.

His vision cleared. The throbbing in his arm dulled to a manageable ache.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[BODY REFINEMENT SUCCESSFUL]

[HOST INTEGRITY: 11% -> 15%]

[STATUS: STABLE (FOR NOW)]

Ren exhaled a long breath of steam.

He wasn’t fixed—15% was still pathetic compared to his old body—but he wasn’t dying anymore.

“I can walk,” Ren said, standing up straight. “Let’s go to History. I hate being late.”

The Arrival

Mr. Henderson’s History class was usually the most boring hour of the day. The room was warm, stuffy, and smelled of chalk dust.

Ren sat in his usual seat in the back row, enjoying the sensation of not being in agonizing pain. He opened his notebook, ready to plan out the factory’s production line.

Then, the temperature dropped.

It wasn’t a breeze from an open window. It was a vacuum.

One second, the classroom was stiflingly hot and humid. The next, the sweat on Ren’s neck turned to ice. The condensation on the windows froze into intricate, jagged patterns.

Ren looked up.

His Spirit Sight was still active. He saw the parasites—the wandering stress worms and boredom imps—fleeing. They weren’t just moving; they were scrambling over each other to get out of the ventilation shafts.

They weren’t running from Ren. They were running from the door.

Something dangerous just walked into the building, Ren thought, his hand instinctively drifting toward his pocket.

The door opened.

Principal Miller walked in. He looked nervous. He was wringing his hands, sweating despite the sudden cold.

“Class,” Principal Miller announced, his voice tight. “Attention, please.”

He stepped aside.

A girl walked in.

The silence in the room became absolute.

She was wearing the standard Northwood High uniform—plaid skirt, white blazer—but on her, it looked like armor.

She had jet-black hair that fell straight to her waist, and skin so pale it looked like porcelain. Her eyes were dark, sharp, and utterly uninterested in the people around her.

But it wasn’t her face that drew the eye.

It was the case on her back.

A long, lacquered wooden case, wrapped in silk cords. It was clearly a weapon case.

“This is Ye Lingshan,” the Principal said, swallowing hard. “She is transferring from the Capital. And regarding the… accessory… she has a religious exemption permit from the School Board.”

Ren narrowed his eyes.

[SPIRIT SIGHT: ANALYZING]

She didn’t have parasites. Her soul was terrifyingly clean—like a blade that had been polished until it reflected nothing but cold light.

The air around her was distorting. Every time she moved, the dust particles in the air were sliced in half.

[WARNING: HIGH-TIER CULTIVATOR DETECTED]

[AURA: SWORD INTENT]

A Daoist, Ren realized. And not a street-performer. She’s from an Ancient Family.

Ye Lingshan didn’t introduce herself. She didn’t smile. She simply scanned the room, her gaze sweeping over the students like a searchlight.

She was hunting.

Her eyes passed over Jian (Reaper Lineage).

They passed over Sarah Miller (Spirit-Touched).

Then, they landed on Ren.

Ren’s heart skipped a beat.

She senses it. She senses the stench of the grave on me.

He didn’t use a System Skill. He used pure instinct.

Ren slumped in his chair, letting his jaw go slack and his eyes glaze over. He forced his breathing to become shallow and irregular, burying his Warlord aura under layers of mundane, sickly exhaustion.

Ye Lingshan walked down the aisle. Her steps were silent. The frost on the windows seemed to track her movement.

She stopped at Ren’s desk. The only empty seat was next to him.

She looked down at him, her nostrils flaring slightly.

“You smell like death,” she said.

Her voice was melodious, but cold. Like wind chimes in a blizzard.

Ren looked up, blinking slowly, acting confused.

“It’s called ‘Body Spray for Men’. It was on sale.”

Ye Lingshan narrowed his eyes. She tapped the wooden case on her back.

PULSE.

A wave of invisible Spirit Pressure washed over him. It was a test. A sharp, stinging probe designed to make a hidden cultivator flinch or flare their aura in defense.

Ren felt the pressure hit him. It felt like a needle to the brain.

Do not react, he commanded his own nervous system.

He forced his body to do nothing. He didn’t block it. He didn’t flare back. He simply shivered, pulling his hoodie tighter.

“Can you close the door?” Ren complained, his voice whiny. “It’s freezing.”

Ye Lingshan stared at him for one second. Two seconds.

Then, the suspicion in her eyes vanished, replaced by dismissal.

“Weak,” she muttered to herself.

She sat down in the desk next to him, placing her sword case carefully against the wall.

She pulled out a notebook. Ren watched out of the corner of his eye as she wrote a block of text.

Using [Spirit Sight] to zoom in, he realized she wasn’t taking history notes. She was logging a Quest.

[MISSION LOG: DAY 1]

[TARGET: BELL TOWER SPECTER]

[RANK: VENGEFUL SPIRIT]

[ACTION: PURGE AT 12:00]

Ren’s blood ran cold.

12:00. That was lunch break. In twenty minutes.

She wasn’t just here to study. She was here to grind XP.

And the “Mob” she was planning to farm was his future Foreman.

No, Ren thought, panic spiking in his chest. That ghost isn’t a target. That is an Asset.

If Ye Lingshan got there first, she would purify the spirit. Ren would lose his only source of free labor for the factory.

He couldn’t let that happen. He needed to claim the territory now.

Ren suddenly gripped his stomach. He let out a loud, pained groan that stopped Mr. Henderson mid-sentence.

“Mr. Henderson!” Ren gasped, playing up his pale complexion. “I… I think I’m going to throw up. My medication…”

Mr. Henderson looked at the sweaty, pale boy in the sling. “Good lord, Ren. Go to the nurse. Immediately.”

“Jian,” Ren wheezed, grabbing Jian’s arm with a vice-like grip. “Help me.”

Jian blinked, confused. “Uh? Oh! Right! I got him, Mr. Henderson! I’ll make sure he doesn’t die in the hallway!”

Ren stumbled out of the chair, leaning heavily on Jian.

As they shuffled toward the door, Ren glanced back.

Ye Lingshan was watching them. Her expression was indifferent. To her, it was just a sickly boy leaving the room. She turned her attention back to the window, staring hungrily at the Bell Tower.

[TIME UNTIL PURGE: 19 MINUTES]

The moment the classroom door clicked shut, Ren straightened up. The “sick boy” act vanished instantly.

His eyes were hard. Cold. Ruthless.

“Nurse’s office?” Jian asked, steering them left.

“No,” Ren said, steering them right, toward the stairwell. “We’re going to the Bell Tower.”

“What?!” Jian hissed. “Ren, you just escaped the Terminator in there! Why are we running toward the scary ghost zone?”

“Because she’s hunting,” Ren said, moving as fast as his broken body would allow. “Ye Lingshan marked the Tower. If she gets there first, she kills the ghost.”

Ren checked his stats. 15% Integrity.

“I need that ghost, Jian. I can’t run a factory without a manager. I have nineteen minutes to climb that tower, beat the Boss, and sign a contract before the Ice Queen shows up to delete my assets.”

Ren kicked the stairwell door open.

“This isn’t a field trip anymore,” Ren growled. “It’s a Hostile Takeover.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep