Chapter 35: Chapter 35: A Real Cultivation World

Then he freezes.

His eyes widen as soon as he recognizes the item.

He picks it up, turning it over slowly, then compares it with the bounty notice pinned to the board behind him. His throat tightens.

“T-This…” the clerk mutters. “This belongs to one of our high-tier targets.”

He looks back at Aiden, clearly startled.

“That man carried an eighty–gold-coin bounty.”

The surrounding noise seems to dim for a moment.

Aiden simply stands there, calm and unreadable beneath his hood.

The clerk swallows, suddenly much more respectful.

“Please wait a moment, sir. I need to verify this.”

He hurriedly gathers the documents and disappears through a side door, leaving Aiden alone at the counter, while a few nearby patrons sneak curious glances his way, already sensing that something big has just been turned in.

The side door opens again a short while later.

This time, the clerk doesn’t come back alone.

Two men follow him out, both dressed in dark, neatly tailored robes embroidered with the sigil of the bounty guild. Their posture is straight, their expressions composed, and the faint pressure rolling off them makes it clear they aren’t ordinary staff.

Conversations in the hall begin to quiet.

The older of the two higher-ups studies Aiden for a moment, his sharp eyes lingering on the hood shadowing Aiden’s face. Then he gives a small, polite nod.

“Sir,” he says calmly, “please come with us to the VIP room.”

The words land like a stone dropped into water.

A ripple of murmurs spreads through the guild hall.

—

“Please, have a seat,” the older man says, gesturing politely.

As Aiden steps inside, the door closes behind him, cutting off the whispers of the crowd, while outside, speculation continues to spread through the guild about the mysterious hunter who just earned himself an invitation into the VIP room.

One of the higher-ups excuses himself and leaves the room, his footsteps fading down the corridor.

The remaining man closes the door properly before turning back to Aiden. He looks to be in his late fifties, with graying hair tied neatly behind his head and calm, experienced eyes. He offers a slight bow of courtesy.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the old man says. “I am Wen Calder, one of the senior administrators of Breim City’s bounty guild.”

His gaze lingers on Aiden for a moment, trying to peer beneath the hood and mask. Of course, he sees nothing. Still, he doesn’t press the matter. Hunters who hide their identities are common, especially the capable ones.

Calder gestures for Aiden to sit.

“Sir,” he continues, settling into the chair across from him, “are you a bounty hunter who happened to pass through our city? That man you brought in has been causing trouble for a long time. Robbery, murder, extortion… he’s been a thorn in Breim’s side for nearly two years. Many tried to take him down, but none succeeded.”

His tone carries genuine relief.

Aiden sits calmly, folding his hands in front of him.

“I’m new to this city,” Aiden says evenly. “But I didn’t come here from another one.”

The answer is vague, but Calder simply nods, accepting it without further questions.

“I see.”

The old man reaches into a drawer beside him and pulls out a small wooden case reinforced with brass. He places it on the table and slides it toward Aiden.

“Then, as promised, here is your reward.”

Calder opens the case.

Inside, neatly stacked in velvet-lined rows, are gold coins, each one stamped with the official seal of Breim City. Even in the soft lanternlight, they gleam brightly.

“Eighty gold coins,” Calder says. “The full bounty.”

Aiden’s eyes flick briefly over the treasure. Even he can’t help feeling a quiet satisfaction. This single job earned more than most people make in years.

Calder studies him again, his voice lowering slightly.

“Breim City appreciates your help, sir. People like you make our streets safer, whether you realize it or not.”

Aiden closes the case and rises to his feet.

“Then we’re done here,” he says simply.

Calder gives another polite bow.

“If you choose to take more contracts in the future, our doors are always open.”

With the heavy box of gold in hand and his face still hidden beneath hood and mask, Aiden turns and leaves the VIP room.

By the time Aiden returned to the house, night had already settled over the district.

The streets outside were quiet, wrapped in shadows and distant lanternlight. Inside, the place was silent as well. The three brothers were already asleep, their soft breathing drifting from the shared room down the hall.

Aiden closed the door behind him and made his way to his room.

He sat on the edge of the bed and exhaled slowly. Only then did he raise his hand.

A translucent screen shimmered into existence before his eyes.

[Name: Aiden (Level: 8)]

Class: Necromancer (Death God — Locked)

Basic-Grade Summon: 2

Bronze-Grade Summon: 2

Iron-Grade Summon: 0

Silver-Grade Summon: 0

Gold-Grade Summon: 0

Legendary-Grade Summon: 0

Mythical-Grade Summon: 0

Summon Slot Available: 4/13

Skills: Lord of the Dead, Bone Shield, Bone Spear, Undead Reinforcement, Undead Sight

Passive Skills: Mana Channeling, Necrotic Sustain

His gaze lingered on the number beside his name.

Level 8.

“So I really leveled up…”

He leaned back against the wall, letting the realization sink in.

Just one level, from seven to eight, earned by killing that bounty target.

Aiden let out a quiet breath.

“I gained a level just from taking down a body tempering practitioner.”

From what he had learned so far, that stage was called Body Tempering. It was the first step on the martial path, where cultivators strengthened every part of their body, bones, muscles, tendons, even their internal organs. Compared to ordinary people, they were already monsters. Punching through wood, cracking stone, leaping rooftops, those were considered basic feats.

Aiden stared at the floating screen, his thoughts drifting.

As he gathered more information about this world, one truth became clearer by the day.

This wasn’t just a martial world.

It was a true cultivation world.

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