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Chapter 363: Jack Rust against the World
🕑 Added 2024-02-01 17:36:01 +0000 UTCThe gathering was eventually disbanded. The Head Envoy had planted a bomb in everyone’s heart and painted a target on Jack’s back, then calmly strode away. The two other Envoys had followed him, while the Sage had promised to find Jack later before taking off.
As that happened, the gathered cultivators did not disperse. Far too many things had happened; a hidden realm was discovered, Min Ling received a Thunder Dao World, and most importantly, Jack Rust had the chance to earn a World Anchor—a chance which, if he failed to grasp, would become theirs.
Many cultivators gave Jack burning stares. If he failed, they would have a slim chance of earning a World Anchor and eliminating the guillotine hanging over their heads. Everyone here was talented—they believed that, depending on the contents of the talent trial the Head Envoy had suggested, they would have at least a slim chance of winning. Even if they failed, it was okay. If they could cause Jack to lose out on the World Anchor and a top ranker later got it, they would receive that top ranker’s eternal gratitude.
Jack calmly floated to his bros, ignoring the storm of whispers around him. The battle had already started—everyone here was an enemy, and he would be damned if he gave them the satisfaction.
It was Jack Rust against the world.
“Listen to me,” he said as he landed. All the bros stared at him; some were conflicted, others were fidgety, and a few seemed steadfast. Jack looked them all in the eyes as he spoke. “I am now public enemy number one. If you want to distance yourself from me, now is the time—I will not blame you. If you choose to stay, you will suffer pressure and humiliation, and your cultivation will be temporarily hindered. You might even experience danger. However, if you do remain by my side, we will be true brothers and sisters. When I rise in the future, I will not forget you. The choice is yours.”
Speaking to this point, Jack crossed his arms and waited. Brock also said nothing, stepping to Jack’s side immediately.
They still remained in the middle of the crowd. All sorts of burning gazes landed on their location, as if they were surrounded and eyed by a pack of hyenas. The twenty-something bros felt their backs strain under the pressure. They emitted cold sweat.
The Cathedral was not a peaceful place. It had rules, but it tacitly allowed bullying and pressuring others. It was meant to be a highly competitive environment where true geniuses could rise with everyone else acting as their foil. Now, the difficulty was cranked to the full for Jack. That would naturally include everyone around him. To remain by his side was to throw oneself into danger and gamble everything for questionable benefits. Not many could do that.
Even if all sorts of assault had been forbidden, there were many ways to bully people.
One by one, some bros slid into the crowd. They had joined for fun—they weren’t really going to risk their lives for Jack, not to mention they were all on the weaker end of the Cathedral. Throughout the process, Jack and Brock remained silent, letting it happen.
Of the twenty-something bros, most left. When enough time had passed and the deed was done, only ten remained. That was already far more than Jack expected.
“You have helped me in the past, and we even come from the same planet,” Dorman said, laughing. “If I abandoned you now, I would be the lowest of trash!”
“Once a bro, always a bro,” said Osmu Sosmu, the handsome man who was ranked 793rd. His three friends—the djinn, the mosquitoid, and the other man—had disappeared.
Jack passed his gaze over the gathered people. They were weak and insignificant in the context of the Cathedral, yet they steadfastly remained by his side. He carved their names and faces into his heart.
“Well said, Osmu,” he replied, warmth filling his chest. “You are true bros. Isn’t that right, Brock?”
“Right,” Brock replied simply. His eyes shone golden. “Fake bros—break!”
Every bro who had abandoned Jack suddenly felt a sharp pain in their heart. It was grief. In that moment, they had lost something very important, though they didn’t know what. A couple of them even considered going back, but it was too late now. They could only shake their heads—the decision had been made.
Jack wanted to say more things, but now was not the time. They were surrounded by a bunch of ruthless, greedy individuals. Thankfully, the Head Envoy had directly forbidden fighting, so they hadn’t attacked him yet.
“Make way,” he said. “We will pass.”
The cultivators stared him down. They did not make way. Most were too weak to matter, but a few were ranked as high as Jack or even higher. Their eyes sparked with ideas; they weren’t going to just let him leave like that.
Jack frowned. “Staring at me will change nothing. Make way or attack me if you dare.”
Of course, only an idiot would blatantly break the rules of the Cathedral. But there were other ways.
“Funny you would say that,” a voice came from the crowd. A few people unwillingly parted to reveal a tall, tanned, muscular woman with red hair done in a ponytail. Her gaze was hardened, and on her back was a gray claymore. Unlike most cultivators, she did not wear robes, but brown shorts and an equally brown tank top. Jack thought she looked like a bloodthirsty army commander.
He took in the new arrival. Seven-fruit… Could be worse.
“What do you want?” he asked directly.
“I have long heard of your exploits,” the woman replied in a deeper tone than expected. “A one-fruit C-Grade ranking higher than me… I would love to experience your Dao. What do you say? Are you up for a little spar?”
Jack frowned. “And who are you?”
“Rank 220, Mabe Asphel,” she replied. Her grin was savage. “But you can call me mommy.”
Some cultivators broke into laughter. Jack ignored them completely. As soon as their personal benefit was involved, all finesse went out of the window and they became nothing more than base animals, a part of the mob. It was impressive that people like that could reach the C-Grade.
However, he didn’t have the mental resources to bother with them. This rough-looking woman had actually cornered him.
His ranking was 216th. Technically, it was higher than hers, so her asking for a spar was not shameful. She had every right to challenge him. The problem was, Jack’s ranking was a bit inflated. His regeneration helped him climb higher than he otherwise could—in a real duel, his strength was only around the 260th rank.
In other words, this woman was currently stronger than him. If they fought, it would be possible for her to “accidentally” kill him. She would be admonished and punished, of course, but not too seriously. Accidents could always happen when sparring with one’s full strength.
Even if she didn’t kill him, she could give him a grievous injury. The Life Drop was most useful for external wounds; if his heart was pierced, or if his leg was cut off, regenerating would consume a massive amount of time and energy. It would push back his cultivation by at least a couple weeks.
And that’s without even mentioning the psychological effect of losing a duel. If he wanted to maximize his cultivation speed, he had to remain in tip-top mental form. Losing a close duel would be a blow.
Then again, so would be to shamefully decline.
Jack’s stare met the woman’s. She knew exactly what she was doing. He’d seen her conversing with Baron Longform while everyone was still gathering; the Baron had seen his duel against Marcus William, where his fists kept getting sliced and regenerating. With the baron’s experience, he could estimate the effect such a regeneration would have on his ranking and realize that this woman was the worst possible opponent for Jack.
“What’s the matter?” Mabe asked. “Cat got your tongue?”
Jack did not respond. Mabe roared with laughter.
“Check it out, everyone! Jack Rust, the prodigy who blinded even the Envoys with his halo, is nothing but a tiny little coward!”
Some people followed her laughter, while others expected to see a show. The bros were all hesitating, not knowing what to do, while Brock remained calm and collected.
Jack chuckled. “It has nothing to do with bravery,” he said. “I’m just lamenting how my fist would be wasted on trash like you.”
“Oho?” Her gaze took on a dangerous tint. “Then why don’t you try me, big boy?”
“I will. Of everyone here, you are the lowest of the low…but, unfortunately, I cannot refuse the challenge of someone lower in ranking than myself, or people will think I’m some sort of rubber ball they can push around.”
“Well said!” the woman exclaimed, ignoring his insults. She was already growing excited.
“Just give me a bit of time to stabilize my foundation,” Jack added, dousing her excitement. “I don’t need too long. Six months should do. After all, I just broke through.”
“Huh? Six months?” Her brows fell. “What are you talking about? Why would I wait six months for you?”
“I just broke through, and the Head Envoy’s summons interrupted my meditation. As pitiful as you are, taking care of you would still require some energy, and my lingering insights would melt away. I will not delay my cultivation for a random tramp.”
His repeated insults were finally getting to her. She snorted. “You speak a lot but do little. Your six months are clearly an excuse so you can increase your strength. If you don’t dare to fight, just say it. Everyone here knows that only a coward would refuse a challenge from a lower-ranked cultivator. We can even bet if you want.”
“Refuse a challenge? Hah!” Jack exclaimed, taking a step forward. “You say that I want to cultivate more and increase my strength before facing you, but what’s the problem with that? If I have time to cultivate, so do you. Our current ranks are similar; whether we fight now, in six months, or in six years, the gap between us shouldn’t change much. Saying that is like admitting you’re untalented. Moreover, six months is very, very little time. How could I break through before then?”
Mabe frowned. She believed that Jack was spouting a ton of bullshit, but the truth was, she never thought he would actually agree to fight. She just wanted to humiliate him a bit. Thinking about it, six months really was a very short timespan. In the C-Grade, taking decades or even centuries between each fruit was normal, and taking a year was considered extremely fast. There was no way Jack could break through within six months. His strength couldn’t grow significantly.
Of course, she knew that Jack was extremely talented, and also that he carried a body-enhancing Life Artifact. He would surely find some way to close the gap between them until then…but by how much? Mabe was ranked 220th, but in truth, she hadn’t visited the Globe in a long time. Her current strength might even be able to break into the one hundreds.
Was it possible that Jack’s strength would increase that much in a short six months?
Greed appeared in her mind. There were unknown variables, but victory would bring so many benefits. If she could seriously injure Jack, Baron had promised her a hundred Dao stones. If she could kill him, she would receive two hundred. Those would save her several years of cultivation.
“Fine,” she agreed. “Six months from now, here, at the Cathedral Square. I will be waiting.”
Many people groaned. Not only because they wanted to see a fight right now, but because they, too, wanted to challenge Jack. Now that he’d agreed to a duel in six months, challenging him before that would just be wasting saliva.
But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t find other ways to hamper him.
“Good,” Jack said, then raised his sight to the surrounding cultivators. “What exactly are you all waiting for?”
Reluctantly, the crowd parted. They let him pass. Jack, Brock, Dorman, and the rest of the bros walked through, feeling as if they would be torn to pieces at any second.
But that didn’t happen. They made it out of the square, then calmly walked towards village four, where most of them lived.
Jack looked back. His eyes were shining like stars. Deep inside, he enjoyed this situation. It was like Hell all over again—he was surrounded by enemies on all sides, but this time, he had the protection of rules, and a large number of resources propelling him forward. All those greedy cultivators would only serve as his stepping stones, punching bags on which to harden his fists.
Yes, they were all geniuses, but they were nothing compared to him. His path was inevitable.
“What will you do now, big bro?” Brock asked.
“Is there even a question?” Jack replied, his white teeth showing. “I’ll do what I always do—get stronger!”
