Chapter Nine: Return to Reality

Time flew by in a blur, and soon the three-day stay had come to an end. Because his days had been so full, Mu Rongxun hardly felt the passage of time. At the final moment, he received a direct reminder from the Tower of Magic.

[Player's allotted time has reached zero. Power returns to the real world.]
[First return to reality. Please remember the following rules.]
[Rule One: Players must not disclose any information about the Magic Tower Park in reality by any means. Violation will incur a warning; a second offense will result in the dispatch of an executor for immediate punishment.]
[Rule Two: Players cannot use any skills, bloodlines, or equipment acquired in the Park while in reality, except for personal attributes and passive skills.]
[Rule Three: If a player inadvertently reveals anything about the Park, all who hear must be executed.]
[Finally, player skills and equipment will be sealed. They will be unsealed upon return to the Park. Wishing you a pleasant journey in reality!]
[Teleportation begins: Target, the real world!]

The familiar sensation of teleportation swept over him, and in the next instant, Mu Rongxun found himself in a narrow alley. Everything around him was familiar, for this was where he had first witnessed Zhao Cheng from his school chasing after their classmate Xu Ping. Xu Ping was his predecessor. It was here that Xu Ping had died, and Mu Rongxun had watched Zhao Cheng take the blood-red emblem from Xu Ping. After Xu Ping's body vanished, Mu Rongxun was chosen as the designated successor to inherit the position.

Now the alley was empty, with no trace left behind. In fact, from what he had witnessed before and from the information provided by Qiqige, it was clear that Zhao Cheng and Xu Ping had not actually fought. Instead, Xu Ping had died because he violated the Park's rules.

Qiqige’s data had a subtle hint regarding inheritance of abilities: under the Park's witness, two people could sign a contract, agree on terms, and once one party fulfilled the other's requirements, they could inherit the other's "legacy"—be it equipment or abilities.

Mu Rongxun surmised that Xu Ping, having lost hope for survival, wanted to enjoy life one last time, to bask in glory in the real world—dating the school beauty, driving luxury cars, indulging in all sorts of pleasures. All of this had been provided behind the scenes by Zhao Cheng.

He hadn’t understood these things at first, but now, looking back, it all made sense. Later, once Zhao Cheng fulfilled the terms of their contract, Xu Ping reneged, forcing Zhao Cheng to request enforcement. The result was that Xu Ping was stripped of everything by the Park and vanished before Mu Rongxun’s eyes.

Some of this he had overheard from their conversation, some he had pieced together from the information, and some was his own conjecture. Regardless, he knew he must hide his identity as a player well. Having his real-life identity exposed would be troublesome, especially given how this system allowed the strong to exploit the weak.

Leaving the alley, Mu Rongxun returned home as if nothing had happened. He had been missing for several days, but for someone who lived alone, no one really noticed. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate—someone did care.

Seeing dozens of missed calls on his phone, Mu Rongxun smiled silently. No matter what, these calls proved that someone was worried about him while he was gone, even if it was only out of duty.

“Teacher…” He dialed the number.

“Mu Rongxun, where have you been? Do you realize you’re in your final year of high school? This is the most crucial time in your lives. I know you’re exhausted, but if you make it through this stage, university will be a whole new world—no limits, endless possibilities! Why can’t you understand that?”

Before he could speak, a barrage of words poured from the other end, so rapid they sounded like a machine gun. All Mu Rongxun could do was nod repeatedly in response.

The caller was his homeroom teacher, a woman fond of nagging. Now in middle age, her figure had lost its shape, and years of being a class advisor had made her temper somewhat irascible. But no matter what, she was a responsible teacher.

Mu Rongxun’s sudden absence for several days had left her anxious, fearing that the stress of senior year might have caused some problem. He was a special case: no relatives, so she couldn’t contact anyone. If she’d known where he lived, she would have come knocking at his door.

After her tirade, she didn’t really scold him further. At this stage, students faced immense pressure, and Mu Rongxun’s situation—without parents or relatives—made him even more unique. In the end, she simply comforted him and told him to come back to class before hanging up.

Though he had been chastised, Mu Rongxun felt no irritation. Since his parents’ passing, it had been a long time since anyone cared about him.

In his country, those like him—without family—were usually sent to orphanages. But he owned his own home and refused to be adopted. In such cases, a special state institution acted as guardian until he came of age. This meant he could avoid adoption and orphanages, but had to rely entirely on himself, as the guardianship was little more than a formality.

He had grown used to this long ago.

In the days that followed, Mu Rongxun went to school to complete his withdrawal paperwork. He knew he would no longer have time for classes, and his frequent absences would eventually attract attention. Withdrawing was the best option.

His homeroom teacher tried to persuade him for a long time, but in the end, could only suggest changing his withdrawal to a leave of absence, so that he would have a fallback if he ever wished to return, or at least a chance to get a diploma.

Unable to refuse her kindness, Mu Rongxun agreed to the leave of absence.

Afterwards, he spent his days hidden away at home, training daily. First, to see if physical training could improve his constitution; second, to practice his swordsmanship.

He believed that practice made perfect. Even if he couldn’t level up, he could still gain experience. Skills honed through self-discipline were different from those acquired instantly; the former were truly his own, while the latter required time to absorb and digest.

Previously, during simulated combat, he had only managed to quickly absorb the basics without fully understanding them. Now, with time on his hands, he could carefully study the finer points.

Every day, Mu Rongxun would go to a nearby park and find a secluded spot to practice with his blade. Occasionally, someone would see him, but they simply assumed he was a martial arts enthusiast.

Many people in the world enjoyed practicing martial arts—it wasn’t anything unusual.

As he trained with his blade, he also grew familiar with the weapon in his hand, seeking to make it an extension of his own body.