Grandpa Vremya frowned. Currently, he was remolding his body at a gym. Although he was already in good shape thanks to being a nascent-soul cultivator, it wasn’t enough to become the best at any given sport. He was competing with the freaks who focused on bodily cultivation. In the Bread Games, there were two categories: one where spiritual energy was allowed and one where it wasn’t. As a domineering expert, there was only one option for Grandpa Vremya. He signed up for both categories in every sport. Knowing there wasn’t much time to prepare, he had been living in the gym for the past week, modifying his body by working out and stimulating his muscles with spiritual energy, making sure they only grew in the places they were needed. Normally, the gym was quiet. People would come in, do their own thing, and leave, but for some reason, today, everyone was relaxing and sitting next to each other all buddy-buddy, watching their bracelets.

“No way! She actually escaped from that?”

Grandpa Vremya was too proud to ask the people sitting on the bench not too far from him what they were watching. Instead, he casually shifted his gaze around, finding a reflective surface that showed the contents of the bracelet. A familiar figure could be seen in the video. Who else could it be but Rachel? Grandpa Vremya brought his wrist up and tapped on his bracelet, turning on his screen. It didn’t take long for him to find the video the other people were watching. It was a livestream, hosted by Rachel herself. It had been Azalea’s idea. It was an easy way to bring awareness to Rachel’s cultivation base by having her fight against a false immortal while broadcasting the event. At first, Rachel had disagreed, but she changed her mind later for some unknown reason. As long as Rachel won, the Moon Lotus Sect’s place in the federation would skyrocket. Even if she lost, as long as she wasn’t captured or crippled, it was still a good thing to be the only sect in the federation possessing a false immortal.

Grandpa Vremya adjusted the length of a muscle in his calf with his spiritual energy. His gait, which had been a little off, was fixed, and the speed of the treadmill beneath his feet increased as if detecting his improved speed. He watched the video of the two false immortals fighting and stroked his beard. It was hard to tell who was winning. The camera was the best one the sect could find, but Rachel was moving too fast for the camera to capture properly. Her evasive maneuvers left people wondering how she escaped because the exact movements she used couldn’t be captured on film. As for her opponent, he was on the offensive. According to the information on the internet, the coalition’s false immortal was nicknamed Bullet King, and it was easy to see why. At least a hundred automatic machine guns were floating in the air behind the man, each of them shooting at Rachel. From the man’s control, Grandpa Vremya guessed the false immortal had passed the tribulation of the mind.

However, Grandpa Vremya wasn’t worried. False immortals were called immortals for a reason. It was unreasonably difficult to kill them unless a force much greater than them acted. The chance of dying while fighting a false immortal as a false immortal was extremely slim. If things took a dire turn, it wouldn’t be difficult for either of them to escape from each other. As such, Grandpa Vremya turned off his bracelet. He was here to develop his body, not gawk at Rachel’s performance. A frown appeared on Grandpa Vremya’s face as his muscles ruptured and reformed. It was a painful process to remodel one’s body, and it was quite easy to make mistakes. If the muscle’s strength grew too strong without an equal increase in nearby tendons’ flexibilities, certain movements would cause those tendons to tear. If the process was easy, everyone would do it. Only people who truly understood their body and how it worked would be brave enough to try Grandpa Vremya’s training procedure. There were only a few crazy people out there willing to treat their bodies like a machine, swapping parts in and out at will.

***

Rachel’s brow furrowed. To her, defensive fighting styles were despicable ones, and her opponent was the epitome of a defensive fighting style. The man didn’t even move. He sat in one place, using overwhelming firepower to keep his opponent away. Even though the bullets wouldn’t do much damage to her because of the consistent layer of frost and black lightning coming off of her body, when enough of them hit her at once, there was enough force behind them to slow her momentum and push her back. It was impossible to avoid all the bullets coming towards her, and when she forced herself through and approached him, he would whip out his explosives, shooting them at her next. So far, she hadn’t found a way to get even closer. The furthest she could reach was twenty meters away.

The force behind the false immortal’s explosives were nothing to scoff out. The speed of the projectiles was surprisingly slow, but their explosion radius was huge. Despite being able to travel faster than the projectiles, they always happened to be in her path. Even if she wanted to shield herself and fly through, she was forced back by the sheer force of the explosion. It was almost as if the false immortal could read her movements. He understood what she was going to do next and would react appropriately. His defense was absolute. Luckily, Rachel had a weapon perfect for piercing defenses. Unluckily, when she tried to use it, the false immortal acted as if he had seen it coming from a mile away. The chalk was easily avoided, and since he now knew about its existence, it wasn’t a very effective weapon anymore.

Rachel frowned. What exactly was the difference between her and her opponent? Their cultivation levels were similar. They both had a near infinite amount of spiritual energy. It pained her to admit it, but it really did seem like her battle instincts were being outclassed. She was being read like a book. Every possible movement she could make, her opponent prepared for it. Her battle instincts had never failed her before. Whenever she moved, she always made the best move possible without thinking about it. In that case, would less optimal moves fool her opponent? Rachel flew forward, but in that instant, fifty bullets struck her knee, pushing her leg back. The opponent had fired before she even moved. It was beyond reading her bodily movements. Was he reading her mind?

“Do you understand the difference between us now?” Bullet King asked. “Pull the remaining tricks out of your sleeve, realize they’re futile, and then leave me alone once you realize its hopeless and you can’t defeat me.”

Rachel’s expression darkened. It was like she was a child and was being talked down on by an elder. How long had it been since she was dismissed like this? Even the federation’s false immortal treated her with more respect. However, the false immortal did have a point. She didn’t have many tricks up her sleeve. Her strongest techniques had already been blocked, and she couldn’t seem to outwit her opponent either. Was she going to lose against this false immortal as well? No! It couldn’t be classified as a loss until her body was unable to move and her mind unable to function. She didn’t believe he had more bullets than she had spiritual energy! “Again!”

Bullet King sighed. While he was wasting time fighting this newborn false immortal, his real opponent, the false immortal of the empire, was cultivating. Well, even if he was a day behind—or even two days behind, judging by Rachel’s gusto—it wouldn’t matter much. The third tribulation, the tribulation of the spirit wasn’t something that could be passed through the accumulation of spiritual energy. Even if it couldn’t, Bullet King still felt like fighting this false immortal was a giant waste of time and money. Perhaps it was time he kicked it up a notch. Although it would be a shame for a false immortal to die immediately after breaking through, it wouldn’t be his fault. Who told her to provoke him?