Chapter Eleven: Returning Home, the Hidden Blade Martial Arts School
“Commission completed!”
“Still solo?”
“No way, that’s the Poison Moon Forest.”
“This guy must be cheating!”
“Maybe the data’s wrong.”
“Solo, 150,000? This kid’s made a fortune.”
“Reckless to the extreme. Who is this guy, really?”
“Hmph, probably a hunter from some major guild, just grinding for reputation.”
On the Hunter’s website, the comment section beneath the Poison Moon Forest commission post erupted.
Debates and speculations flowed thick and fast.
Some doubted the authenticity of the commission, others suspected the hunter himself of cheating, and a few even thought the website might be malfunctioning.
Unlike the usual sneers, this time many comments expressed admiration and amazement.
“To solo complete the Poison Moon Forest commission—that must be the first in nearly two years.”
Of course, some messages were team invitations.
“Add V2141****112, professional squad, plenty of young men and women, skilled and beautiful!”
“Strongmen squad, nitrous boost, Nine-Dragon protection, click avatar for details.”
Mi Chen was human after all.
Receiving recognition from others naturally brought him joy.
But what delighted him even more was the solid cash.
Upon returning to Junyang City, he headed straight to the Material Submission Office.
The Material Submission Office resembled a grand shopping mall.
It soared seven stories high.
Unlike the Realm Management Bureau’s nine-to-five schedule, this place was open twenty-four hours, serving hunters at any hour.
The first and second floors were for material appraisal; the third and fourth floors were for sales and purchases.
Floors above the fifth required a special guide to enter.
The daily operations here were largely maintained by robots.
These robots were equipped with Sky Eye systems developed by the Secret Realm’s Science Department, capable of appraising all materials below level three.
Their efficiency was impressive.
However, materials above level three still required human appraisers.
As the magical grade of materials increases, the complexity of their magical structure grows exponentially.
Algorithms alone weren’t sufficient; a blend of insight and luck was essential.
The Lingering Jade Sprout, though a rare material, only held a level two magical grade.
The robots could handle that.
After placing the material in the appraisal area, it took less than thirty seconds.
The inspection passed.
At this moment, the robot automatically read the commission details from the hunter’s license.
It sent the results to the client.
Once confirmed, the commission reward was automatically transferred to the hunter’s account.
Of course, taxes applied.
For a 150,000 commission, the net amount was 130,000.
While at the Material Submission Office, Mi Chen also sold the core of the Wind Devouring Python.
Unfortunately, the originally valued 10,000 core only sold for 8,000.
Material trading was often influenced by market fluctuations.
To maximize profits, many hunters preferred to funnel materials into the underground black market.
Besides material trading, the black market also offered commissions.
Since these didn’t require tax payments and carried high rewards, some hunters were willing to take the risk despite their illegality.
As an experienced transporter, Mi Chen was well aware of the dangers.
If possible, he avoided dealing with such circles.
He once knew a hunter with a bright future.
But that hunter found regular commissions too slow to pay and gradually became a specialist for the black market.
Afterwards, he vanished without a trace.
Months later, when Mi Chen heard news of him again, he had become a rotten corpse in a sewage ditch.
Buzz, buzz.
His phone vibrated.
The money had arrived.
Mi Chen stared at the nearly 130,000 balance in his account, hardly able to contain his excitement.
One hundred thirty thousand!
How long would it take if he were still just a transporter to save that much?
But as a hunter, it only took a few days.
Of course, commissions paying 150,000 were rare.
Typically, one-star commissions offered about 50,000, which after tax and divided among a team, didn’t amount to much per person.
Although hunters earned more than ordinary people, that didn’t mean their lives were easy.
Especially for the lowest-ranked one-star hunters.
Equipment, potions, training—all cost money.
For Mi Chen, the urgent task now was to quickly upgrade his hunter license.
His magic power had surpassed 400, meeting the standard for a two-star hunter.
But to officially become a two-star hunter, he still needed to complete five one-star commissions.
The Poison Moon Forest commission counted as one.
So, he needed to finish four more before applying for the two-star license.
“For the upcoming missions...”
“I need to get new gear.”
His enchanted long sword shattered in the previous battle with the Shadow.
His pistol ammo was running low.
Besides the standard large-caliber hard bullets, he wanted to try other types.
Some magic attribute bullets were said to pack a punch comparable to a full-powered strike from a sorcery-type hunter.
As an enhancement hunter, Mi Chen lacked ranged attack options besides his wind blades.
Just as he was about to rest, his phone buzzed with a message.
“Master wants you to come to the dojo tomorrow.”
The sender was Qi Xiaoyun.
She was the granddaughter of Mi Chen’s master, just turned fourteen, but by seniority, Mi Chen still had to call her senior sister.
“The dojo, huh...” Mi Chen murmured.
“Time flies.”
“Haven’t been back in a long time.”
“I wonder how Master’s health is...”
Putting weapon purchases on hold, Mi Chen planned to visit the dojo tomorrow for a proper break.
The next morning, as usual, Mi Chen completed his daily training.
Changing clothes, he took out a wooden sword from the cabinet—one he used during his dojo days.
Nearly ten years had passed, yet the wooden sword was still well cared for.
Strapping it on his back, he hopped on his motorcycle and set off for the dojo.
Soon, he arrived at the dojo.
Nestled at the end of a lush forest path, it bore no flashy signs or ostentatious decorations, quietly standing in a corner, remarkably unassuming.
Its outer walls were weathered green bricks; the deep brown door’s handle gleamed with verdigris.
Above the door hung a faded plaque inscribed in flowing calligraphy with a single character: “Hidden.”
Though the strokes were blurred, the power and grandeur behind the brushwork remained palpable.
Mi Chen stood at the entrance, clasped his fists, and bowed respectfully—a proper courtesy.
He pushed the door and stepped inside.
The familiar courtyard was spacious and tidy.
The stone slabs in the center were worn smooth by time.
Simple training equipment surrounded the area: wooden posts, sandbags, and a few slightly aged swords and boxing gloves.
In a corner, ancient trees had grown even denser, their thick canopies adding shade and a tranquil ambiance.
Mi Chen wandered around before entering the training hall at the back.
The rustic wooden house had a roof of green tiles.
He had spent countless memorable yet arduous days here.
Opening the large door, the vast training arena felt somewhat empty.
Opposite him sat a figure on a wooden chair, hands resting on a cane planted before him, back straight as a rod.
White-haired, yet his eyes sparkled with sharp light.
White brows and beard framed a forehead marked by a cross-shaped scar—an imposing presence without anger.
“I hear you finally became a hunter...” the elder said calmly.
He was Qi Wu, the dojo headmaster and Mi Chen’s master.
Mi Chen immediately clasped his fists, bowing.
“Yes, Master!”
“This old dojo’s outdated. Let’s dispense with the old formalities.”
Qi Wu stood up from his chair.
Only then did Mi Chen notice that the cane was actually a sword.
“Take it!”
The elder casually tossed a blade from the nearby rack to Mi Chen.
Its weight was substantial—a real sword.
“Master, this...”
“What, you’re going to forget everything I taught you just because you became a hunter?”
“Never.”
“Hmph, I doubt it,” Qi Wu scolded.
With his master’s words, Mi Chen no longer hesitated.
Drawing the long sword, his aura shifted sharply.
“Then, apologies in advance.”
Qi Wu raised an eyebrow.
“Your skills don’t warrant offense yet.”
Just then, a girl entered carrying tea.
She wore a ponytail, loose black short sleeves, and jeans faded from many washes—clothes once belonging to Mi Chen.
Her deep purple eyes shone brightly as she strode in with spirited steps.
About fourteen years old, brimming with vitality.
She was Qi Xiaoyun, the very one who had summoned Mi Chen back.
Upon seeing the scene, she was dumbfounded.
Shaking her head, she sighed helplessly.
They were at it again...
She knew her grandfather all too well.
The reason she called Mi Chen back was to test his strength.
Yet she hadn’t expected them to use real swords.
Knives were weapons of death—unlike wooden swords used for sparring, real swords meant real combat.
The danger was obvious.
Qi Xiaoyun couldn’t help but worry, “Please don’t get hurt...”
On the training field, Mi Chen moved first.
He didn’t use magic nor the magic eye, relying purely on physical strength and ingrained techniques.
A side slash!
Qi Wu raised his hand slightly, blocking with his sword.
His wrist exerted pressure like a clamp, tightly gripping Mi Chen’s blade.
Seeing this, Mi Chen switched from slash to thrust, attacking from the side.
“What a brilliant change of technique!” Qi Xiaoyun exclaimed.
Despite being restricted, he not only retracted his weapon in time but changed attack style.
Such moves required strong muscle control and finesse.
Yet against his master, this was still insufficient.
Qi Wu had seen through it easily.
He lightly lifted his arm, effortlessly parrying Mi Chen’s strike.
Clang!
After years of scrapping in the Secret Realm, Mi Chen’s swordplay had gained a ruthless edge.
He launched a powerful frontal strike.
Youth has its advantages.
In strength and stamina, Mi Chen clearly held the upper hand.
Concentrating all his power, the blow was formidable.
Even Qi Wu had to momentarily withdraw.
“Grandpa actually stepped back...” Qi Xiaoyun watched anxiously.
But in the next instant, she realized—
Her grandfather hadn’t retreated; it was a feint.
An observer sees all.
Standing outside, she clearly saw the whole picture.
Qi Wu’s backward step was a poised attack stance.
Qi Wu struck.
Suddenly, a flash of cold light.
“Hmph, he dodged?”
Qi Wu was surprised.
Mi Chen leaned back, narrowly avoiding the sudden slash.
Just as he prepared to counterattack—
Qi Wu unleashed a sweeping horizontal strike, forcing Mi Chen to retreat.
By then, it was too late to seize the initiative.
“This is bad, Mi Chen’s being pressured.”
Qi Wu’s blade was swift.
Mi Chen struggled even to defend.
Retreating while fighting, he gradually faltered.
Clang!
A heavy strike came.
Mi Chen barely blocked it.
But he underestimated Qi Wu’s strength.
The blade jolted violently, pushing Mi Chen’s sword aside.
A huge gap opened in his center.
“No!”
Qi Xiaoyun cried out.
Qi Wu’s body lowered, gripping the sword with both hands.
Stepping forward, he unleashed a powerful series of thrusts and slashes.
Just as Qi Wu’s blade was about to strike—
Mi Chen smiled.
A glint flickered in Qi Wu’s eyes.
He didn’t change his move.
He wanted to see how Mi Chen would counter.
Swish!
The blade traced a beautiful arc through the air.
“What is that...?”
Qi Xiaoyun was stunned.
She hadn’t expected Mi Chen to have a secret move.
“Hmph, not bad...”
At this moment, Qi Wu looked at the blade at Mi Chen’s neck and praised him.
Yet Qi Wu’s sword tip pressed against Mi Chen’s chest.
Drip, drip.
The sharp blade pierced the skin, blood dripping out.
“I lost.”
Mi Chen conceded.
Though calm in tone, he was somewhat reluctant.
Experience beats youth.
At the last moment, Qi Wu altered his grip on the sword.
In a real fight, if Qi Wu applied force upon contact, the blade would pierce Mi Chen’s heart like a nail.
Mi Chen’s body would be pushed back, making it impossible to counterattack.
He admitted defeat wholeheartedly.
Clasping his fists, he thanked his master.
“All right, as I said before, no more old formalities.”
“Xiaoyun! Where’s the bandage?”
“Geez, you even dirtied the floor,” Qi Xiaoyun hurried over with a medical kit.
Mi Chen thanked her but said, “No need, this wound will heal quickly.”
He channeled his magic.
The blood and vitality restored.
The bleeding wound closed in the blink of an eye.
Qi Xiaoyun was amazed again.
Yet Qi Wu snorted dismissively.
“Overreliance on magic isn’t good.”
Qi Wu came from the pre-awakening era.
He had witnessed the drastic changes the Secret Realm brought over seventy years.
Then he changed tone abruptly.
“Fortunately, you haven’t neglected your training.”
The subtext: Qi Wu acknowledged Mi Chen’s progress with the sword.
“That’s great!”
Qi Xiaoyun was delighted.
Mi Chen’s praise excited her most of all.
She tiptoed and ruffled his hair vigorously.
“Senior Sister Xiaoyun, you’re messing up my hairstyle.”
“Hehe, your head is better bald—it makes you look just as spirited as Grandpa!”
Qi Xiaoyun’s words made Qi Wu chuckle.
He stood with hands behind his back, shaking his head.
“You little rascal...”
Qi Xiaoyun laughed happily.
Seeing Mi Chen return was her happiest moment recently.
No wonder, besides her grandfather, Mi Chen was the closest person to her.
Ten years ago, after Mi Chen’s parents died, Qi Wu took him in.
At that time, Qi Xiaoyun was just four.
Though only four, she had apprenticed half a month before Mi Chen, technically making her senior sister.
This small dojo had been their home and training ground.
Though master and disciples, their bond was more like family.
In the magic awakening era, people preferred simple and practical modern combat techniques; ancient martial arts requiring long-term foundation training were becoming obsolete.
To put it bluntly—
Qi Wu’s dojo had only two disciples: Mi Chen and Qi Xiaoyun.
“Hmm? What’s that smell...” Mi Chen sniffed the air.
Qi Xiaoyun suddenly realized, “Oh no, I left the tofu boiling on the stove!”
The End.