After the Skyfall

Dull, heavy thuds echoed through the third-floor hallway.

Blood splattered alongside agonized screams.

No matter how much Wu Zhen begged for mercy, Li Yi showed no restraint. His only response was strike after merciless strike—each more brutal than the last. Eventually, Wu Zhen stopped pleading. His body grew limp, unable even to raise his hands in defense.

“Li Yi, if you keep going, he’ll die. And we’re not interested in hiring a murderer as an energy guide.”

The voice came from the far end of the hallway.

Supervisor Xu Ming had finally arrived after hearing the commotion. Yet, instead of intervening, he simply gave a word of warning.

Hearing this, Li Yi reluctantly let go, withdrawing his bloodstained knee.

“Wu Zhen, my apologies. I might have gone a little overboard,” Li Yi said, his tone serious. “But as a favor to me, let’s forget this ever happened. Don’t dwell on it—let the past stay in the past. I’ll treat you to a meal later. We’re still brothers, still friends, right?”

“You—you can go f*** yourself… cough cough…”

Wu Zhen was still conscious, though his face was covered in blood. His voice was weak, words slurred.

Li Yi squatted down, looking him straight in the eye.

“Oh? So you don’t like giving people face either? What a coincidence—I don’t either. You should be grateful this is a Safe Zone. If we were in the Wasteland District, you’d already be dead.”

“Cough cough… You… you think you could kill me? I—I don’t believe you…”

Wu Zhen forced his swollen eyes open. The vicious glare from before had disappeared—now, his gaze was hazy, nothing but a sea of blood-red.

“Who knows?” Li Yi mused. “Not like we can test it, right?”

He reached out, running his hand over Wu Zhen’s head.

Wu Zhen’s body trembled. It felt as if a ferocious beast was hovering over him, its hot breath licking against his scalp. A deep, instinctual fear gripped his chest—this Li Yi wasn’t joking. He genuinely wanted to kill him.

Seeing Wu Zhen remain silent and motionless, Li Yi lost interest. He let go, stood up, and turned his gaze toward the others.

“This guy…” The rest of the group tensed up.

Li Yi’s eyes swept over them as he spoke seriously. “You all still owe me a favor.”

Zhao Xiaoxiao forced a nervous smile, her expression betraying a mix of fear and unease. “Li Yi, this was all just a misunderstanding. There was no need to get physical. If you don’t want to accept our offer, then fine—we won’t push you.”

Maybe Li Yi had no status, no wealth. Just a nobody.

But none of that mattered when he was someone willing to strike first, willing to throw all civility aside and resort to pure violence.

Li Yi cast her an indifferent glance before shifting his focus to Xu Ming, the supervisor. He pointed at the crumpled Wu Zhen lying on the floor.

“How are you going to handle this?”

“This was a personal fight between you two. We won’t intervene,” Xu Ming stated in an official tone. “But if you want to fight next time, do it in the underground training hall. That’s what it’s there for.”

“Good.”

Li Yi nodded. “I’m broke and can’t afford compensation. But I do have a remedy—buy two hot eggs, wrap them in a towel, and press them against the bruises. It’ll heal faster.”

“He’s way past the point where two hot eggs are gonna fix him,” Xu Ming replied. “We don’t care what kind of drama you guys have, but work starts at midnight. If anyone fails to show up, it counts as a breach of contract, and there will be a penalty fee.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t miss work. Since we’re all done here, I’ll head back to my room. Call me if something comes up.”

With that, Li Yi turned and walked into his room, closing the door behind him.

Xu Ming simply gave his assistant a brief instruction: “Get someone to clean up. Make sure there’s no bloodstains left behind.”

After the others had left, one of the cultivators cursed in frustration. “Damn it! That Li Yi… Who the hell does he think he is? If he hadn’t ambushed Wu Zhen, there’s no way he would’ve won.”

“If you’re so tough, why didn’t you step in earlier?” another person scoffed. “I told you, people with nothing to lose aren’t afraid of anything. We should’ve just asked him nicely, not tried to strong-arm him. Zhao Xiaoxiao, weren’t you the one who said Li Yi had crazy high cultivation stats? If he awakens his medium abilities in the future, what are you gonna do if he comes back for revenge?”

“Cultivation isn’t just about social maneuvering—it’s also about bloodshed and violence,” another person added. “You’ll never understand the aggression that’s buried deep in every cultivator’s bones. Wu Zhen crossed the line. Cutting off a man’s source of income is like killing his parents. We thought Li Yi would compromise, but that was just wishful thinking on our part.”

“We all come from relatively stable backgrounds. We’re not really poor. But Li Yi? He’s different. He’s so broke he can’t even afford a ride home.”

“And yet, we still tried to squeeze him? No wonder he was willing to go all out. The real question is—if it ever comes down to life and death, are you willing to risk everything the way he is?”

Zhao Xiaoxiao’s expression flickered with uncertainty, a growing unease creeping into her heart.

If Li Yi awakened his medium abilities and surpassed them in cultivation, his revenge would be a serious threat.

“Enough. Let’s end this here. Forget about what we discussed earlier—just mind your own business from now on. Don’t drag anyone else down with you.”

With that, the temporary alliance among them instantly crumbled. None of them spared another glance at the beaten and bloodied Wu Zhen. Instead, they silently returned to their rooms, each weighed down by their own troubled thoughts.

Their moods were grim.

Because they had just made an enemy out of a highly promising cultivator.

“Damn… That Li Yi really went for it. He wasn’t just fighting—he was beating him to death,” Zhang Gao muttered under his breath inside Room 6, having watched the whole thing from behind his door. His heart pounded with both shock and fear.

He had purposely stayed out of sight earlier. Though he had been pressured just like the others, he didn’t act against Li Yi since it didn’t directly affect his own interests. But never in his wildest dreams did he expect things to escalate like this.

“Good thing I refused to join them,” Zhang Gao thought with relief. “Otherwise, I’d be on Li Yi’s blacklist too.”

He smirked to himself. Zhao Xiaoxiao and the others probably wouldn’t get a wink of sleep tonight. If Li Yi ever unlocked his medium abilities, with his ruthless nature, he might just pay them a ‘friendly visit’ in the middle of the night. Even if he didn’t kill them, they’d end up crippled.

“If I were them, I’d quit this job and get as far away as possible. But then again… they can’t quit. They’d have to pay a contract termination fee.”

Watching those people suffer filled Zhang Gao with satisfaction.

Yet, at the same time, he started to feel a newfound admiration for Li Yi.

This guy was different.

He wasn’t just tough—he had potential.

And in the world of cultivation, potential meant everything.

Before long…

The hallway returned to silence.

Everyone stayed quietly in their rooms, choosing, with unspoken agreement, to completely forget what had just happened. No one brought it up again.

Meanwhile, Li Yi was working to calm himself, attempting to enter a meditative state.

He could feel how much he had changed.

Ever since his brush with death in the slums, it was as if his very soul had undergone a transformation. When he had attacked Wu Zhen just now, there wasn’t a shred of hesitation in him. In fact, for a brief moment, he had genuinely wanted to kill him.

‘How the hell did I go from a decent young man to someone this violent?’

A thought surfaced in his mind—was he truly as innately evil as the resentment inside the Blade Coin had suggested?

‘No, that’s impossible. It has to be the influence of that lingering resentment. That must be one of the side effects of a damaged artifact. Yeah, that’s definitely it. I’m a good person.’

‘…But damn, beating the crap out of him felt amazing. Heh.’

Li Yi convinced himself with that reasoning and gradually settled his mind.

Before long, he successfully entered meditation.

However, instead of drawing on the cosmic energy stored within the Blade Coin—he needed to save that for his job later—he decided to practice absorbing the ambient cosmic energy on his own. He wanted to see how effective self-cultivation would be without the help of an artifact.

Four grueling hours later, the results were dismal.

His cultivation efficiency was worse than what he could achieve in just ten minutes with the Blade Coin.

He had poured all his effort into guiding and absorbing cosmic energy, only for his cultivation efficiency to plummet to 60%.

And in all that time, he hadn’t even gathered a hundred units of cosmic energy.

‘So this is the reality for ordinary cultivators… It’s way too difficult. Without artifacts, hiring a guide is absolutely necessary. Otherwise, progress is painfully slow.’

Despite this frustrating realization, Li Yi didn’t let it discourage him. Instead, he used it as an opportunity to refine his technique.

Whether it was guiding or absorbing cosmic energy, he repeated the process over and over, determined to ingrain it into his very instincts.

He had read online that some powerful cultivators had trained themselves to the point where cultivation became an automatic process. With this ability, they could cultivate twenty-four hours a day, steadily improving even while they slept.

And if there was one thing young people like Li Yi loved, it was progress.