Attribute Farming System

— Three weeks after the Eldest Son of the Falazar Count Family was banished, somewhere in the northern section of the Water Kingdom, at a busy tavern —

"Somehow, after the passing of hundreds of thousands of years, I still wound up drowning my sorrows in alcohol," Knox Falazar muttered with a sarcastically reminiscent tone. "Instead of being a good Young Master, I should've just opted for the position of Universe's #1 Alcoholic!"

*Glug, glug, glug!*

While Knox drowned out his sadness with good, old-fashioned liquor, the swinging doors of the tavern were suddenly whacked open. The loud noise produced by this action made the few dozen odd people in the tavern pause what they were doing to stare. Their expressions twisted in anger once they saw the newcomers walking past the smashed swinging doors.

However, upon noticing the venomous black dragon insignias stitched onto the robes of the newcomers, everyone immediately averted their glares. They acted as if they had heard nothing, seen nothing, and knew nothing.

The Ten Thousand Poisons Sect members were not existences they—as mere mortals or Body Refinement Realm Cultivators—could dream of messing with!

Then there was Knox Falazar…

"Which inconsiderate bastards is it this time!?" Knox asked in an irritated growl. "Do you have some sort of death wish— Oh, wait, it's just more of you guys. Also searching for death, are you?"

"Criminal Knox Falazar!" the head Ten Thousand Poisons Sect disciple said with a fierce look on his hood-shrouded face. "For attacking and killing over 100 sect members of the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect, you shall be sentenced to death!"

Under the suffocating aura of more than a dozen Foundation Establishment Realm Cultivators, Knox snickered. Then, no longer able to help himself, he roared with laughter.

"You—kill me?" he asked as if he had heard the biggest joke of the century. "How laughable!"

SHING!

"!!!" "!!!" "!!!"

A thin black sword hanging on Knox's waist vibrated. It flew out of its shadowy crimson sheath and cut through his uproarious laughter. Within an instant, it had pierced the necks of all 13 Foundation Establishment Realm Cultivators from the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect.

Blood splattered the walls red, and the bodies the blood belonged to collapsed to the ground with resounding thuds. The expressions of the corpses emulated one of the purest forms of fear—their eyes wide open and their arrogance non-existent.

"Ahhh! That man they called Knox Falazar—he killed the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect members!"

"How could anyone be so brazen to do something like that when the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect is so close by!?"

"This young man is fearless!!"

"Wait… Knox Falazar… Could it be…?? The famous Falazar Family?? The Count Family built upon the hard work of battle-hardened Military Generals!?? And is he… is he the Crippled Young Master famed for his incompetence!?"

"There's no way!"

As screams and useless yapping prevailed in the tavern, Knox yawned as all the recently dropped Attribute Orbs were pulled toward him. He nonchalantly sheathed his thin black sword back in its scabbard before looking over the incoming System Notifications.

*Ding~!*

[You have absorbed hundreds of Attribute Orbs dropped from slain Early and Mid-rank Foundation Establishment Realm Cultivators!]

[Strength increased by 7200 Points!] 

[Agility increased by 7400 Points!] 

[Endurance increased by 6800 Points!]

[Intelligence increased by 3700 Points!] 

[Mind increased by 2850 Points!] 

[Energy increased by 9000 Points!] 

[Affinity increased by 500 Points!] 

[Perception increased by 7120 Points!]

"Bummer," Knox lamented. "When I first began killing Early Foundation Establishment Realm Cultivators, I was receiving tens of thousands of Attribute points for each individual slain. Now, even after killing over a dozen Foundation Establishment Realm Cultivators—most of whom were in the Mid-Foundation Establishment Realm—I can't even break 10k acquisition for a single stat."

Doing some calculations, he predicted that it would take no longer than a couple more weeks for his gains to be reduced to the three-digit range for this type of trash.

"Hmm…" Knox pondered, completely zoning out the ramblings of the frightened cultivators around him. "Very soon, Core Formation and Golden Core Realm Cultivators of the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect will start coming after me. That is, assuming they follow the trend of sending out progressively stronger enemies after the weaker ones fail."

He had to admit, the World of Cultivation could be incredibly stupid at times. 

'I mean, seriously, if they had just had Golden Core or Nascent Soul Realm Cultivators hunt me from the get-go, I might actually be dead right now,' he thought. 'But nah, these guys are total idiots.'

"Welp," Knox said with a whimsical chuckle. "If they want to steadily make me stronger, then who am I to oppose their goodwill?"

OOOM!!

It was just then that he sensed an overwhelming presence flying in from the west. His ears perked up as he downed the rest of his liquor—as well as all the alcohol that the fellows sitting beside him were in the process of drinking. 

After his thirst was satiated, he uncaringly belched before tossing a few glowing iridescent stones at the bartender's head.

"Ouch! What was that for!?" the bartender groaned while rubbing his reddened forehead. That was when he noticed what had been thrown at him.

His face immediately paled. "These are…!?"

"Mid-grade Spirit Stones!!" a female bartender exclaimed while looking over her co-worker's shoulder. "Did he mean to do this, or!?"

"*Burp!* I'm too intoxicated to read what the prices are or what I gave you, so just take it!" Knox shouted while wobbling left and right, attempting to make his way to the exit. He stepped on a head, accidentally crushing it and popping out its eyeballs.

"Uhhh… did this belong to any of you?" he asked as he picked up an eyeball, his vision blurry as f*ck. "W…Well, whatever. Here, you can have it as a tip."

Knox wobbily tossed the eyeball at a random lady before ignoring her shrill shriek and hobbling through the broken swinging tavern doors. He may or may not have crunched a few bones of the Cultivator corpses on his way out, but none of that was his problem.