Healing System

"Master Mujin!" Hu Rong called out, running up to Michael and cupping his hands.

"Where did you go? One moment you were with us, and the next you disappeared."

Michael rolled his eyes with a smile and replied, "I sensed a group in front, so I went to deal with them, but I ended up running into a few more."

"Ah! That makes sense, Master Mujin. Thank you!" Hu Rong bowed once again, causing Michael's eyebrows to twitch.

I really need to teach him my etiquette... this bowing after every single sentence is a bit much, he thought before turning straight toward the man he was supposed to be escorting.

"Gu Wan, I assume this mission is over?"

"Of course, Divine Physician Mujin. Here, take this." Gu Wan pulled out a wooden plaque from his robes and held it out to Michael.

"This is?"

"It's the mission completion notice. Once you take it to the mission clerk, the mission will be marked as complete," Gu Wan explained before taking out a pouch from his robes.

"Have this as well. I won't be needing money for a while—not while I'm with my... Just take it."

Michael wanted to give it back, but seeing the resolution on Gu Wan's face made him accept. "Thank you."

The two bid their farewells, with Hu Rong following Michael as they headed straight for the escort guild.

Along the way, quite a few glances were shot at them—some with curiosity, others with malice.

It didn't take a genius to see that Michael's name had spread—only those at least Tier 2 in strength looked at him with malice.

But with so many people around, they refrained from attacking—not that he'd have a problem dealing with them.

'What a strange world...' Michael couldn't help but think. It was so different from his previous one in all aspects.

This is not even that different—wait until you find a world where gravity does not exist, or something even more interesting.

'That's still a way off.'

Is it? While I do find time to pass a bit faster, so I might be wrong, but don't you think you could finish most things in this world in, what, five years?

Michael raised an eyebrow at the system's comment. 'You think I can reach the peak of this world in five years? Really?'

Well, once you settle down and begin training, your progress will be exponential—or so I think. But knowing you, you're going to slack off.

'...' He didn't even entertain the system's remark as he headed inside the escort guild. This branch, unlike the one he'd been to before, had no large estate—just a decently sized building housing the mission board and a couple of busy mission clerks.

Michael found someone who was free and immediately went over to him, handing him the plaque.

The mission clerk flipped it over a few times, writing the information down before saying, "I see the client has praised you a lot—good job. Give me a moment to finish the report, and I'll come back to you."

"Go ahead." Michael nodded and proceeded to find a seat nearby, waiting patiently for the mission clerk to finish jotting everything down.

But while he had this spare bit of time, he decided to get some information from none other than his disciple.

"Hu Rong, how strong would you say you are?"

"Master Mujin? I'm still a mere Disciple in the ways of the Dao. I still have a long way to go before I reach Adept..."

Michael nodded with a smile. "I see. How about the levels after that? When do you think you'll reach them?"

"I don't think I'll go higher than Adept. Expert is still doable, but Master, Grandmaster, and Ascendant are far beyond my reach."

'Since he is Tier 2, making him a disciple... There are seven Tiers in total? System?'n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Hmm... It looks like a mixed world—one that's on the verge of becoming a medium world, but not quite there yet. That makes it a bit more troublesome, but not exactly in a bad way.

Michael let out an irritated sigh as he continued, 'That doesn't sound great. How am I supposed to kill the leader of the Shadow Sect if he's at Tier 5 or 6? I'm screwed.'

Long-term goals—just focus on getting accustomed to this world for now.

'Yeah, whatever.' He turned his gaze back to his disciple and spoke,

"I see. Say, Hu Rong, do you know anything about the Shadow Sect?"

As Michael's words fell, both Hu Rong and the people who overheard him fell silent.

Even those in the far distance quieted down, the silence lasting for a few seconds.

It only lasted a moment before suddenly, all activities resumed as though nothing had happened.

"Master Mujin... you can't talk about them in the open like that," Hu Rong whispered.

"Why not?"

Continue reading on empire

"They have roots everywhere. If they find out someone is talking about them, they'll place a bounty on that person's head," he explained, looking around to make sure the area was safe.

'Place a bounty on my head, huh...' Michael chuckled inwardly before noticing the mission clerk signaling for them to come over.

"This is well done. I made sure to update your reputation—if someone comes around asking specifically for you, the escort guild will lead them your way," the mission clerk said with a bow before handing him a silver plaque.

"Have this as an identifier. You only become an official member after successfully completing your first mission. Congratulations!"

Michael accepted it and decided to step outside. He still had a few things he wanted to do before continuing his journey, and that included splurging on some gear.

From what he'd seen, the swords were of pretty decent quality, and if he wanted to fit in, it would be best to carry around a random sword—it'd be handy for sneak attacks.

Just a few minutes after leaving, he noticed a smithy in the corner of his vision. It wasn't a massive building, but the weapons displayed radiated mana.

If that was any indicator, it meant they were much better than the ones he had seen from the other martial artists.

With Hu Rong behind him, the two entered the smithy and saw a burly man hammering away at a crooked sword before throwing it to the side, nearly hitting them.

"Dud," his deep voice rang out as he began pouring more molten metal, shaping it once again into the form of a sword.

The vibrations emitted made Michael's hairs stand on end—not because the individual was strong but because he was really good at his craft.

As the hammering process continued, Michael noticed that the sword wasn't shaping itself normally. The amount of force the man was using had been consistent from the start.

But just as he was about to question it, he saw the sword begin to morph—the rough edges and uneven design slowly coming together as if by magic—until eventually, a perfectly crafted sword was formed.

And just like the others on display, it radiated mana.

"Success," the man remarked, putting down his hammer and glancing toward the two of them with an annoyed look.

'I guess I found the right guy for the job...'