Chương 19: Drunken Fist Account Ban

While Yang Fan was checking his game panel, Ying Yao ignored this new disciple of his and just focused on drinking. Yang Fan guessed that his master was just that type of person, and that he would have to ask about everything himself. So he asked, "Master, where exactly is the main force of our Ying family?" Ying Yao's fingers traced the edge of his wine gourd as he spoke.

"The direct bloodline of the Ying family has carried a strange curse for generations, suffering the deepest erosion from its power. Apart from your grandmaster, the First Generation Metal Chief, all the direct descendants have fallen over the ages. I was adopted and trained by your grandmaster back then. Though I inherited the Ying family's legacy and carry the same curse, I am fortunate to have a special constitution that prevents the curse from harming me at its root."

Ying Yao tilted his head slightly and glanced at Yang Fan, his tone lazy and casual.

"We are actually quite similar in that regard. Both of us have special constitutions, and the curse on us comes from the same source. It does little harm to the body, but it prevents us from using powerful magical weapons." Yang Fan was stunned.

"Are you joking? A family that produced someone as extraordinary as the First Generation Metal Chief, and now there are only two of us left?" Ying Yao raised his head and took a small sip of the strong wine, letting the fiery liquid slide down his throat. His expression remained unchanged as he continued slowly.

"That is not entirely true either. Back then, to preserve their lineage, the Ying family split off a branch and sent them far away from the conflicts. They settled in the most remote and peaceful Peach Blossom Village, where they managed to survive and keep the bloodline alive."

"Peach Blossom Village?" Yang Fan was dumbfounded, a mix of emotions flooding his mind. That place was his starting village. Images flashed through his head: the remote village, the simple and powerless villagers who could not even fight off a level 1 wolf cub. When monsters appeared, they could only scatter and hide. The only person in the village who could even hold a conversation was the chief, and all he ever did was make empty promises and talk big. A wave of frustration and disbelief washed over Yang Fan.

He had thought that delivering the bronze armguards and joining Ying Yao's school would give him a powerful backer with deep temple connections and an ancient family legacy. He had imagined a smooth path through the game with no one daring to challenge him. But in the end, the so-called family legacy and remaining forces were just a bunch of ordinary villagers and a chief who could only talk. His expectations had come crashing down.

But then he reminded himself that this was still a game, and there had to be a logic to it. The developers would not just mess with players for no reason. He calmed his thoughts and began to realize that things were not as simple as they seemed. His master, this seemingly destitute drunkard, was the personal disciple of the First Generation Metal Chief and a temple master burdened with a curse. He was definitely hiding countless secrets and withholding key information.

Yang Fan was about to press further, to dig deeper into the Ying family's curse, the First Generation Metal Chief, and the temple's secrets, but Ying Yao had clearly lost patience. He pulled the stopper from his gourd, stopped sipping, and tipped it back, draining the strong wine in one go. With the empty gourd put away, Ying Yao's eyes grew slightly blurred, a flush of intoxication coloring his cheeks. His entire body relaxed, and his stance shifted.

His steps appeared unsteady and staggering, swaying left and right like a drunkard who could barely stand. It looked chaotic and random, but beneath the surface, his movements followed an intricate footwork pattern. Every sway, every shift carried the rhythm of heaven and earth and the essence of martial arts. This was drunkenness, and it was also martial arts. His shoulders relaxed and dropped, his back slightly curved, his body swaying from side to side.

He looked weak and deeply intoxicated, but his fingers, elbows, wrists, shoulders, hips, knees, and feet all moved in perfect harmony. His wrists turned casually, his fists lifting lightly in a loose, soft motion, as if a drunkard were simply waving his arms without any force. Then his hips twisted, his feet stumbled forward, his body dropped low, and his shoulders and elbows drove forward with a combination of hardness and softness, of substance and emptiness.

The entire sequence flowed like water, natural and complete, steeped in drunkenness without a trace of aggression. As he moved, the air around him vibrated faintly, and invisible energy circulated. Finally, Ying Yao raised his hand casually and threw a punch forward, light and effortless. There was no earth-shattering power, no blinding light, no sharp sound of breaking air. It was just an ordinary punch, a shadowy fist that appeared out of nowhere, moving at incredible speed without a sound.

And that punch was aimed directly at Yang Fan's position. Yang Fan did not even have time to see the trajectory or react. His vision went black, his mind went blank, and all perception was stripped away. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. [System Notification: You have been struck by an unknown high-level attack. A forced account ban has been triggered. You have been forcibly logged out. Please wait four hours before reconnecting to the game.] The cold, mechanical system prompt flashed through his mind and vanished. The screen went black, and Yang Fan's game vision disappeared entirely. In his real-world room, Yang Fan removed the game helmet and lay back heavily on his bed, staring blankly at the white ceiling. His mind was still reeling from the shock. He finally understood why the tavern keeper had given him that strange, pitying look back in the prefecture town. Ying Yao must have gone on drunken rampages often, lashing out at people.

The neighbors and tavern staff had likely suffered his random punches for years, but with his powerful background and martial prowess, no one dared to say a word. What truly shook him to his core was the realization that a game NPC had the power to forcibly ban a player's account and log them out against their will. In any normal game, no matter how powerful an NPC was, they could only attack and kill players within the game's rules.

They could never interfere with a player's login privileges or manipulate the game's system. But Ying Yao's casual drunken punch had broken the game's rules and locked him out. Lying on his bed, Yang Fan was consumed with questions and shock. What was going on with this game's underlying design? If he could learn this drunken fist technique from his master and master the ability to ban players, he would be unstoppable.

He could punch anyone who annoyed him and force them offline, lock their accounts, or even permanently ban them. He would be truly invincible. With that thought, all his frustration and disappointment vanished. He sat up, his eyes burning with renewed determination. He now understood that his master's school was not as weak as it appeared. The curse, the decline, it was all a facade. Its true power was terrifying and far beyond imagination.

The First Generation Metal Chief was the founder of the White Tiger Temple and a top-tier powerhouse. His master Ying Yao possessed forbidden techniques and system-level authority. Both were genuine top-tier figures. In the future, whenever he ran into trouble or faced powerful enemies, he could simply drop their names and intimidate anyone, even temple officials and imperial officers. Had not the Divine Minister, a high-ranking figure, been shaken and unnerved just by hearing that the Metal Chief was still alive?

And the Ying family branch in Peach Blossom Village could not be as weak and useless as it seemed. There had to be hidden martial techniques or rare treasures passed down from their ancestors. As the only direct descendant of the Ying family and the sole disciple of the school, he was essentially the young master of the family. Next time he logged in, he would head straight to Peach Blossom Village and demand ancestral techniques from the chief.

He also needed to study the Tianyin Sword's second special effect, "Somewhat Sharp," and figure out what it really did. After sorting through his thoughts, Yang Fan felt a wave of clarity wash over him. A knowing smile spread across his face. The true way to play this game was not mindless grinding and PvP. The real path to power lay in connections, backing, and legacy. And now, he had people above him. His path ahead was clear and full of promise.

It was just like real life, networking was the key to advancement, and a letter of recommendation could open doors to schools. Yang Fan sat up on his bed, turned on his computer, and opened the game's official forum. He had four hours to kill before he could log back in. Instead of wasting time, he would read guides and learn the game's mechanics to prepare for the next phase of leveling. As he opened the forum's front page, it was flooded with posts from two of the China server's top guilds.

The Divine Sword Guild and the Iron Blood Gate were long-time rivals. The front page was filled with their members insulting, mocking, and dragging each other. Every post had thousands of replies, with core members of both sides trading blows, smaller guilds fanning the flames, and countless spectators joining in the chaos. In the past, Yang Fan would have jumped right in, taking sides and enjoying the drama. But today, he had no interest at all. With his master's legacy, his perspective had shifted.

His future was bright, and he had no need to seek cheap thrills from online arguments. He scrolled past the endless flame wars and finally found a proper strategy guide. The post was straightforward, analyzing the massive gap between level 10 and level 11, with a detailed comparison of their base stats.

The post clearly listed: [Level 10 Base Stats] Spirit: 10 Constitution: 10 Agility: 10 Physical Attack: 10 Magic Attack: 10 HP: 100 [Level 11 Base Stats] Spirit: 110 Constitution: 110 Agility: 110 Physical Attack: 110 Magic Attack: 110 HP: 1100 From level 10 to 11, every base stat jumped by a hundred points. HP shot up from 100 to 1100, a tenfold increase.

"That is insane," Yang Fan exclaimed.

"A level 11 player could one-shot a level 10 player." Equipment was secondary. Level was everything. At the end of the post, the author complained that after reaching level 11, killing level 10 monsters only gave 1 experience point, and there were no level 11 or higher monsters to be found. He had even called the game company to ask, but the staff knew nothing and said players would have to figure things out for themselves. The company only provided the platform. What a joke.

He had never seen a game company like this. Yang Fan found it strange too. Over the past few days, the highest-level monsters he had encountered were level 10, aside from the unreadable NPCs. He did not dwell on it too much. He would worry about it once he hit level 11.