Chương 28: The Art of Fishing

"The seed is in Heaven Mystic City, capital of the Heaven Mystic Empire," Lillian said plainly.

"But getting it is no easy matter."

"Tell me."

"First, you have to reach Level 30 or higher," she explained.

"On top of that, you must clear more than half of all the Hell-difficulty trial dungeons in the Heaven Mystic Empire that are set below Level 30. Only then do you earn the token that qualifies you to travel to Heaven Mystic City—and only after passing one final trial there do you finally obtain the seed."

"…" Ryan's mouth twitched. Half the sub-30 trial dungeons meant clearing the trial dungeons set in over fifty tier-three main cities. And the crucial part—they all had to be on Hell difficulty. Each condition alone was brutal. Then again, it made sense. The Wish Tree Seed had never once been successfully cultivated; it was, at the end of the day, a thing of legend. Hand it to just anyone, and you'd wait until the end of time for it to sprout.

Ryan had his rich last-life experience, but that didn't mean he knew every dungeon's clear strategy by heart, so this remained no small challenge. There were four sub-30 trial dungeons per tier-three main city; by that count, just to earn the right to enter Heaven Mystic City, he'd have to conquer over two hundred Hell-difficulty dungeons. For him, an enormous undertaking, by any measure.

"Looks like it's out of reach for now." He smiled wryly. He was only Level 10; even clearing every Level 10 trial dungeon across every tier-three main city wouldn't qualify him for Heaven Mystic City.

"Take this. If you ever need help with anything, come find me." Lillian handed him a pass token for the City Lord's Manor, then added, "I have to keep handling things at the Class-Change Plaza these next few days, so I'll have to leave you for now."

"It's fine, go on."

"But remember to come visit me!" Lillian wrinkled her cute nose, her face faintly red.

"Don't worry, I will!" Ryan smiled, marveling inwardly all the while—this girl's bashful manner was a world apart from the War Goddess of his last life.

"Hahaha, my good daughter—I hear you've started bringing men home? Let your daddy have a look!" Just as Ryan made to take his leave, a hearty laugh boomed from beyond the door. It swung open, and a thick-browed, burly man in violet-gold war armor strode in. A killing aura rolled off him, and Ryan's brows knit slightly. Tempered by his last life, he could clearly tell—this was the unmistakable air of a man long seasoned by the battlefield.

[Garron Owen: Current Lord of Dragon Blood City, commander of the three thousand Dragon Blood Army, a true powerhouse. Level: 50]"So, girl—this the lad?" Owen's gaze fixed on Ryan, sharp as a blade. A timid man would have collapsed on the spot. But Ryan was different; under that piercing stare he stayed serene, not the slightest fear in him—and instead, his body turned slightly, unconsciously settling into a defensive counter-stance.

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"Ha, good lad! You pass the first test! Now let's try your skill!" Owen laughed, pleased.

"Don't fret—so you can't accuse me of bullying you, I'll use just one-tenth of my strength!" With that, Owen surged forward like a thunderclap and threw a punch. Hell, I haven't said a word and he's already swinging? Ryan's face darkened. He pulled back at once to dodge, and with the 10x movement speed, slipped clean past Owen's sure-handed blow.

"Interesting." Rather than stop, a glint kindled in Owen's eyes; he sped up and closed in, a fist the size of a clay pot sweeping in again. Is there no end to this? Ryan frowned. Owen was a Level 50 City Lord—by raw strength alone, the equal of at least a Level 50 Amethyst Boss. Even at one-tenth power, he wasn't someone Ryan could simply block.

"Daddy, stop! He's my friend!" Lillian's face went anxious, and she dashed in to plant herself between them.

"You little—" Owen frowned and forced his hand to a halt, shooting his daughter a displeased glare.

"I know full well the kid's your friend. Can't I just see whether he's got the makings?"

"Whether he's got the makings, I decide." Lillian was all stubbornness.

"Do you know how many times this is? I've gone years without a single close friend, cooped up all day with you lot of big rough men—I'm sick of it!"

"This… I'm only looking out for you."

"Hmph. If you really were, you'd stop attacking the friends at my side!" Lillian frowned.

"Lad, no offense, but a grown man hiding behind a woman—what kind of look is that? Have you got the nerve to come out and fight me one-on-one?" Unable to out-argue his daughter, Owen turned his aim on Ryan. His intent was simple—just to test what the kid was made of. Unlike when he'd dealt with the foppish young lords sniffing around his daughter with bad intentions, this was wholly different.

This was the Mystic Spirit Gate taking a disciple for the first time in a thousand years; before Master Lowe left, he'd even asked Owen to look after the new Mystic Spirit Disciple—so how could he strike to harm? At the bottom of it, he merely wanted to see what set apart this once-in-a-thousand-years Mystic Spirit Gate genius the world spoke of. He hadn't expected his daughter to misread him.

"My Lord, you and I have no quarrel. There's really no need for blows," Ryan answered, perfectly calm, unstirred by the provocation.

"Why fuss over it? I won't strike to harm—a friendly bout, blows pulled, and you don't dare? Or is it… you're afraid of looking foolish in front of my daughter? Don't tell me you actually fancy her?"

"Daddy, what nonsense are you spouting?!" Lillian's whole face flushed crimson; she lowered her head—though the corner of her eye stole a glance toward Ryan. Looks like this fight won't be avoided. Ryan smiled wryly, eyeing Owen's won't-quit posture with a touch of helplessness. So be it—then we fight. Only… he didn't do losing deals.

"My Lord, since you call it a bout, surely there ought to be a prize?" Ryan's eyes narrowed slightly.

"You'll fight at one-tenth strength. But if I should win by some fluke—how about you grant me a three-story shop with a courtyard on the central plaza?" Opening a shop was one of Ryan's fastest routes to money, and property prices in-game were every bit as steep as the real world's; pair that with the early-game gold shortage, and starting your own shop was harder than scaling heaven. He had the Mystic Spirit Token to spare him some trouble, but the steep gold cost was still beyond what he could shoulder.

So why not seize this bout to fish a fortune from empty hands?

"No." Owen frowned and refused flatly.

"That would do Dragon Blood City's healthy commercial competition no good!"

"Oh? Worried about handing over a shop before we've even fought?" Ryan smiled, turning the other's tactic back on him—goading for goading.

"Don't tell me you think that, at one-tenth strength, you're bound to lose to me? If that's truly the case, then this bout needn't happen at all." Sure enough, the words sent Owen's lungs near to bursting. Me, lose? Out of the question!

"Fine. I accept!" Owen's face sank. The corner of Ryan's mouth curled. The fish has taken the bait at last.