The afternoon sun cast long, languid shadows across the grand entrance of Capital University, painting the asphalt in hues of amber and gold. It was that time of day when the academic world exhaled, spewing forth a tide of youthful energy, high fashion, and the palpable ambition of the city's elite. Parked silently amidst this bustling tableau was a sleek, black Mercedes E-Class, its polished surface reflecting the passing stream of students. The engine hummed with a barely audible vibration, a testament to German engineering, waiting patiently.Inside the driver’s seat sat Frank Yates. His hands rested lightly on the leather steering wheel, his expression unreadable, almost statuesque. He was a man accustomed to waiting. He was a man accustomed to silence.From the throng of students, a figure emerged that seemed to command the light itself. Wearing a pale violet dress that clung tastefully to her frame and fluttered in the gentle breeze, she was the definition of youthful beauty. Th

Frank Yates scrambled off the bed, his movements fueled by a frantic, primal urgency. He lunged for the bedroom door, his fingers fumbling with the lock until the bolt slid home with a reassuring click. He didn't stop there. He stumbled across the room, his limbs feeling foreign and heavy, like he was operating a machine with the calibration set wrong, and threw himself into the ensuite bathroom.The smell was the first thing that hit him—a rancid, cloying stench that seemed to emanate from his very soul. It was the smell of three years of stagnation, of swallowed insults, of dormant power rotting in the dark.He tore off his clothes, kicking them into the corner, and twisted the shower handle.A deluge of hot water cascaded over him. As the steam rose, filling the small tiled space with a suffocating mist, Frank Yates watched the water swirling around his feet. It ran black. Thick, viscous, tar-like sludge washed away from his skin, swirling down the drain. It was as if his body was

The air inside the flagship store of Cloud Cosmetics was thick enough to choke on, saturated with the cloying scent of expensive perfume and the acrid, metallic tang of panic. The high-end lighting, usually designed to make jewelry and skin glow, now seemed to cast harsh, interrogation-room shadows on the faces of the staff."Ms. Bailey, please, surely we can discuss this rationally..." Joan Foster’s voice trembled, her face draining of color until it matched the pristine white marble tiles of the showroom floor. Her usual sharp, imperious demeanor—the one she wielded like a weapon against her family—had dissolved, replaced by the desperate pleading of a woman watching her social standing teeter on the edge of a cliff."There is no room for discussion." The woman standing opposite her was a picture of icy fury. She raised a manicured wrist, glancing at a diamond-encrusted Patek Philippe watch that likely cost more than the average employee’s annual salary. "My time is extremely valuab

“I practice TCM, and while I do not currently hold a position at a major hospital, I am confident that I can cure your father’s illness.”Frank Yates withdrew his gaze from the elderly man gasping for air on the hospital bed and looked directly at Leo Bailey. His voice was calm, carrying the weight of absolute certainty, a stark contrast to the frantic beeping of the medical monitors.Leo Bailey’s brow furrowed, the lines of stress on his forehead deepening into canyons of skepticism. He looked at Frank—a young man in cheap, off-the-rack clothing—and then at the array of high-tech machinery surrounding his dying father.“TCM?” Leo repeated the acronym as if it were a dirty word, his tone dripping with incredulity. “Since when does a Traditional Chinese Medicine practitioner look like a college student? Tanya, surely you haven’t been swindled by this boy? Look at him. I have flown in Dr. Ross, one of the leadi

Frank Yates immediately closed his eyes, tuning out the physical world to focus inward. He directed his consciousness into his dantian and the meridians coursing through his body. Indeed, compared to the roaring river of power he had felt in the morning—a torrent that felt limitless—the current stream felt noticeably thinner, perhaps by a third. The depletion from healing Tanya's face and resurrecting Leo Bailey's father was real and significant.The mysterious voice on the phone seemed to anticipate Frank’s confirmation. It didn't wait for an answer."Conservation of energy is an immutable law of the universe," the raspy voice continued, lecturing him like a professor from hell. "The strange energy existing within your body is called Spirit Power. It is not infinite. Using it consumes it. Through cultivation, however, you can replenish and increase it.""How do I cultivate?" Frank asked urgently. That was the key. If this power ran out, he would be