The Actor's Emperor System

Chapter 6: Not Closed is Open?

“Man, you really can’t beat the cheat code!”

Once Caleb Davis figured out his bizarre new reality—that the Film and Television Martial Emperor System was just going to casually patch the whole "die instantly" flaw of the Shaolin Innate Skill, letting him cultivate endlessly without risk—he sighed. A deep, lung-clearing, genuinely relieved sigh. All that crazy paranoia? Gone. Done.

He instantly threw all those doubts aside and dropped into the deepest focus, plunging himself into a relentless, grueling practice session.

He might have lacked a famous master or even a single day’s actual martial arts foundation, but honestly? Who cared? Armed with the vivid, complete memory of 'Colt Cooper'—the life of the actual historical eunuch he was playing—Caleb perfected every single stance and movement. He wasn't guessing; he was recalling.

His progress surged like a freaking torrent.

Only about four hours had passed when a sharp, unmistakable digital chime sliced right through his concentration.

【PROMOTION】 【Shaolin Innate Skill "Unrated" (9/10) → Shaolin Innate Skill "Basic Mastery" (0/100)】

As the success notification materialized in the corner of his vision, the whole world around Caleb dissolved. He wasn't in the quiet city park anymore.

He was suddenly standing on a cold, muddy street.

In that old era, children born into war and chaos were treated worse than stray dogs. They just wandered, scrapping brutally over any scrap of food they could find. The one named 'Dog' was no different. He belonged to the muck and the filth, wallowing in mud mixed with the worst stuff you can imagine.

Then, the People arrived.

A small group passed through his remote, forgotten village. It was the first time the dog truly registered the difference. People had two arms and two feet, just like him, but they rode in ornate carriages, draped in rich silks, and tasted only the finest delicacies. The Dog was meant for the gutter.

But a single, burning thought—corrosive and sharp—started growing in its tiny heart: I need to be human.

The dog stalked the group. It faced peril after peril, moments where it should have died a dozen times over, but the sheer, unwavering obsession fueled its steps from the countryside all the way to the blinding, magnificent light of the Imperial City.

His wish was granted.

The next day, unfamiliar men found him, demanding his essence. The dog struggled—of course he did—but the terrifying promise—You will become a person—forced him into submission.

Moments later, the dog stood in a magnificent, gold-tiled hall. Sitting there was the First Person the dog had ever seen. The man gave him things, spoke many words, but the memory that burned brightest was the name he received: Colt Cooper.

The dog became a man.

To preserve that precious new identity, Colt Cooper served the so-called 'Emperor' and the 'Consorts' with meticulous, anxious diligence. In his rare downtime, he fanatically cultivated the martial methods given to him. Yet, the old, feral impulse remained. He often found perverse pleasure in teasing the consorts. But with the First Person shielding the Dog, Colt Cooper remained untouchable, his arrogance swelling to an unprecedented height. When he grew bored of the palace women, his predatory gaze naturally began to fall outside the Imperial Walls.

“Hah—”

Caleb shot up, gasping, the phantom memory shattering around him like glass. He stared, eyes wide and uncertain, at the completely familiar trees of the park.

Recalling the vision left him stunned.

“A fugue state? Did breaking a martial arts bottleneck just trigger a psycho-trauma dump?” he muttered, shaking his head. It was ludicrous.

He’d seen Colt Cooper's memory once, but that first time was just a technical download—a data file. What he had just experienced was the interpreted, terrifying history: a primal, visceral understanding of Colt Cooper’s dark life that completely transformed the character in his mind.

He quickly tossed the shock aside, distracted by an undeniable change in his body.

The moment the Shaolin Innate Skill hit Basic Mastery, a deep, comforting warm current surged into his system, appearing with his very breath. It raced along his limbs and meridians, instantly repairing the internal strain.

In just a few breaths, the exhaustion that had weighed down his sweat-soaked body vanished. His ragged breathing smoothed right out, and that crippling muscle soreness disappeared. Just like that.

Better yet, the warm current didn't go away. It coalesced into a dense, circulating knot right in his lower abdomen. Caleb could feel the nascent energy, ready to be summoned at a moment’s notice.

“Wait, what the hell is this?!”

The words Internal Energy slammed into his brain. He knew what Internal Energy was—it’s standard background for every cheesy Martial Arts script—but seriously? He had been doing calisthenics a minute ago!

“No way, I only just started! I skipped refining skin, strengthening bones, and all that cultivation nonsense?” Caleb stammered, his sudden good fortune making him suspicious. “System, is this actually stable?”

The System, ever silent and unhelpful in dialogue, offered no spoken answer.

Just a silent, supremely authoritative prompt.

【PROMOTION】 【Congratulations to the user for being promoted to Third-Rate Martial Artist】

“Well, I guess that’s an affirmation,” Caleb conceded. His previous Realm had been None. Mastering Internal Energy and being immediately certified as a Third-Rate Martial Artist had to be the System confirming his cheat was working flawlessly. You know, just in case he was still worried.

Caleb intended to practice more, but then his stomach loudly, aggressively rumbled. Having no choice, he had to temporarily shelve his cultivation. He found a little shop, ordered a massive plate of braised pork knuckle rice—the good stuff—found a corner, and dug in.

While eating, he pondered his new Internal Energy. It was thin and weak, mind you; he definitely wasn't going to be shooting beams or flying with a sword yet. But it proved immediately useful. He could direct the flow to condition his body, completely soothing the residual muscle soreness from the initial high-intensity training. The Shaolin Innate Skill itself, aside from granting the force, felt only slightly more refined. No big structural changes.

“Honestly, this is great,” he decided.

The Internal Energy’s ability to repair muscle damage was a literal lifeline. Without it, the high-exertion Shaolin Innate Skill would require him to rest every other day to avoid serious injury. But now?

“Looks like practicing every day isn’t just possible—it’s the new normal. Time to grind!”

Refreshed and fueled, Caleb paid the bill—a quick phone scan—and immediately headed back to the small, secluded park for an all-night session.

---

The Bitch

Eleven o’clock at night.

The Helena Madison Villa District.

“Bang!”

The slam of the villa door sounded like a shot, echoing through the expensive complex.

Brandon Smith stood outside the door, his face a contorted mask of pure, ugly resentment. He had been groveling all day, bribing Helena Madison with a significant portion of his professional resources, just to keep her from filing for divorce.

She had finally agreed to drop the filing. He thought he’d won.

Instead, Helena had declared their marriage a total sham and presented three crippling agreements: he was forbidden to touch her, forbidden to question her affairs, and explicitly banned from cohabiting in the villa.

The thought of those restrictions—stripped of his husband's privileges and publicly neutered—made his jaw ache with white-hot fury.

Brandon Smith was a complete second-generation star, born into a silver spoon. The biggest "hardship" he'd ever faced was probably a lukewarm latte. He had never been humiliated like this.

Worse, he was utterly helpless. His career was peaking, and the cheating scandal was already a public disaster. If Helena Madison actually pulled the trigger on the divorce, his career in the mainland would just… poof. Gone. Even his father’s powerful connections wouldn't save him from the audience’s scorn.

“She’s exploiting my weakness! She’s basically holding my career for ransom!” he hissed, his black eyes blazing in the dark.

“That bitch! That absolute, scheming bitch!”

---

(End of Chapter)