2025-11-14 16:56:18That miserable Attention Value—just over two hundred points. You saw the steep price for the next two skills, right? Caleb Davis did, and he quickly slammed the System panel shut. Out of sight, out of mind. Simple strategy.
But that broken, humiliating reality stung him. It absolutely fueled him. He took all that bitter ambition and just poured it into his practice. Head down, all in.
He trained for three days straight. No breaks.
Caleb’s relentless effort paid off, big time. The Shaolin Innate Skill surged, promoting its proficiency from "Basic Mastery" to "Minor Accomplishment" (16/500).
The breakthrough brought another quick glimpse into 'Colt Cooper's' memory, the same as last time. This one was actually pretty boring: just the Eunuch grinding through repetitive, focused routines. Pure technique. Zero drama.
The real win, though, was the power boost. Holy cow.
His Internal Energy
was the primary beneficiary. It used to be this barely-there thread. Now? It had solidified into a dense sphere, roughly the size of a pigeon’s egg. Yeah, a pigeon's egg.This meant his Internal Energy wasn't just some health tonic anymore. It was a combat tool. Sure, he still couldn't shoot energy beams—this isn't Dragon Ball—but he could circulate the force around his body. Offensively, he could channel it on impact for that terrifying, invisible internal damage. Defensively, it worked like an innate shield, softening blows.
Honestly, with this power, Caleb was basically unmatched in hand-to-hand combat. No weapons needed. Nobody on Earth could touch him.
The only issue? The drain. The consumption rate was staggering. Go all-out, and that pigeon's egg of power would be gone in less than a minute. Then you're waiting an hour, maybe more, to refill. In RPG terms, he was a total glass cannon: high-burst, high-energy-cost warrior.
"It's enough," Caleb muttered to himself, flexing his fist and feeling the satisfying, taut power in his gut. He wasn't some hitman or MMA fighter. He was an actor. When was he ever going to need sustained Internal Energy in his pathetic little life? A short energy bar? Totally fine.
He checked his phone: 8:00 AM.
The Group Leader had sent a warning: The Legend of the Martial World series was kicking off its commencement ceremony at nine. Attendance is mandatory for all cast members.
Caleb hustled. Quick shower, clothes change, and he was out the door.
This online drama was serious, packing a huge eight-million-dollar budget—massive for their market. So naturally, the ceremony was a huge, pretentious spectacle. They’d invited a circus of reporters, and the whole thing was an over-the-top ritual. Burning incense, worshipping gods, even draping expensive cameras in red cloth to ward off "evil spirits." Seriously.
Caleb, of course, had nothing to do with any of it. He was a nobody—a background Eunuch, paid to fill a seat.
Standing way off to the side, watching the main stars laugh and promise box-office glory on stage, the bitter, familiar soundtrack started playing in his head: the cynical lyrics of that Austin Clay song.
“That year I was eighteen, at the school dance, standing like an extra.”
“I swore then that everyone seated here must see me.”
The song finished. He zoned out for a little longer, waiting for the ceremony—which felt as long and tedious as a senator’s speech—to finally wrap up.
He slipped away from the main crowd, found a quiet, hidden corner, and lit a cigarette. He'd just taken his first deep puff when a voice broke the silence.
"Oh, smoking already?"
It was The Group Leader.
Caleb pulled out a premium Silver Star cigarette and offered it. The Group Leader accepted, squatted down next to him, and asked with a heavy drag, "First time at one of these things? What'd you think?"
"Not as engaging as O-God," Caleb deadpanned.
The Group Leader stopped, then let out a laugh. "You little jerk. Just say it was boring! Why you gotta bring up games?"
"It genuinely was dull," Caleb confirmed. He looked at the Group Leader. "Ceremony's done. When do we actually start shooting?"
"In a few hours, maybe." The Group Leader shrugged. He couldn't commit; he wasn't the director.
"You got your lines down, right? You comfortable with the script?"
Caleb nodded. "Memorised cold. Don't worry. Zero issues."
"Good." The Group Leader looked relieved. If Caleb, his guy, screwed up, the blame would roll downhill.
They finished their cigarettes, and the Group Leader took off to handle whatever minor emergency was brewing.
Caleb, realising he had some quiet time, figured, why not? He settled back into his corner and began practicing his martial arts forms.
"Hey, are you... a martial artist? Is that Traditional Martial Arts, or just regular street fighting?"
A deep, questioning voice broke his focus.
Caleb looked up. A burly guy with dark skin was standing there, staring at him with intense curiosity.
Caleb frowned. "Who are you?"
"My bad. I'm James Jaxon, the martial arts choreographer for Legend of the Martial World."
Caleb's eyes widened slightly. "Ah, Brother Jaxon. Caleb Davis, playing 'Colt Cooper.' You need something?"
"Nah, I was just passing by. Got curious. Little Brother Caleb, what you were just doing—that's Traditional Martial Arts, isn't it?" James Jaxon looked absolutely fascinated.
Caleb felt confused. "Traditional Martial Arts?"
"Yeah, Traditional Martial Arts!" James Jaxon clarified.
Caleb frowned again. Why was he so specific? Just ask if I'm practicing martial arts. "Yes, it is. Why?"
"Why? Because it's incredible to see the real thing! Honestly, there aren't many genuine Traditional Martial practitioners left anymore," James Jaxon said with a wry smile.
Caleb's frown deepened. Wait, what? Why would the choreographer be so shocked? Weren't all those huge action stars practitioners? "What do you mean?"
James Jaxon replied instinctively, "I mean exactly what I said." Then, a strange look crossed his face. "Brother Caleb, you can't possibly be unaware of the current situation for the Traditional Martial Arts, can you?"
Caleb just shook his head. Four days. That's how long he’d had power. Four days spent almost entirely on training. He knew absolutely nothing about the actual martial arts community.
James Jaxon was instantly amused. A genuine heir to a powerful, ancient art who was completely clueless about its status. That kind of irony was rarer than a unicorn.
He found a nearby step, settled in, and prepared to give Caleb the full, depressing breakdown of the Traditional Martial Arts world.
(End of Chapter)
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Chapter 47: The Miracle Worker’s F*e
"Director Finch? You still with us?"Caleb Davis watched the man. Graham Finch looked like he’d just seen a ghost—or maybe he was just rebooting. After a full minute of zero response, Caleb Davis gave up on being polite and started waving a hand right in front of the director's nose."Earth to Graham Finch. Anyone home?"The director blinked, the fog finally lifting. He looked at Caleb Davis with this weird mix of total awe and genuine terror. "What... what was that?"Caleb Davis just sighed. "Like I said, the original moves are a pipe dream. Unless you want a cast of contortionists who can pop their joints on command, we have a problem. So, what’s the plan?""We change it. Every bit of it!" Finch snapped out of it, his voice suddenly sharp.After watching Caleb Davis dismantle his own anatomy like a broken clock just to prove a point, the director wasn't in the mood to argue. Whatever Caleb Davis said was basically law now. The doubt was gone, replaced by this hungry, desperate kind
Chapter 46: Are You Guys Summoning an Old God?
The air on the set was so thick with tension you could practically choke on it.Director Graham Finch was pacing around like a caged lion, his chest heaving. He wasn't just annoyed anymore; he’d gone full-blown nuclear."Are you all brain-dead? Seriously? Pig brains, the lot of you!" he roared, his voice bouncing off the studio rafters. "Tell me, how many times have we had to cut because of these three moves? Twelve? Twenty?"Then came a string of Cantonese curses so creative and foul they could have stripped the paint off the equipment trailers."You call yourselves stars? You’ve got the guts to stand in front of my lens when you can't even control your own arms and legs? Get out! Go back to the country and herd pigs. At least pigs know how to follow a lead!"By the fifteenth retake, the Director’s legendary cool was ancient history. Every time he opened his mouth, he wasn't just talking—he was breathing fire.The actors, John Sterling and Chris Jaxon, stood there like statues in a f
Chapter 45: This is Premium Content—You’ll Have to Pay Extra!
Aristotle once said that human history is basically just one long history of war.Think about it. The second those scrawny prehistoric primates figured out they could lash a sharp stone to a stick and kill things ten times their size, the game was over. Humanity’s rise wasn't a question anymore—it was a done deal. And since that first spark of violence, we’ve never really stopped finding better ways to do each other in.From all that fighting, four legendary types of weapons eventually took over.First, you’ve got the Staff. It’s the foundation for everything else, a total shapeshifter—long, short, thick, thin, you name it. It’s basically the "Ancestor" of weapons.Then there’s the Spear. Its whole vibe is that an extra inch of length equals an extra inch of power, letting the weak take down the strong. It's the "King" of the battlefield.Next up is the Saber. This thing is all about raw, domineering power. You don't negotiate with a saber; you just crush whatever's in front of you. I
Chapter 44: Are You Actually a Eunuch?!
It was 7:00 PM when Graham Finch finally stumbled back into his hotel room. Honestly, he felt like he’d been hit by a truck. He dragged his weary bones inside, feeling every bit of his age—the kind of exhaustion that makes you realize you just aren't as young as you used to be.A few years back, the guy didn't even know what "finishing early" meant. Back then, he’d wrap a full day of shooting and dive straight into night scenes without blinking. He’d be wide awake until 2:00 AM, maybe giving some "private acting tips" to a lead actress, and only then would he catch some Zs. But today? Just sitting in the director’s chair for ten hours had left his back aching and his spirit feeling like a squeezed-out lemon."Man... I’m getting brittle," he muttered. He took a sip of some crazy-hot "Five-Treasure" herbal tea, which immediately fogged up his glasses.He slumped into his desk chair, adjusted his frames, and started the mind-numbing task of importing footage. The clock was ticking. It wa
Chapter 43: A Warrior Isn’t Scary, Until He’s Educated
Nobody saw this coming. One second, it was just a weird, cringey scene in the mall, and the next, it had spiraled into a total nightmare.The crowd just froze. You know that feeling when your brain can't quite process that something violent is actually happening? That was everyone watching this guy lunge at Lady Lorna, his jagged little dagger catching the nasty glare of the mall’s fluorescent lights. He was maybe five meters away—close enough to bridge the gap in about two seconds. To anyone watching, it felt like the blade was already halfway to her chest."Ah!!!"A few people screamed, and a lot more just covered their eyes, not wanting to see the "inevitable." There were a few guys who looked like they wanted to jump in, but they were just too far away. Their hearts were in the right place, sure, but their feet were way too slow.It’s over, everyone thought at the same time.But then, a voice—totally cool, calm, and honestly sounding a bit bored—sliced right through the panic."Ex
Chapter 42: The Crazed Fan
Once the high-flying wirework was out of the way, the schedule finally moved into the "grounded" phase. On paper, it sounded easy enough: just two warriors clashing on a rickety wooden scaffold. But in the world of big-budget movies, "simple" is a relative term. The reality was anything but relaxed.Caleb Davis and Tom Jaxon handled it like pros, moving with the grace of actual predators. I mean, you’ve got one guy who’s a genuine martial artist with years of discipline and another who’s a former martial art champ. For them, the choreography wasn't just moves to memorize; it was a second language.The real headache, though, was Jenny Nicole.She’s a veteran of those delicate art-house films and intense palace dramas—a total master of the subtle look and the heartbreaking monologue. But a heavy blade? Not so much. Standing there between Caleb Davis and Tom Jaxon, her lack of "warrior vibes" was pretty glaring. Honestly, she looked like a confused Husky that had accidentally wandered in
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