Volume One: First Signs of Brilliance Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Virtual Combat Chamber

That afternoon, after Lan Yiyi finished processing all the star beast carcasses she had brought back, she immediately transferred Wang Jue's payment to him. For some unknown reason, the payment Lan Yiyi deposited into Wang Jue's account was not the previously agreed five thousand, but fifty thousand—ten times as much.

However, Wang Jue had no idea about this at all. After returning home, he hadn’t even had time to shower before collapsing onto his bed and falling asleep...

...

It was not until noon the next day that Wang Jue finally woke up, feeling refreshed. He picked up his phone from the bedside table, intending to check the time, but instead found a bank notification and a message from Lan Yiyi.

Seeing the first notification, Wang Jue immediately deduced that Lan Yiyi had transferred his payment—after all, very few people knew his bank account number, and she was one of them.

He didn’t bother to check the amount she had sent, but instead opened her message. In it, Lan Yiyi explained that, due to the authorities' new support for martial arts, the local Martial Association branch had just received a set of "virtual combat" equipment from headquarters. Supposedly, it allowed one’s consciousness to enter for training, though she didn’t elaborate on the specifics—only that it would suit Wang Jue and urging him not to miss the opportunity.

Wang Jue was lost in thought as he read the message. Deep down, he was well aware that after accompanying Lan Yiyi and the others on the hunt, he had come to realize just how lacking his real combat experience was. Although his current level wasn’t low for his age, he was far from the top, but in terms of strength, he could still look down on his peers on the island.

He had little interest in competing with peers, not out of arrogance, but simply because those he’d interacted with recently were all at higher levels—Yun Ling and Orange Star—so his horizons had expanded.

After some consideration, Wang Jue decided to visit the Martial Association. The headmaster had already told him he could decide for himself whether to attend elementary school. In Wang Jue’s view, it was a waste of time to sit through lessons on things he already knew; it would be far better to take advantage of the Martial Association.

Soon after, Wang Jue took a ride to the Martial Association. The moment he stepped inside, he found that the place was packed, with opportunities for experience everywhere, making his eyes light up.

Spending about an hour, he swept through the four training halls, collecting a total of over four hundred thousand experience points—an average of a hundred thousand from each hall. Satisfied, Wang Jue did not forget the real reason he had come. He went to the front desk to ask one of the attendants, learning that the Martial Association had indeed opened a new virtual combat room, though the fees were rather high.

One hour of training inside cost ten thousand, and as soon as the time was up, you would be automatically logged out.

Highly interested, Wang Jue immediately paid the ten thousand fee, eager to see if the virtual combat room could truly improve his combat skills.

The attendant then led him to a large hall. Following her, Wang Jue was immediately intrigued by what he saw inside. He had expected the virtual training room to be busy, but had not imagined it would be this crowded.

To his surprise, the hall was filled with people sitting cross-legged on the ground, each wearing a helmet, all surrounded by domes of light.

Curious, Wang Jue examined the domes and asked the attendant, "Excuse me, what are these domes around them?"

She smiled and explained, "These are isolation shields, or you could call them protection domes. They block outside noise and also keep the users safe. Once you put on the helmet, the dome activates, and your consciousness enters—in essence, it’s like stepping into a vivid dream."

Knowing it was his first time, the attendant—perhaps finding Wang Jue likable—offered a friendly reminder: "If you die in the dream, you’ll revive immediately, but try not to die too often. Otherwise, you’ll feel terrible when you come out."

Just then, someone’s session ended. The attendant led Wang Jue to the now-vacant spot. After he put on the helmet and sat down, she pressed the activation button on the side.

In the next instant, a dome of light enveloped Wang Jue. He felt a sudden blur, and the surroundings began to shift, as though he had entered an isolated world.

Wang Jue looked around with curiosity. The sky was a hazy gray, as if shrouded in smog; the ground was made of mist, and there were no plants or sounds—a distinctly surreal atmosphere. Surveying the area, he saw none of the others from the real-world hall; it felt as if he alone existed in this world.

After about a minute, a phantom figure appeared before him. Sword in hand, the figure looked exactly like Wang Jue, even sharing his cultivation level.

As this "counterfeit" appeared, Wang Jue was surprised to find a sword had materialized in his own hand.

The phantom wasted no time—without giving Wang Jue a moment to react, it immediately attacked, catching him off guard.

Seeing the sword thrusting straight at his throat, Wang Jue had no choice but to quickly raise his own blade to block.

Clang, clang, clang—the opponent's sword was like a storm, each strike aimed precisely at Wang Jue's vital points. No matter how he tried to dodge, the enemy seemed able to anticipate his every move, making Wang Jue feel utterly frustrated.

His lack of real combat experience was showing; now, being forced onto the defensive from the outset, he could do little but block.

He didn’t last many moves before the opponent’s blade found his abdomen.

Instinctively clutching at the wound, Wang Jue realized he wasn’t actually hurt—the same as the illusion before him, he was a phantom in this space.

No injuries? Discovering this, Wang Jue finally let loose. Without hesitation, he launched his own attack.

Yet to his annoyance, every time his sword struck at the copy, the other would easily block. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t land a hit.

Worse, his lack of combat experience left openings for his opponent, who would seize the chance to turn defense into attack, easily striking his vital points.

It wasn’t a gap in strength, but in experience.

Even though both wielded the same techniques, the phantom could easily defend, find his weaknesses, and counterattack.

No matter how much it galled him, Wang Jue had to admit he was little more than a paper tiger, while his opponent was a seasoned master. Before the other, he was nothing but a clown.

Perhaps because he was constantly on the receiving end, Wang Jue decided to abandon close combat altogether, putting distance between them and launching ranged attacks.

Sword beams laced with star energy shot toward the doppelganger like bolts of lightning.

But the copy did not retaliate, merely moving deftly to avoid each attack, so that most missed entirely; those that did come close were easily dodged.

The next instant, the clone—having evaded all of Wang Jue’s attacks—launched a counteroffensive.

Seeing the assault coming, Wang Jue employed his subtle footwork to dodge and parry, but to his dismay, the opponent’s strikes—though no more powerful than his own—always seemed to find his vital points, no matter how he moved. It was as though he were a moving target, unable to escape.

What vexed him further was that his own sword beams, though strong, were chaotic and easily dodged; the moment the opponent shifted, most of his attacks would fly wide.

Same cultivation, same martial skills, but a gulf in combat experience made all the difference.

At last, Wang Jue realized he had no grounds for arrogance. This lesson had shown him that in both melee and ranged combat, his real battle ability could only be described as "pathetic."

Thankfully, in this virtual space, he could fight without fear of injury; otherwise, in real life, he’d have met his maker long ago.

As the two continued to duel, Wang Jue’s combat experience steadily improved...

...

Unconsciously, an hour passed.

Just as he was getting the hang of things, the scene before his eyes shifted abruptly and his consciousness was pulled back. When he opened his eyes, the protective dome was gone.

"What? It’s over already?" Wang Jue was taken aback—the hour had flown by, and he hadn’t had his fill. In fact, he was just starting to adapt and, after so long on the defensive, was finally preparing to launch his own attack, only to discover time was up.

It felt like finally winning over the goddess of your dreams, getting her into a hotel room, and just as you’re about to make your move, she announces, "Sorry, it’s that time of the month." Utterly frustrating.

"Hehe... Quite a rush, isn’t it?" the attendant smiled. "Would you like to go another hour?"

"Uh..." Wang Jue reflexively patted the bank card in his pocket, thought it over, and finally stood up with a smile. "Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow instead."

The virtual combat room cost ten thousand per hour, and with only forty thousand left on his card, he could only afford four more hours. He didn’t want to burn through his money too quickly. If he were rich, he’d have stayed in the virtual combat room until closing time, but reality wouldn’t allow it.

More importantly, the duel with his doppelganger had taught him a great deal. He needed time to reflect on the experience, to analyze his mistakes and gains—so the ten thousand spent would not be wasted.

Naturally, Wang Jue had no intention of staying longer. For one thing, he was short on funds; for another, he didn’t want to let the experience from the four training halls go to waste.