"Master, the calculation is complete. Under ideal conditions, a veteran Second Level Martial Artist who has fought the Alien Race his entire life, considering the blood, sweat, and tears he’s shed and the combat missions he’s completed, would earn roughly 500 Imperial Contribution Points."
"But it’s important to note,"
Hammer added, "According to Imperial law, Martial Artists who haven’t reached the fourth level are unable to undertake missions independently. They can’t unlock the Imperial mission board or directly earn Imperial Contribution Points. All of their combat merits are typically reported through their affiliated institutions, such as the Planet Governor’s Mansion, the Planet Military Department, and the Planet Treasury Department. These institutions then distribute the rewards to them as resource allocations."
After hearing Hammer’s explanation, Qin Feng fell silent.
He leaned back on the sofa and let out a long sigh.
’Five hundred Contribution Points...’
’That veteran, Kro... He fought his whole life, shedding blood on the battlefield. All of that should have been his.’
’But in the end, all the glory and rewards that should have been his fell into the hands of those corrupt, high-ranking wretches on Purgatory-IV Planet.’
’Meanwhile, he was left to face his disability in despair. He was kicked out of the Star Realm Army, thrown into a mining machine to toil away endlessly, and ultimately driven into the arms of a Chaos Evil God.’
’How ironic. How tragic.’
’Thankfully, it’s not like that here on Qiming Star. Thankfully, there isn’t so much corruption.’
Qin Feng was grateful.
***
The scene shifted to the interior of the dim and damp Hongchang Martial Arts Hall.
Unlike the bright, clean, and positive atmosphere of the Extreme Martial Arts Hall, the air here was thick with the pungent stench of cheap ointment and sweat.
The walls were covered in gaudy posters advertising "One-Hit Kills" and "Mastery in Three Days," reeking of cheap commercialism.
BAM!
The back door of the Martial Arts Hall was brutally kicked open.
A pathetic-looking figure stumbled inside.
It was the coach whose wrist had just been crippled by Qin Feng in a single move at the Extreme Martial Arts Hall.
He clutched his wrist, which was swollen like a pig’s trotter, his face a mask of pain and venomous resentment.
"Fuck! This is killing me!"
While cursing, he rummaged through a cabinet, pulled out a bottle of cheap liniment spray, and sprayed it haphazardly on the wound.
The acrid smell instantly filled the entire room.
A middle-aged man walked out from the inner room. He bore a strong resemblance to the coach but had a shrewder look about him.
He was the master of the Hongchang Martial Arts Hall and the injured coach’s older brother.
"You’re back?"
The Hall Master’s brow furrowed when he saw his younger brother’s pathetic state. "You’re back already? Is it done? What about that kid from Golden Dragon Martial High School?"
"Done my ass!"
His brother’s words were like a lit fuse. He slammed a fist on the table, which made him jolt his injury and grimace in pain.
Fighting through the intense pain, he recounted everything that had just happened at the Extreme Martial Arts Hall, giving a heavily embellished version of the story.
"Fucking hell, some kid named Qin Feng came out of nowhere and crippled me in one move! That guy from Golden Dragon Martial High School saw things going south and bolted! He left me there to take all the heat!"
"Bro, what the fuck was that?! How did the Extreme Martial Arts Hall suddenly get such a hardass?!"
As the Hall Master listened to his brother’s story, his expression shifted from confusion to gravity.
Finally, when he heard the words "Qin Feng" and "General Star of Qiming," his face instantly turned deathly pale.
SMASH! The teacup in his hand fell to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.
His brother, however, was completely oblivious to the Hall Master’s strange reaction.
He was still lost in his own anger and humiliation, and said viciously,
"Bro! I can’t just let this go! That kid was too ruthless! Why don’t we... hire some guys from the underworld? Spend a little money to rough him up? I’ll look into his family, too. I refuse to believe some snot-nosed brat can just walk all over us! We have to teach him a lesson and show him what happens when you mess with the two of us!"
Before he could even finish his sentence.
SLAP!!!
A resounding slap landed viciously across his face!
The force of the slap was so great it sent him stumbling back. Half his face swelled up and turned a deep red, the change visible to the naked eye.
He was completely stunned.
Clutching his face, he stared at his own brother in utter disbelief.
"Bro... you... why did you hit me?"
"Hit you? I fucking want to kill you!"
The Hall Master’s body trembled from a mixture of extreme fear and rage.
He pointed at his brother’s nose and roared hoarsely, "Are you fucking crazy?! Or is your brain full of Exotic Beast shit?!"
"Do you even know what the ’General Star of Qiming’ is?!"
"That’s the one and only King to emerge from all the top Martial Arts High School students on the entire Qiming Star! He’s a future pillar of the Empire! A man destined to become a planetary-level, even stellar-level, powerhouse!"
The Hall Master’s voice was sharp and shrill with agitation.
"Get revenge? And go after his *family*? Let me tell you something! Forget about two third-rate Social Stray Martial Artists like us. Even the bosses of the Exotic Beast processing plants in this district—those Local Tyrants with hundreds of thugs who rule this area—even *they* have to bow and scrape before him like obedient grandsons! They’d do anything to kiss his ass, to kiss his *family’s* ass, terrified that he might suffer the slightest inconvenience!"