"Holy crap! It’s Zhou Run! In the flesh!"
"Front row seat! Just caught a wild Lai Zi!!"
"Oh my god! Senior Zhou Run is here himself to drop some knowledge!"
"My mind is completely blown right now... Senior Zhou Run is so monstrously strong, yet he couldn’t even get past the 81st floor?! Then what kind of hellish difficulty must floors 91 to 100 be!"
"And the most crucial part is... Senior Qin Feng, he didn’t just clear it—he cleared it as a Level 4 Martial Artist!"
"I finally get why the entire university gave him a five-minute-long, scrolling red broadcast! *This* is what you call prestige!"
Just then, another unknown expert with the ID "Tower Sweeping Monk" chimed in at the perfect moment, adding the final splash of fuel to the firestorm of excitement.
"By the way, here’s a bit of trivia for the new students."
"The Canaan Tower allows you to brute-force lower levels. If you’re a fifth or sixth-level Martial Artist and you clear floors one to one hundred, you can still get all the generous Contribution Points. However, there won’t be any broadcast on the private network."
"Only true prodigies like Qin Feng, who complete a corresponding, near-impossible challenge at the appropriate level..."
"...are able to earn this unique, Canaan-wide broadcast across the entire private network!"
-----------------
While the private network forums of Canaan Starry Sky Martial Arts University erupted in an unprecedented frenzy of discussion about "Qin Beast" and the "prestige of the Canaan Tower"—all thanks to the scrolling red broadcast and Zhou Run’s personal appearance—Qin Feng, the man at the very center of the storm, remained completely oblivious.
At that moment, he was sitting cross-legged in the quiet meditation of his spacious and familiar dorm Cultivation Room, his entire consciousness immersed in another, more important and purer world.
Before him, a massive virtual light screen floated silently.
On the screen, combat footage played on a loop, showing the countless bloody battles he had fought in the Canaan Tower over the past year.
From the rampaging, green-skinned, armored War Lord on the 91st floor to the indestructible Stone Race Champion Warrior on the 100th.
Every battle, every defeat, every hard-won victory...
He had recorded every detail in the highest possible definition, leaving nothing out.
He watched them again and again.
He was like the strictest, most discerning chess master reviewing his past games.
He slowed his every move down to the extreme.
He analyzed the angle of each spear thrust, the timing of every exertion of force, the trajectory of every dodge.
He also analyzed his powerful opponents from the Cosmic Ten Thousand Races—their completely different combat styles, their bizarre and unpredictable killing moves, and the primal battle instincts they displayed on the brink of life and death.
It was a long, lonely, yet immensely rewarding process of consolidation and reflection.
Even within the Control Realm, there was a world of difference between practitioners.
After hundreds, even thousands, of high-intensity, life-or-death battles against true Alien Race monsters who had also reached the Fourth Level Limit, Qin Feng’s understanding of the word "Control" was on a completely different level.
Through this repeated review and enlightenment, his many killing techniques, which had already reached the Control Realm, became more fluid, more refined, and more lethal.
And as for his Second-level Spear Technique, *Cold Gleam*—a technique he had high hopes for but had yet to bring into the Realm of Control—through repeated observation and comparison, he finally, faintly, caught a spark of inspiration that would lead him to the Control Realm.
Time slipped away quietly amidst this state of extreme focus and consolidation.
By the time Qin Feng had thoroughly absorbed, digested, and integrated the thousands of battle recordings into his own Combat System, another six full months had passed.
He slowly opened his eyes.
A sharp glint, more restrained yet more profound than before, flashed in the depths of his eyes and was gone.
He raised a hand and closed the virtual light screen.
’Time for the next step.’
Qin Feng stretched, and his bones let out a series of crisp pops and cracks, like roasting soybeans.
Only then did he leisurely open his personal Subspace Network, which had been dormant for a long time.
Half a year had now passed since he successfully cleared the tower.
The scrolling red broadcast that had once caused such a commotion on the forums was long gone, vanished without a trace.
The entire forum had returned to its usual calm, with all sorts of posts constantly refreshing on the main page.
With practiced ease, Qin Feng’s finger tapped the familiar icon for the Empire’s highest trading platform.
The Imperial Trading House.
Looking at his "massive" balance of 6,229 Contribution Points, the corner of Qin Feng’s mouth lifted in a smile that said, ’All according to plan.’
This time, he didn’t browse the expensive Cultivation Techniques, nor did he look at the Potions.
His gaze was firm and decisive, locked onto the "Equipment" section.
He thought for a moment and finally made a decision.
’First, buy power armor.’
This decision was not made on a whim, but was his most rational choice after careful consideration.
There were two reasons for this.
First, and most importantly: