Arin Valkar stood under the battered pavilion, his bones groaning in protest. His HP was so low it might as well be a rumor. His XP bar sat at [2690 / 3000], taunting him with its smug near-completion.
"Just a little more…" Arin muttered, eyes bloodshot, lips chapped, and with the faint scent of dried sweat and disappointment lingering like a loyal dog.
Across from him, the sect's third-strongest inner disciple—Huin Thorne—cracked his knuckles. "You sure you want to do this? You look like a rejected scarecrow."
"Do it, coward," Arin grinned, spitting blood. "Hit me so hard I forget how taxes work."
[You have provoked a Senior Disciple. +5 Masochism Rating.]
"System," Arin whispered in his head. "You know what time it is."
[Ding! Passive: Bone-Iron Constitution – Level 3 (2690 / 3000)]
[Mission: Receive damage exceeding 300 HP in one strike. Reward: Trait Evolution.]
[Penalty on Failure: Banana-Cut Curse (Your voice will squeak every time you say anything serious.)]
"Wait. What the hell is a Banana-Cut Curse?"
[System Advice: Do not fail.]
Huin didn't wait. He delivered a spinning kick straight into Arin's ribs. The crack sounded like a bundle of dry twigs in a washing machine.
[You have taken 327 damage.]
[Critical Hit! Organs juggled!]
[+310 XP!]
[Bone-Iron Constitution – Level Up! Now Level 4 (0 / 5000)]
[New Passive Unlocked: Painful Efficiency – Every injury improves muscle growth by 10% for 3 hours.]
[You have gained Trait: Numb Optimism – Your body hurts, but your heart is used to it.]
Arin coughed out blood—and a tooth. "Yessss. Break me harder, Daddy Heaven."
Mira Soeyri, watching from the shade of a cherry blossom tree, narrowed her eyes. "This guy… He enjoys this. Is this some twisted enlightenment method?"
"Report back to Veil Lotus," she whispered into her spirit talisman. "Subject Arin Valkar continues to defy emotional and logical consistency. He smiled after being kicked through a bench."
Three hours later, Arin limped into the outer disciple dorms. Every step felt like a betrayal of his nervous system.
Boji, the sect's head chef, stared. "Did you fight a demon or kiss a horse's hoof?"
Arin smiled with cracked lips. "Does it matter? Pain is love. Pain is gain."
[System Prompt: Your current injuries are critical. Recommended: Apply [Herbal Ointment of Cow Tears].]
"I don't need ointment. I need more EXP."
Arin limped to the courtyard training stone and slapped it. "Come on, I need someone to punch me again. Preferably with a grudge and bad parenting."
[New System Quest: Survive a group beatdown by no less than five outer disciples. Reward: +500 XP, Hidden Trait.]
[Penalty: Embarrassing Slogan Tattooed on Forehead – "Beat Me, I'm Buff."]
"...System, you're a menace."
Five outer disciples stood before him, confused but curious.
"Wait, you're saying you want us to beat the crap out of you?"
"Yes." Arin cracked his neck. "Unleash your inner trauma. Daddy issues? Failed exams? Ex cheated? Take it all out. On me."
They obliged. What followed was a blur of fists, elbows, and one guy swinging a bamboo broom with the confidence of a retired janitor turned warrior monk.
[Damage Taken: 612 HP over 20 minutes.]
[You survived the Group Beatdown.]
[+550 XP. Current XP: 550 / 5000 (Bone-Iron Constitution – Level 4)]
[Hidden Trait Unlocked: Mob-Battle Veteran – You take 5% less damage from groups of 3+ enemies.]
Mira appeared again. This time, invisible to others, she watched from the rooftop. Her brows furrowed.
"He keeps leveling through pain. Is it a unique constitution or… a broken system?"
Her fingers trembled. "...Why am I watching him every night?"
"Subject Arin Valkar exhibits unusual masochistic tendencies. Repeated beatings result in stat increases and new passive traits. His sense of logic has not improved, however."
"Notably, he seems to flirt with pain itself. I suspect he's becoming emotionally entangled with agony. And maybe… me?"
Pause.
"No. Ridiculous."
She scribbled harder.
"...He has a good smile, though. Bastard."
A grand bell rang across the sect.
[System Broadcast: Tournament Trials begin in 3 days.]
A projection lit up over the courtyard.
[Match: Arin Valkar vs Huin Thorne – Round 1]
Arin grinned. "Perfect."
[System Note: Your current win probability is 0.8%.]
"I like those odds."
Arin sat under the waterfall. Not to meditate. To get concussed repeatedly by the falling water.
[+12 XP every 10 minutes.]
Mira's voice drifted in her mind: "Subject now uses nature to beat himself up. He has weaponized his own stupidity."
Meanwhile, sect elders began whispering.
"Who is this Arin? His XP rate is absurd."
"Insane talent?"
"Insane masochism."
Elder Bao muttered, "He reminds me of… that one. From the Lotus Archives."
That night, Mira crept into Arin's courtyard. He was asleep, drooling on a cultivation manual. His ribs visibly pulsed with light.
She whispered, "Why can't I stop watching you, idiot?"
Arin stirred in sleep. "Mira… more poison in the soup next time, please. Builds resistance."
Mira flushed. "Pervert."
She vanished into the night.
With one day left before the Tournament Trials, Arin challenged the Iron Dummy—an ancient construct known for breaking bones more than egos.
[You have taken 489 damage.]
[+500 XP. Current: 1050 / 5000]
[You have gained Micro-Trait: Bruise Memory – You gain resistance to repeated injuries in the same spot.]
Arin chuckled. "My body's learning. My brain? Still a gamble."