The sunlight was harsh, casting streaks of glare through the cracks between his fingers. Above, his instructor's furious expression could barely be made out.
The light filtered through the verdant trees, casting flickering shadows across Chen Fu's face.
"Fourth-year student Chen Fu, please present your graduation project."
The reviewing teacher, sensing the tension between master and disciple, announced the request flatly, playing the role of an emotionless functionary.
"Reporting, teacher. My graduation project is—"
Chen Fu turned his back to the gathered crowd of onlookers and met the gaze of his instructor, Fan Yu, who stood above with clenched fists and a stormy face. For a moment, time seemed to freeze.
They had bickered for four years. Though his instructor often scolded him for straying from the "proper path" and warned that he'd meet a grim end, Fan Yu never once denied him access to the experimental materials he needed.
In his first year, Chen Fu had clashed with Fan Yu over the application of his final project: "Soul Power Miniaturized Storage Technology."
Fan Yu insisted the tech should be used to enhance Soul Tool cannons—amplifying output and endurance for the Academy's current weapon systems.
Chen Fu, however, had a different vision.
He wanted to popularize Soul Tools for civilians. His "bottle"—a high-efficiency soul power storage unit—was meant to allow non-soul masters to use Soul Tools. Combined with his custom-designed Soul Tool farming equipment, it could dramatically improve productivity across the continent.
After all, even if food-type soul masters could feed many, Chen Fu had done the math: only about 10% of the population was born with innate soul power. Of those, fewer than 5% had real cultivation potential. Meaning, 95% of people were effectively soul-powerless.
Among that 5%, the ratio of combat-type to food-type soul masters was absurdly skewed. A simple sample survey from Shrek Academy revealed the ratio to be around 1%.
So what then? Rely on that tiny elite to "support" the rest?
And even if Soul Tools were to flourish, expecting fewer than a thousand researchers across the two continents to carry that torch was unrealistic. Mass production of Soul Tool soldiers was practical—but pushing the technical boundaries still required true innovators.
Chen Fu had always aimed for "Soul Tool normalization—and even Soul Power normalization."
Within Shrek Academy, there existed a vague belief in "soul power conservation," and Fan Yu had clearly told Chen Fu this was a real phenomenon.
"I've lost the only home I had in this world. Instructor, can you even understand how that feels?"
Under the cold moonlight outside the window, Chen Fu's voice was calm to the core. His eyes remained steady as his hand worked a soul-energy carving knife without pause, tracing intricate geometric channels at blazing speed.
"From now on, Shrek will be your home."
Looking at the boy who didn't even blink at such words, Fan Yu felt a headache coming on. He didn't want to be involved in the Star Luo Empire's political infighting that had ousted this once "promising city's son."
"You really think this will overturn the world?"
Chen Fu ignored him. Lifting the geometric object he'd just completed, he placed it in front of Fan Yu.
"What is this?"
The object radiated a sense of rational beauty, momentarily distracting Fan Yu from the boy's defiance.
"Final project. Made using second-grade materials: [Ark]. A new soul power storage technology. Also, I find the current Soul Tool grading system crude. This so-called second-grade Soul Tool holds as much power as a traditional fourth-grade energy bottle—but it's cheaper and smaller."
Chen Fu had never cared for grading based on user compatibility. If one had to become a nuke to wield a nuke, the tech was meaningless.
"Do you realize what this means?!"
Fan Yu was visibly shaken. Though Chen Fu's soul master talent was average, Fan Yu had always believed his Martial Soul made him a genius in Soul Tool engineering. And yet—just one year in, and this student had already stunned him.
"It means lowering the cost of Soul Tool usage—and lowering the barrier of entry."
That had been Chen Fu's reply. Even three years later, it still echoed in Fan Yu's mind.
Now, facing his instructor's furious glare, Chen Fu met it unflinchingly.
The more logic is debated, the clearer it becomes. What began as a private disagreement soon became the defining moment of the Soul Tool Academy's graduation ceremony.
Fan Yu knew exactly what Chen Fu had been working on these past few years. If successful, it would shake the entire soul master hierarchy. Though he'd spent two years refining low-grade Soul Tools with a calculated aesthetic, Fan Yu knew the boy had never abandoned his more dangerous ideas.
And the way he used tools to control tools, combined with his unique Martial Soul, had already taken him to depths of research Fan Yu himself couldn't comprehend.
"Unfortunately, Instructor... you guessed wrong again."
Letting lower-ranked soul masters defeat higher-ranked ones? That wasn't a true "revolution."
"My graduation project is a semi-automatic Soul Tool battle rifle."
In the end, Chen Fu chose compromise. He reached into his storage-type Soul Tool wristband and drew out a sleek rifle-shaped cannon, noticeably different from traditional Soul Tool firearms.
"This Soul Tool rifle is powered by a fourth-grade [Ark] core. It has two modes: rapid-fire and charged shot. The first can pierce two-millimeter steel plates with a simple trigger pull; the second can penetrate ten-millimeter steel after a brief charge. Effective range: 500 meters. Maximum damage range: 200 meters. Supports both Ark core recharging and direct soul power infusion."
Compared to the farming tools he once designed, this was his first true weaponized Soul Tool.
Seeing the relief in Fan Yu's eyes, Chen Fu sighed inwardly.
"Instructor... habitual thinking is the enemy of innovation."
"What grade is it, officially?" The reviewing teacher asked, realizing Chen Fu had avoided saying.
"Based on materials and firepower, it's a fourth-grade Soul Tool in the hands of low-level soul masters. For Soul Elders or Soul Kings, it's effectively a fifth-grade Soul Tool."
The [Ark] core allowed power scaling. Stronger users could tap into the stored energy to boost the rifle's output.
"Its core value lies in this—it allows Rank 11 or 20 soul masters to wield fourth-grade firepower."
Chen Fu glanced toward the nearby students—onlookers from both inner and outer court.
"For example, without using my own soul power, I could use just the Ark's stored charge to take out most first- and second-year students with a single shot."
"Care to try it out?" he asked, handing the rifle to the reviewing teacher.
The teacher took it, clearly not intending to actually fire it. But the surrounding students panicked, backing away in alarm—except for the older and inner-court students who stood firm.
Smiling wryly, the teacher gestured to a nearby inner-court defensive-type Soul King. The man had no choice but to step up, resigned.
"Stand back a bit. Let me test this Soul Tool."
Fully activating his defensive techniques and Martial Soul shield, the Soul King braced himself.
Whoosh!
The shield trembled slightly—not painful.
Whoosh!
A sudden numbness spread through his body, and he stumbled back a few steps.
The teacher smiled and waved him off. He hadn't even used the soul power amplification mode. The test was more than sufficient.
"So what do you intend to do with this tech?" a previously silent elder beside Fan Yu suddenly asked.
"Self-decryption."
As expected. The elder nodded. Fan Yu still hadn't cracked the internal [Ark] circuitry even after three years. The overlapping soul circuits made the core nearly impossible to analyze without a methodical approach.
"In that case, the inner court denies your admission."
Chen Fu looked at his instructor, whose expression remained unreadable.
"Permanently?"
"Until we fully decode your [Ark] core tech." The elder spoke calmly, sipping his wine and pulling snacks from his pocket.
"So I'm expelled?"
"No—you're graduated." The Soul Tool Academy dean chimed in with emphasis.
"Then I'd like to apply for the title of Honorary Instructor."
"Granted." The elder smiled.
"Title only. No lectures."
"That's fine." The elder laughed again, clearly unbothered.