The incense’s effect was limited—after blurting out just two words on instinct, their expressions changed one after another.
“Instructor.” Zhao Shi was the first to stand up straight.
Everyone else quickly snapped back to awareness and scrambled to get up. Among them, Su Cha was the calmest. Before standing, he made sure to extinguish the incense. With the atmosphere ruined, letting it burn would be a waste—this incense was far too precious to squander.
Zhao Shi really wanted to say, “We’re here to apologize,” but Instructor Li’s spiritual force was already spreading throughout the area. Unless you had professional training, even the slightest lie would be instantly exposed.
Zhao Shi gave up resisting and voluntarily confessed everything truthfully.
After hearing it all, Li Huai tapped the ladder next to him with his knuckles and laughed in exasperation. “Too much money burning a hole in your pockets?”
“I was wrong,” Zhao Shi muttered.
The others chimed in unison, “Instructor, we were wrong.”
They had truly run out of options. Su Cha’s physical strength was terrible—there was even a rumor that on a windy day, he almost got blown away. Faced with such a delicate weakling, even speaking harshly risked scaring him into fainting. With no other choice, they resorted to this low-grade tactic.
Seeing Li Huai remain silent, every second that passed felt like immense mental pressure. Half a minute felt like a century. Li Huai’s gaze finally landed on Su Cha. “What do you think?”
Su Cha rubbed his nose. “They didn’t do anything too overboard. As long as, from now on…”
Seizing the lifeline, Zhao Shi and the others quickly followed up, “From now on, we’ll absolutely stay united and kind, and won’t entertain any crooked thoughts!”
“Don’t let it happen again,” Li Huai said. “Now get lost.”
Like receiving a royal pardon, Zhao Shi and the others scrambled to leave, not sparing another glance at the incense that had a calming effect.
Only Su Cha remained in the dorm, now facing the tall instructor alone. The balcony door was shut, and with limited ventilation, a faint mist still lingered in the air.
Li Huai’s spiritual power was 3S-level. This kind of thing—not to mention incense—even if it were poisonous fumes, wouldn’t have much effect on him.
He crouched down, dipped his thumb into some ash, rubbed it, then glanced at the induction cooker and small frying pan. Noticing some bits of bark on the ground, he asked, “You made this?”
Su Cha nodded.
With his exceptional eyesight, Li Huai could clearly see through the glass as mosquitoes, drawn to the poisonous plant outside, were instantly absorbed by the sticky secretions on its leaves.
Su Cha walked over to open the balcony door. “Once it matures, it might bloom into a large flower. Its toxicity will reach a whole new level.”
Li Huai made a small cut on his fingertip and touched the leaf’s secretion.
Startled, Su Cha was about to speak, but Li Huai raised his hand to stop him.
The toxin seeped into the wound, and the blood around it darkened faintly—but soon returned to normal color.
“If your spiritual power is strong enough, even the deadliest poison is useless,” Li Huai said coolly. “If we had nothing going for us, the universe would’ve been overrun by strange beasts long ago.”
Su Cha breathed a sigh of relief. “Please don’t do things like that. If something went wrong, I wouldn’t be able to explain it.”
“…”
Only the principal knew the full truth about Su Cha’s early awakening phase. It hadn’t been long since he moved the soil—under normal circumstances, the seed couldn’t possibly have grown this fast. Li Huai narrowed his eyes and quickly saw through it: “You used spiritual force to stimulate it.”
At once, he understood why Yise used Su Cha as a betting pawn. He’d thought that guy, with his occasional thug-like behavior, would use his connections to get Su Cha into the finals. But now it seemed that wasn’t the case.
“I was inspired by the principal,” Su Cha said.
Before classes officially started, it would’ve been hard for Su Cha, with his limited understanding of spiritual power, to consider applying it like this.
Li Huai’s gaze suddenly dropped downward, and following his line of sight, Su Cha belatedly noticed the bruises on his hand.
Thinking back to his fake fall, he remembered accidentally hitting a rock. With an awkward laugh, he said, “I thought I’d get hit, so I tried to fall and pretend to extort them.”
Li Huai didn’t find this surprising. A student who fiddled with poisons in the dorm wouldn’t be foolish enough to just walk over and get beaten.
He didn’t scold him either, which Su Cha found a little odd.
“There are two things in this world that are very hard to do consistently,” Li Huai said, looking at Su Cha.
“To stay vigilant—and to be honest with your own people.”
The first one was written on the front page of the school motto. The second, you had to judge on your own.
“Understand?”
Su Cha nodded, half comprehending.
“After the tournament, don’t forget to deliver that flower you promised.”
“…”
After he left, Su Cha stood there alone, turning over the phrase “your own people” in his mind.
Someone you could trust—that’s what “your own” meant.
To Su Cha, it was far easier to take risks alone than to trust someone else. He was still more used to keeping his guard up against the world.
Turning back to the balcony to check on the tiger-striped grass’s growth, Su Cha focused entirely on preparing the medicine.
Half a month passed. Only five days remained until the team roster submission deadline. By now, the rankings of the new students in various disciplines had mostly settled.
On the morning of the 16th, the first team list was submitted. Within just one hour, the number of teams surged to ten.
Su Cha intensified his stimulation efforts.
“Come on, baby, bloom already.”
Every day, he struggled to control his spiritual power, slowly injecting it into the plant.
Beside him, the communicator screen stayed lit. He refreshed it from time to time. Once Li Huai finished verifying the team lists, they were reported to the official site immediately—this subtly created a sense of urgency. Good teammates had to be snatched quickly; with every passing minute, the pool of options shrank.
If he was going to do this, he wanted the best. Su Cha’s goal was also to find strong teammates.
He stared fixedly at the flower’s leaves. Perhaps his thoughts had reached it—finally, the petals began to show signs of unfurling. Normally, a Overlord Flower would emit a foul stench as it bloomed. Once mature, it would transform into a true carnivorous plant. But Su Cha’s earlier efforts weren’t in vain. Thanks to grafting and mental cultivation, this Overlord Flower emitted not rot, but a faint, pleasant fragrance reminiscent of its seedling stage.
Mosquitoes outside dropped like rain. Even a few tiny insects hiding in the cracks of the walls died instantly.
Even the scent was poisonous. It was the stuff of dreams.
Su Cha poured in more spiritual power, and the fragrance began to drift like a slow-flowing river.
If he had to compare it, it was like a merciful viper—gentle and soft, it wrapped around its prey with no warning, flicking out its tongue without sound, strangling its target little by little.
The Overlord Flower finally fully bloomed. Its diameter was massive, colors vivid—gorgeous, yet lethally toxic.
Success!
Cradling his dream flower, Su Cha headed out to recommend himself to others.
As soon as he opened the door, Ji Tianjin was already standing outside, seemingly just about to knock.
Su Cha was surprised and delighted. No one showed up at your door without a reason, and Ji Tianjin didn’t seem like the type to cause trouble. Could he be here to form a team? At the thought, Su Cha’s eyes curved into a sweet smile as he held his flowerpot like a good, obedient child.
Cute.
For the first time in his life, Ji Tianjin felt like he had seen the living embodiment of the word.
Their eyes met—and suddenly, the detector on Ji Tianjin’s waist lit up red.
Beep beep…
“Toxic…”
Beep beep…
“Highly toxic…”
After silencing the blaring device, Ji Tianjin stared at Su Cha for a moment, his gaze falling on the flowerpot in Su Cha’s hands. The flower, stunningly beautiful, faced him directly, every petal unnaturally large.
“This the plant you’ve been raising?”
Su Cha gave an “Mm,” and proudly said, “Super poisonous.”
He had poured a tremendous amount of energy into cultivating it, losing sleep from the mental drain. Then he asked straightforwardly, “Are you here to team up?”
Ji Tianjin, having redefined what ‘peaceful times’ could mean, didn’t beat around the bush. “The spiritual form that almost attacked you in the hospital was mine.”
“The white tiger?” Su Cha was startled.
Ji Tianjin nodded. “I lost control of my spiritual power on the outskirts of the interstellar battlefield and was hospitalized for a while.”
“I suspect you have the ability to calm spiritual forms.”
Each sentence was more direct than the last. Su Cha appreciated the frank approach and responded just as directly, “I haven’t fully awakened yet. If you really lose control, I might not be able to help. But…”
He pointed toward the plants on the balcony. “I can make two types of compounds. One can induce early heat in strange beasts. The other can suppress their combat ability.”
Ji Tianjin asked bluntly, “How confident are you that it’ll work?”
“The poison, I can’t guarantee.” Su Cha had never encountered a real strange beast, nor could he afford a full corpse to experiment on. “But the second one—definitely.”
Tiger pelt grass had well-documented effects on strange beasts. Su Cha briefly explained the cultivation process.
“Have you had your spiritual power tested?” Ji Tianjin suddenly asked.
Across the whole Galan Empire, hardly anyone could stimulate seeds with their spiritual power. Most people’s spiritual power was too aggressive—touching a seed would instantly destroy its embryo.
Su Cha nodded. “Very weak.”
“Maybe not weak—just too gentle.”
Sometimes, one feather and a thousand can do the same damage.
Ji Tianjin restarted the detector, closed all the doors and windows, and enveloped the entire dorm with his spiritual power, forming an invisible barrier that also surrounded Su Cha.
It felt like he was wrapped in a thin veil. The sensation was strange, almost magical.
Truthfully, Ji Tianjin didn’t need to do this—his demonic power made him immune to most poisons. As Su Cha bent down to examine the effect, Ji Tianjin said, “Try activating this flower’s toxins at full force.”
Cradling the flowerpot, Su Cha pushed his spiritual power to the limit. The flower’s scent, highly toxic, somehow had a calming, almost sedative effect.
The detector only had time to flash red before it exploded with a bang.
The toxins were too strong.
The device was designed to collect and analyze toxic gases, but the air’s toxicity had exceeded its limit.
Under Ji Tianjin’s mental shield, Su Cha barely felt anything. He even asked with concern, “Did you buy a knockoff product or something?”
So flimsy.
Ji Tianjin was silent for a few seconds.
There’s a saying: when God opens a door for you, He closes a window.
For most people, God opened a house door. For Su Cha, maybe it was the gates of heaven.
Ji Tianjin could clearly see the spiritual connection between Su Cha and the Overlord Flower—there were tens of thousands of links.
Normally, when someone used their spiritual power to control something, there would be at most a hundred links.
Tens of thousands meant absolute control over the target—down to every breath.
This extreme compatibility allowed Su Cha to unleash toxins a hundred times more potent than the flower itself could produce.
