Master of the System

Grandpa Vremya, Karta, and the four phoegons were squatting in the corner of the room. Between the six of them, there were dozens of glass orbs, each containing swirling mists filled with all kinds of colors. Some of them had so many colors mixed inside of them that they appeared brown while others were vibrant like a rainbow. The pile of divinities would’ve been enough to make any mortal salivate, but the two gods and four phoegons were poking and prodding through the pile as if they were searching for ripe oranges at a marketplace.

“Do you see anything you want?” Grandpa Vremya asked the phoegons. All of them shook their heads, causing Grandpa Vremya to frown. “I don’t know why you’re being so picky. These are divinities. They can turn you into gods and allow you to live forever.”

North snorted, the phoegon’s scaly face wrinkling in disdain. “I’d rather be a mortal than a god of coconut flesh.”

“If you take the divinity of coconut milk and coconut shells too, you can be the god of coconuts,” East said, nudging three glass orbs towards North with its tail.

“No one wants to be the god of coconuts,” North said and rolled its eyes. “Where are the useful divinities? I want one that’ll help me fight and hunt!”

“The gods that can fight are the ones that’ll die last,” Karta said. “We only looted these divinities because their owners couldn’t survive against the titans.” Her eyes narrowed at North. “Besides, what’s wrong with being a food god, huh? Are you looking down on the power of food?”

North sneered. “I am! What are you going to do about it? Stuff me to death with potato chips?”

Karta’s lips pulled back, revealing her teeth. She swiveled her head towards Grandpa Vremya. “Can I hit them? Please?” If the phoegons weren’t Grandpa Vremya’s pets, she would’ve taught them a painful lesson already. Of course, she wouldn’t do it personally; it wasn’t very hard for the god of the marketplace to purchase a golem off the marketplace. Well, nowadays, it was pretty difficult. Not a lot of gods were selling things; they were too busy using all their resources to fend off the titans.

“You can hit them,” Grandpa Vremya said. “But I think you’ll be on the losing end if they decide to hit you back.”

Karta’s eyes lit up, and she pounced on the phoegons. Regardless of her lack of combat-related divinity, she was still a god. Her body was stronger than a false immortal that had passed his tribulation of the body. How could the four phoegons compete with her when they were still stuck in the soul-seed realm?

Grandpa Vremya watched the stinky dog bully the phoegons, not intending on helping out. After getting thrashed for a bit, maybe the phoegons would appreciate what it meant to be a god and stop being so picky. It wasn’t like someone could only have one divinity. However, if the divinities they absorbed were too powerful or were clashing in domain, then problems could arise. It was why Vremya had given the divinity of gravity to his avatar instead of absorbing it for himself. Grandpa Vremya stroked his beard and pulled out his personal computer. All his life, he had been cultivating to become a god. Now that he had achieved his goal, there was a lot of free time on his hands. What should he do?

Karta chuckled, quite happy with the result of her brawl. The four phoegons were piled underneath her, unable to escape. “That’ll teach you to look down on potato chips,” she said and smacked a phoegon’s head. She wasn’t sure which one it was, and she didn’t quite care either. She glanced at Grandpa Vremya to make sure she hadn’t gone overboard; instead of seeing disapproval on the old man’s face, she saw a look of deep contemplation. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Should I conquer the godly society?”

Karta blinked. “Huh?” Conquer the godly society? “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I’m wondering if I should replace all the primordial gods with one of my avatars,” Grandpa Vremya said and stroked his beard.

“Why would you want to do that?” Karta asked, a dumbfounded expression on her face. “Do you know how fast society would collapse if you replaced all the strong gods with yourself? You only replaced Gravitat, and the whole thing nearly fell apart. If you replace Kosmos too, wouldn’t everyone just die to the titans? Sure, you’ll be fine, but without society, there’ll be no juicy gossip. The only things on the marketplace will be things you gathered. Who’ll take pictures of rivers for you? It wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to replace all the gods if you were actually going to do something like slaughter all the titans, but all you do is sit on your ass.”

Grandpa Vremya didn’t really like Karta’s tone, but he had to admit the dog had a point. If he really did claim all the good divinities for avatars of himself, the godly society would stagnate because his avatars wouldn’t be motivated to do anything. “Even though you smell, you bring up a good point.”

“My nose is a thousand times more sensitive than yours!” Karta bared her teeth. “I don’t smell!”

“You stink,” East said. Coincidentally, the phoegon’s face was awfully close to Karta’s butt. “I can smell the food you ate yesterday from here.”

Karta snorted and thwapped the phoegons with her tail a few times. She stared at Grandpa Vremya. “Are you … bored?” Karta asked, her eyes wide open. Vremya never seemed to get bored, but it seemed like his avatar wasn’t immune to monotony.

Grandpa Vremya stood up and pulled out his phone. “I think I’ll go see what Azalea’s doing,” he said, opting to ignore Karta’s question.

***

Howard licked his lips. There were truly too many cultivation techniques located on the first floor. An hour wasn’t enough time to browse through even a hundredth of the books and scrolls. As the first-place student this time around, he was allowed to browse through the library for four hours rather than one; it was his privilege for being the best. However, even with four hours, it was impossible to go through all the techniques. Luckily, they were sorted nicely, and labels jutted out of the bookshelves to help students locate the techniques they wanted.

There were four techniques Howard wanted. He had to obtain a cultivation technique, a movement technique, an offensive spiritual technique, and a body-training technique. As long as he had those three, he’d basically be invincible!

[Student, I highly suggest leaving and coming back after you make a sworn sibling. With an eidetic memory, you’ll be able to memorize as many techniques as you want. To find the four techniques you want will take quite some time. How long will you have to memorize each of them? Forty minutes? Thirty? The system will give you a great advantage, but you have to make proper use of it!]

Howard snorted. Right behind him, there was a flood of students. Clearly, none of them were staying behind to make friends with one another. Who knew how long it would take to become sworn brothers with someone? Everyone could enter the library, but that didn’t mean it was open all day! If he fell behind now, he’d continue falling behind forever. That’s how cultivation was! It was a race, a sprint, and a marathon all in one.

[You stubborn…! Fine!]

[New Mission: Choosing Appropriate Techniques]

[Without a proper foundation, one won’t get very far in cultivation. Find the four most appropriate techniques for your situation.]

[Reward: Eidetic Memory]

[Punishment for Failure: Ten Million Lashes!]

Howard flinched. Ten million lashes? Was that the name of a special technique he’d receive if he failed?

[I didn’t think it was possible, but you might be dumber than the cactus. The system is being uninstalled.]