Powerful Tendon

A lower-grade artifact — no, a Dharma Treasure. And not just any lower-grade piece. The prefix Powerful sat right up there with Swift, Enraged, and Radiant as one of the highest-rated prefixes in the lower tier, and the performance lived up to the hype. Completely unhinged for its grade.

Sure, using it locked you into a twenty-four-hour cooldown — but that was just the lower-grade tax talking.

Seeing a Dharma Treasure that pushed an already monstrous attack power even higher, my eyes practically spun in my skull. I walked straight up to the cultivator holding it and shoved every last spirit stone I owned in their face.

"I'll take that. Senior."

"This string? Well, I suppose tying your hair back might make you look a little less savage."

I successfully bought the Dharma Treasure the female senior cultivator had been holding. She treated it like a ribbon, apparently. Dharma Treasures had to be worn on the body, so I'd been thinking of wrapping it around my waist — but at her suggestion, I just tied my hair up with it.

Though calling it a tendon or a ribbon was generous. It felt exactly like a red rubber band.

Anyway. I'd come looking for shop-grade armor and walked out with a Dharma Treasure instead, so I was grinning like an idiot as I tried to leave Gangseo Pavilion — only to get blocked again by the same seniors who'd been in my way earlier.

"…So. Why exactly have you all been standing in my path this whole time, seniors?"

"Does she really look that dangerous to you?"

"She's barely early Foundation Establishment."

"Excuse me? Could you move?"

"I don't understand why we're just supposed to stand here and watch."

"Look at her — she's just a little girl…"

Watching these goddamn NPCs talk right over me, I was cursing them out in my head. They showed zero intention of stepping aside. My already paper-thin patience finally snapped clean in half.

"The wind says that from ancient times, pathblocking has always been a matter of pride."

"What?"

"Auto-Battle."

Oh, damn. An Overwhelming result, here? Must be because they were NPCs. Their auto-battle loss ratio relative to level was still trash compared to monsters.

When Auto-Battle ended and I came back to myself, I checked the results. Of the three cultivators who'd been blocking the road, the two mid-stage Foundation Establishment ones were dead — one with a ripped-off neck, the other folded in half at the spine. The late-stage Foundation Establishment one had their spiritual root torn out, guts and heart exposed, hanging on the edge of death.

"Can I go through now?"

"…Ghk… kuhhk… kk—"

"I said, can I go through? You're still not answering. Hey, senior over there — any idea why this one won't talk?"

Instead of answering, the remaining senior spun around without a second of hesitation and bolted. I watched them go for a moment, then raised spiritual energy through my blood-soaked body, shook every drop of it off, and sighed.

I'd just attacked neutral NPCs inside a city. Something like city guards would be spawning any second. Should I run before they showed?

"…Hmm."

I'd only killed three neutral NPCs, but the experience and slaughter energy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'd gained were so heavy that my eyes were already drifting toward the other neutrals nearby.

"Yeah. I'm fucked."

On the minimap, red dots started clustering around me. In every game ever made, city guards existed not to keep the peace but to beat the living hell out of players. The result of giving in to a moment of impulse was painfully obvious.

"I clearly warned you that raising a hand carelessly would mean total annihilation. That you still did this means you must have been confident."

The cultivator's voice was calm — late Core Formation, not even Foundation Establishment — but the massive spiritual energy roiling around his body looked like a natural disaster.

Actually, Core Formation cultivators could cause natural disasters, so calling it worse than one wasn't wrong.

In the end, I only had one thing left to trust.

"…Auto-Battle."

Out in the field, the chance of becoming a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠prisoner against an NPC was about fifty-fifty. Inside a town or city, that chance went way up — and I was pretty sure the prisoner-related mod was active right now!

Of course. The "maybe" became an "as expected." The moment I triggered Auto-Battle against an overwhelmingly strong enemy, I blacked out — and when I came to, I was naturally bound as a prisoner by spiritual tools.

The spiritual energy flowing through the talismans and tools stuck all over me was no joke. Peel them off and sell them, and I'd probably make real money.

"So this was the hundred-percent prisoner mode, huh."

A mod that put you in prisoner status if you lost an Auto-Battle.

Checking my inventory, the two lower-grade spirit stones left after buying the Dharma Treasure had dropped to one. Worse, every last Normal-to-Magic-grade piece of gear I'd stashed from dungeons was gone — along with all my Rare-grade consumables.

The Unique-and-above equipment I was wearing was fine, so that didn't matter. But losing the consumables I needed to repair my Epic and Unique weapons? That hurt enough to make my chest ache.

In the original game, getting taken prisoner usually just meant loading a save. This mod had originally existed so you wouldn't have to sit through a disgustingly long loading screen followed by an unskippable twenty-something-minute ending credit roll every time you died. No wonder I'd forgotten about it.

"Right… Status Window."

Even in this mess, the combat-experience-mode level-up stood out. I dumped the remaining stat point into Body.

My innate ability — the Status Window — worked just fine. But the spiritual energy I'd built up through slaughter energy wouldn't budge, probably because of the prisoner status.

More precisely, it was circulating inside my body but couldn't be projected outward. If all the spiritual energy inside me had actually vanished, I'd have been worrying about hunger and excretion from basic metabolism first.

My spiritual energy was sealed inside my body. But that didn't mean all these tools and talismans could block my innate ability. Which made things simple.

"Hup."

Just tear them off with raw force. A Body stat of 268 wasn't for decoration. Even without spiritual energy reinforcement, 268 was a number that had long since left human limits in the dust and gone straight into the transcendent.

No matter how much spiritual energy went into making those tools and talismans, they had no answer for overwhelming physical law. Sure, if they were the expensive kind that twisted the laws of reality themselves, maybe — but the junk used to restrain some early Foundation Establishment scrub like me? No way those were that pricey.

"But why throw a prisoner into a dungeon? Are they dumping me here to die?"

I only realized I was inside a dungeon called Seogang's Poison after checking the minimap — but so what? Once you entered a dungeon, you revived even if you died!

Even if the dungeon level looked… a little high!

I was level 133. The entry cutoff showing on the minimap was a full level 200. Meaning Core Formation cultivators and above couldn't even get in, and the dungeon boss was estimated to have enough power to casually one-shot a late Foundation Establishment cultivator.

"Well, yeah. A cultivator who can't even use spiritual energy surviving a place like this? Not happening."

Obviously they'd thrown me in here to die. But wait — this was a dungeon? A place where I, with my Status Window, could grow?

It felt almost too convenient, but whatever.

Confirming a red dot on the minimap slowly approaching me, I shelved the thoughts for later and carefully raised my spiritual energy.

Thinking could wait.

Watching a white-and-green mottled monster that looked like an alien with a dozen-odd legs silently approach, blue spiritual energy blooming around it—

I immediately pulled a weapon from my inventory and charged.

I met the monster's descending foreleg head-on, slamming slaughter energy into it like a counter, and in the same motion brought my Epic-grade greatsword down on the foreleg the impact had frozen in place.

"Fuck."

Disgustingly hard!

I spat the curse as I sheared the entire foreleg clean off — and the recoil made both my wrists feel like they were about to shatter.

I pulled spiritual energy up to heal while simultaneously lifting the greatsword again, aiming for a head bigger than both forelegs combined. I brought it down — but blue spiritual energy formed a shield and completely blocked the blade.

"…Auto-Battle!"

The instant my instincts screamed that I was screwed, I triggered it.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Goddamn piece-of-shit game."

I'd had to run Auto-Battle against a regular monster and still came out looking like shredded meat. The spiritual energy I had left wasn't even enough to properly heal the wounds.

"It's not a living creature, so no recovery…?"

Surprisingly, the regular monster I'd just beaten down wasn't a living being. Something that might have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been fluid or blood had sprayed out, and it had genuinely looked alive and moving — but no slaughter energy came in at all.

The experience was a pathetic trickle, too.

I realized in an instant that this place was so barren of rewards it was embarrassing to even call it a dungeon, and I couldn't help but twist my face into a full scowl.