Data-Driven Daoist

Chapter 5: No Next Time!

“Never knew there were this many people in the city,” Li Yao said, gesturing at the long line. “Ain’t no way that guy is under twenty-one. Wait, hold the—that’s the swindler Old Dog Black! He’s middle-aged—”

“You dare deceive me so blatantly?” the cultivator said to the swindler.

“My lord—” Old Dog Black grinned, rubbing his hands together “—bein’ an immortal’s been a long dream of—”

The cultivator slashed out with his palm, and Old Dog Black’s head flew into the sky, accompanied by terrified screams of fear. The girl next in line to Old Dog Black fainted.

“To even attempt to deceive me is to ask for death. You, mortal, clean up the mess.”

A guard dragged Old Dog Black’s body away. Before a minute had even passed, the line shrank by a third.

“Serves him right,” Li Yao cackled. “That guy had no mercy. Whether woman or children, he would—”

Li Yao’s voice droned into the background. He kept talking even when someone from the crowd threw him a letter tied to a rock.

Why is this brat being so friendly suddenly? Yu Han’s head grew groggier, but he forced himself awake. This was nothing, just a little pain. What was it compared to all those all-nighters doing his Ph.D.?

The day neared afternoon, and the last candidate touched the orb.

No light.

“Disperse.” The cultivator’s voice echoed, and no one dared to stay. The central square became empty in record time.

Only two boys had passed the test after, both with Common Talent, and both were glaring murderously at Yu Han.

“You, come here,” the cultivator said to one of them, a buff teen with a curly stubble. This one had been glaring murder at the cultivator too. He was the kid the guards had dragged in for the test.

“That insolent man, what was he to you?” the cultivator asked.

The buff teen didn’t reply for a long time, gritting his teeth so hard cracking sounds rang out.

Insolent man? Come to think of it, he does resemble Bushy Beard a bi—

“My brother,” he said finally.

Yu Han wanted to run up to whatever god or game developer was setting up this scenario and give him a piece of his mind.

“The way of a true cultivator is to root out karmic ill-will by the ninth bloodline.” The cultivator unsheathed his sword and placed it at the teen’s neck. “Tell me one reason I should keep you alive.”

“Are you afraid I’ll kill you one day?!” the teen screamed, unable to hold it in. “You, and you!” He pointed at the cultivator, then at Yu Han. “I’ll fucking kill both of—”

The cultivator snapped his finger, and the teen passed out.

“Has guts, this one. The Stormy Reef Sect has use for such fodder. Junior Brother Sima, take him to the ship. Does he have family?”

“My lord—” the guard commander’s son started, but Sima Yan stopped him.

“Their parents died of old age many years ago.”

“No wife?”

“The brother was the type to spend all his salary on brothel flowers.”

“Fine. I’ll give you mercy, but your debt grows, Junior Brother,” the cultivator said. “And you, big one.”

At least he’s not fat-shaming me… I used to do that too. Damn game devs. Yu Han forced himself up. “Sir, please give me orders.”

“The ship has a mortal doctor. Get yourself treated. Your life belongs to the sect now. All of yours. Understood?”

Yu Han, Sima Yan, Sima Yan’s lackey, the pig-tailed girl, Li Yao, and the remaining boy with a head shaved like a monk, all nodded.

Jie Tong hadn’t shown up, even at the end. Finally, the guards had done something useful.

***

The ship was a wooden behemoth, overshadowing all other vessels at the port. Its hull was dark, with swirling patterns on the planks polished to a sheen, and towering masts piercing the sky. The figurehead, an azure dragon coiling around a trident, gleamed with sapphire eyes. Chinese calligraphy lined the edges, faintly glowing in the midday sun, along with ornate cannons larger than any Yu Han had seen.

Yu Han stepped aboard. The deck was wide, with rows of kids who all bowed the moment the cultivator set foot aboard. They should all be younger than twenty-one. Surprisingly, no one appeared to be under fifteen. Aren't pre-teens qualified for cultivation?

“We greet Senior Brother Qiao Jinhai!”

They scattered, some practising martial arts, others meditating. More chatted among themselves, clumped up in small groups. All appraised Yu Han and the new arrivals.

To the left, a grand staircase led below deck. He followed it down, finding the mess hall filled with long tables; the clatter of chopsticks echoed with slurps and gulps. The kitchen was there too, and through a side door, the living quarters. Yu Han noted both for later.

Farther down, the barracks. He moved aft, reaching the training hall on the same level, a spacious area with weapon racks lining the walls. There was no steel, though—all wood.

“Excuse me, Senior Brother. Do you know where the doctor is?” Yu Han asked the person who had the gentlest-looking face among those training.

“Polite guy, aren’t you? One down. It’s a room marked with a green ginseng.”

“Gratitudes.”

The doctor was an old man wearing a peculiar robe—the same robe the individuals who had been serving food to the youths in the mess hall wore. Same as those cleaning the ship deck.

Mortals? Servants? Slaves?

“My word, lad, how are you still standing? Even the starting Heavenly Allocation shouldn’t be—hold still, fool!” the doctor said. He dipped a silver rod into a blue concoction bubbling in a cauldron, applied the glue-like liquid to a cloth patch, then stuck it on Yu Han’s nose.

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It stung like crazy. And oh, the smell! Sharp and acrid, like burning rubber mixed with rotting garlic. Yu Han gagged and his eyes watered, but the blurry vision didn’t hamper the “status screen,” or whatever it was.

Name: Yu Han (Johan)

Level: 0

True Qi: 0/110

Pure Qi: 50/110

[Body Origin: 5.00]

[Spirit Origin: 7.80]

[Mind Origin: 10.80]

All he had to do was think “status.” He tried other phrases, too; system, menu, stats, and even hello, bot, Jarvis. As long as the intention was there, it seemed to work with any phrase.

After he had come ashore, there was a system message about Pure Qi and Endurance, but when he touched the orb and the larger screen appeared, nothing about Endurance was there.

He concentrated on the Pure Qi word. There was a feeling of half fullness, but nothing else.

He then concentrated on Body Origin.

[Body Origin: 5.00]

Endurance: 6

Vitality: 6

Strength: 4

Agility: 4

Dexterity: 5

The Body Origin had a decimal, while the rest didn’t. Are these substats? Are they high or low?

Yu Han patted his tummy.

It. Fucking. Wiggled.

His Instagram model ex had left him for a short, fat janitor who cleaned the gym they worked out at. He made less than 1% in a year of what Johan did in a month. The guy had apparently “treated her right.”

After the breakup, he used to call that guy a “half-foot tubby.” It was petty jealousy. After Johan got boo’ed out of the gym by the gym-bros, he had pulled some strings to get the janitor fired.

Maybe this was karma.

Now he was the half-foot tubby.

From a hundred and eighty-five centimetres with a Greek god body to… this.

Yu Han held in his tears. What the hell is this? The green meteor, that hooded freak. Dad… Father. Who am I even? Johan? Yu Han?

He concentrated on the other two origin stats.

[Mind Origin: 10.80]

Intelligence: 13

Memory: 15

Perception: 10

Clarity: 7

Focus: 9

[Spirit Origin: 7.80]

Adaptability: 15

Magnitude: 5

Density: 6

Fortitude: 8

Purity: 5

“Whoa,” Yu Han exclaimed.

“Hold it in, young man,” the old man said. “It won’t hurt for long.”

“T-Thanks,” Yu Han said.

His Mind Origin stat was particularly high, the only one higher than 10. Spirit Origin wasn’t bad, with a high Adaptability substat. These were substats, right?

Should I ask someone? Better not. He didn’t know if this system status screen was a unique cheat, or if others had it too.

Li Yao mentioned seeing floating words.

Adaptability and Memory were his highest, both at 15. His Intelligence was 13 too.

Yu Han grinned. He knew it was an ego boost, but if only he could show his ex this screen… She didn’t have high regards for his brains. They used to fight day and night about this. Even after all the time and money he invested in her career, she wanted to drag Johan to some crappy “‘emotional intelligence”’ therapy sessions.

Johan didn’t need a therapist to tell him he was smart. This was a matter of reputation. “Mean Johan needed band-aids for his feelings cause his girlfriend said so, boo-hoo!”

God forbid… What would his friends say if they found out? He would be laughed out of their mahjong club.

Last he heard, she was married to that fat guy.

Bitch.

Yu Han’s mood fell. He tinkered with the numbers in his mind. The “Origins” were primaries, perhaps. They seemed to be some kind of… mean? Median?

No, they are mean values. Unless they are weighted averages with all the weights being the same? Yu Han had been burned by data before, so he always double-checked the mean. He’d had one too many hard lessons trusting them as they were. These buggers might appear unweighted at first glance, but before he knew it, the weights would change after more data was added and suddenly the company would have a six million dollar blunder. If he didn’t blame the entire ordeal on ‘poor teamwork’ and ‘a lack of communication’, that would have been it for him.

It was less stressful for Yu Han to think of them as weighted averages with equal weights, not just an innocent, unweighted mean.

What are the weights? He needed a pen and paper.

Yu Han then concentrated on the Traits and Arts.

Traits:

[Existential Anchor]

Grade: Mortal Level 1

True Qi: Requirements Not Satisfied

[Deep Writhing Clam Bloodline]

Grade: Mortal Level 10

True Qi: 0/1100

[Qi Affinity]

Grade: Mortal Level 7

True Qi: 0/800

Arts:

[Deep Sleep]

Type: Bloodline

Grade: Mortal Level 1

Mastery: Initial Step Level 1

True Qi: 0/200

What the hell was True Qi? Why were there no Pure Qi?

Traits didn’t have mastery, while Arts did. His Deep Writhing Clam Bloodline trait was at Mortal Grade, Level 10. The rest had different levels. Does that mean he could level up? The VRMMO theory was getting stronger by the second.

And…

“Requirements not satisfied…” Yu Han muttered. This was the Trait the cultivator couldn’t see.

“No big movements, and don’t get your nose wet, you hear me? It’s going to leave a scar unless you get an elixir. Take this pill for three days and sleep,” the old man said, then kicked him out of the room.

Yu Han stood in front of the door, stroking his chin. “What requirements?”

Asking the cultivator was risky. After all, how could he “dare?” He liked his head on his neck. The guy wouldn’t even explain what a Bloodline was.

It was like those junk food Xianxia stories. Sects were supposed to be educational institutions, but they hoarded knowledge like paid journals.

Yu Han made his way back to the deck. In the mess hall, he asked one of those robed waiters if he could take some food.

“Y-Yes, lord. All these are for you cultivators!”

“Do you have red chilli powder?” There was a girl slurping down a stew that oozed red fumes. It gave Yu Han an idea.

The waiter gaped, then nodded.

“Can you bring me some?”

Yu Han got a fried dough stick and a few small pouches of red chilli powder.

He ate on the deck; the ship had set sail. The city folks beat drums and blew Chinese flutes and trumpets. Was it a grand farewell, or were they saying good riddance? The cultivator was like a calamity, after all. That old shopkeeper’s words rang in his ears.

Bad for business.

Yu Han kept his distance from the other recruits, and no one approached.

Did Dad hear about the meteor? He would cry, even if none of his other siblings would.

Would they? They didn’t like him, but they never said they hated him. He had six siblings in his life as Johan. They would take care of Dad. They were better humans.

Yu Han had one sister, married to a travelling merchant. How would she react when the news of what happened to their parents and eldest brother reached her?

“You crazy son of a bitch,” a voice said from behind.

Li Yao patted Yu Han’s back, then held him in a bear hug. “You nasty motherfucker!” His laughter boomed. “Take your hand off that dagger, tubs. This father, Li Yao, isn’t an ingrate like the guards.”

“You want my money again?”

Li Yao spat over the ship’s edge. “You tricked me good. Go to your family’s diner at night? Hah, don’t blame you.”

“Why did you give me the coins back?”

“You gave me food once. For free. Damn, was I starving. I ate my shoes.”

“Ah…” Yu Han sometimes gave leftovers away to those who couldn’t pay. His parents praised his virtues. It disgusted the Johan part of him, but maybe this kind of thing wasn’t totally useless.

“If it weren’t for your tantrum, we non-fancy kids would never get the chance to test our talents either. Now look at me, a ‘Refined Talent!’ Did you see the look on Sima Yan’s face?”

“It was a coincidence.”

“I know. I thought you were naïve, giving away food for free. But turns out you’re vicious, and hella smart, tubs. And I like smart people. Tell me if anyone bothers you. This father, Li Yao swears that they’ll have to get through me first.”

“That’s good to hear.” Yu Han’s eyes focused on the river shore.

“What are you looking at?” Li Yao followed his gaze.

There was a hooded person. It wasn’t his parents’ murderer, but it was someone he knew. Behind the young man was a horse, on which hung a girl, bandaged from head to toe and covered in rags. Even her eyes were bandaged, with red blood leaking out. Was she dead?

The youth removed his hood. Bruised, battered, he shed tears of blood. His mouth opened.

Yu Han couldn’t hear him. It was too far. But he knew what the youth, Jie Tong, said.

“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

Yu Han touched his nose where the patch was. It hurt. The old man said it would leave a scar.

“Come and try, asshole,” Yu Han said back. He’d be ready.