My Auto Cloning System-Chapter 102: The Flying Blade

"Morning, Mr. Gao! Your face is looking as round, shiny, and delicious as a fresh steamed bun today! Business must be booming!" Yin Zhe chirped, flashing a wide, perfectly white, and entirely shameless grin.

Mr. Gao grunted, not even bothering to look up from his cup. (Grunt.) "Just don't break any more of the furniture, Yin Zhe. My insurance policy specifically says it doesn't cover 'accidental sword explosions' ."

Yin Zhe chuckled and waved to the receptionist, a young girl named Mei who was currently losing her battle with sleep behind the counter. (Snore... whistle...) Her head bobbed up and down like a fishing buoy. He stepped out through the back door and into the wide yard of the inn. It was a dusty, and open space filled with a few cracked stone benches, a mossy well, and a single, lonely-looking willow tree that looked like it had seen better centuries. The night air was sharp and cool, and the mist was still clinging to the damp ground like a thick, wet blanket.

He pulled Roaring Tiger from its heavy leather sheath. (SHIIIIIING!) The black blade looked even darker and more predatory in the soft moon light. Yin Zhe stood still for a moment, while thinking back to the life-or-death fight with Lin Xue. She hadn't just swung her sword like a club, the way he did; she had manipulated the very air and temperature around it. She made the frost move as if it were an extension of her own nervous system.

"If that ice-queen can make frozen water fly around like a pet bird, why can't I make this big hunk of 12th-grade metal do the same thing?" Yin Zhe thought, his black irises narrowing into thin slits of focus. "The All Swords Master skill dumped a mountain of knowledge into my brain, but my muscles still need to feel the spiritual connection. I don't want to just throw it like a common spear. I want it to be a part of my soul."

He gripped the hilt with both hands and swung in a massive horizontal arc. (WHOOSH!) The air whistled in protest. He swung again, harder this time, feeling the weight of the steel. (VRRRUM!) He started to circulate his new Stage 8 spirit essence, sending it flowing like liquid fire down his arms and directly into the porous steel of the blade. The sword began to hum. a low, deep-throated vibration that made the skin on his palms itch and burn.

He took aim and threw the sword with all his might at the thick trunk of the willow tree. (Thud!) It hit the wood and simply stuck there, vibrating uselessly like a common woodcutter's axe.

"No, that's garbage. That's just a glorified javelin throw for peasants," he muttered, wiping a thick bead of sweat from his brow. (Huff... huff...) He walked over, yanked the blade out, and tried again. This time, he didn't let go of the "feeling" of the sword as it left his hand. He closed his eyes and imagined his spirit essence wasn't just a fuel, but a long, invisible, and elastic chain connecting his very heart to the pommel of the blade.

He threw it again, but this time he flicked his wrist at the last second. (Whirl!) The sword spun through the misty air, but instead of falling or sticking, Yin Zhe jerked his hand back sharply, mentally pulling on that invisible string of blue essence energy.

The sword wobbled in mid-air. It tilted precariously. Then, with a sudden, sharp (ZOOM!), it defied gravity, curved through the air in a perfect semi-circle, and flew back toward his outstretched hand. He caught the hilt, but the raw kinetic force almost knocked him flat on his back. (Oof! Stumble!)

"Wait. That was it. That's the secret! It's not about muscle or throwing power. It's about the magnetic pull of the spirit essence acting as a tether," he realized. His eyes widened with a wild, manic light. It was like a giant lightbulb going off in his head, and illuminating the path forward. He didn't need lightning or thunder like that Thor guy from the old Earth movies; he had the raw, concentrated density of a Stage 8 Root Awakening essence.

He spent the next four grueling hours dancing in the dirt and mud of the backyard. He threw the sword, made it loop around the mossy well, sent it whistling past the drooping branches of the willow tree, and snapped it back to his palm with a loud, and satisfying (CLACK!). By the time the moon was high in the sky, he was sweating through his shirt, his boots were caked in thick mud, and his face was covered in dust, but his smile was absolutely terrifying. Tomorrow, the Top 25 competition wouldn't know what hit them. He wasn't just bringing a sword to a fight; he was bringing a flying executioner.

He eventually went back inside the inn, his stomach growling and roaring like a hungry mountain beast. (Gurgle! Rummmmble!) After a quick, messy meal of cold noodles and spicy tofu, he locked himself back in his room. He needed more. He needed that extra "edge" that only the mysterious system could provide.

"System! Wake up! Open the shop! I've got reactive points burning a hole in my pocket and a gambling addiction to satisfy!" he shouted at the empty, quiet air of his room.

[Current Reactive Points: 39,412]

[Purchasing 10 Golden Tickets... Cost: 10,000 Points]

[Remaining Points: 29,412]

The blue screen with the elegant golden edges flickered into existence before his eyes. The Skill Slot Machine appeared, its three big reels spinning with colorful icons of soaring dragons, silver moons, bloody swords, and even a weirdly detailed picture of a fish.

"Come on, big money! Papa needs a new pair of combat boots and a skill that breaks the world!" Yin Zhe yelled at the screen. He grabbed the mental lever of the system and pulled it down with a dramatic, over-the-top flourish. (CLACK-CLACK-CLACK-CLACK!) 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

The reels began to spin with a dizzying speed. (Whirrrrrr!) First pull: [Sword] - [Dragon] - [Fish]