What? System Wants Me To Steal MILFs To Become Stronger!

Each breath was a tidal wave of agony that rippled through his body, his chest heaving as if torn apart by invisible chains.

His cultivation, refined to the middle stages of Body Strengthening, had granted him an impressive physique, tempered by the trials of battle and years of arduous training.

Yet, these injuries had thrown his Qi into chaos, the energy surging uncontrollably through his meridians, wreaking havoc instead of bringing healing.

Blood and Qi stormed inside him like a whirlpool, tearing at his inner organs, devouring what little strength he had left.

With every heartbeat, he felt himself slipping further into darkness.

I cannot continue like this. His mind screamed in desperation.

If he didn’t rest, if he didn’t take his healing pills, the internal damage would spread.

Permanent damage to his blocked meridians would be inevitable, making future cultivation impossible.

Becoming a cripple in this world of cultivation — where the weak were prey, and the strong devoured — was a fate worse than death.

A shiver crept down his spine as the terrifying thought took root, only adding to his desperation.

That monster would find me soon! There’s no escaping him!

If he kept running, his life would end in a moment of unthinkable humiliation.

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No, I had to stop, to recover, even if for just a moment!

His mind spun in frantic circles, clinging to the last threads of hope.

Perhaps… perhaps Lucian would see bigger picture!

After all, in the world of cultivation, bonds were as fragile as eggshell, easily shattered by ambition and greed.

Even blood ties held little meaning in the pursuit of absolute power.

But, If he made the right offer… Lucian might spare him.

Power was everything. If he could offer Lucian something — a chance at transcendence, an opportunity to reach heights that would make even a son betray his father — perhaps his life could be spared.

With trembling hands, he collapsed against the trunk of a gnarled tree.

His breath came in shallow gasps, and every ounce of his body screamed in pain, yet he couldn’t focus on that now.

Survive! I must survive!

Drawing a short blade from his side, he rested it on his lap, prepared to defend himself if needed.

His hand reached into his pouch, fingers trembling as he retrieved a first-tier high-grade healing pill.

The pill was pure-white, with a single mark on top of it.

He slipped it into his mouth, feeling the bitter taste dissolve quickly on his tongue.

A wave of warmth spread through his body as the pill’s medicinal properties began to mend the torn muscles and shattered bones within him.

But it wasn’t enough.

"This place is cursed," he muttered through clenched teeth while healing.

His eyes flickered with frustration, "there’s no spiritual energy here. I can’t even use a movement talisman. Otherwise I would’ve left long ago. Damm it."

A cold voice sliced through the silence.

"Spiritual energy? Talisman?" The voice was cold and sharp as a blade, "what are these?"

His heart skipped a beat.

His body froze, eyes slowly lifting upward to find Lucian standing before him, cloaked in shadow.

His robes were drenched in blood, splattered violently across his figure, yet not a single drop belonged to him.

The crimson stains only enhanced the eerie glow in his eyes, cold and merciless, reflecting no trace of humanity.

The man’s voice trembled as he hurried to explain, "Luci— S-senior brother Lucian..."

Lucian’s gaze pierced through the man, his crimson eyes sharp and unyielding. "Explain this Spiritual Energy to me," he commanded.

"Ye... yes... Spiritual Energy is the Essence of the world that we absorb to cultivate, to strengthen our physical body and soul. It’s how we grow stronger."

He didn’t dare lie or even hesitate to respond.

The arrogance he once carried, the confidence that had filled his voice, had crumbled entirely.

Now, all that remained was fear — pure, suffocating fear.

Lucian’s expression remained as still as stone.

Lucian’s expression remained as still as stone, his gaze unwavering.

"Interesting," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with dark curiosity, "So... did that swordsman create fire out of nowhere using this Spiritual Energy?"

"No... Th-that’s a low-grade attacking talisman inscribed in a special paper," the man stammered, "it doesn’t require much spiritual energy, so even a mortal can use it with the energy already stored within the talisman."

Even though it was his first time hearing such a thing in both his lifetimes, the notion of a simple piece of paper holding such devastating power intrigued him.

Lucian tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharp as it bore into the man’s soul, "and what about these movement talismans you speak of?"

"H-high grade movement talisman uses natural energy," the man continued, feeling his heart hammer in his chest, "without spiritual energy in the surroundings, they can’t be used. They’re inert."

"Why so?"

"M-movement talismans, for example, rely on spatial rules, and they need spiritual energy to supplement the activation," his body trembled, but he still forced himself to speak, his voice barely a whisper.

"If the person who activated a movement talisman can’t supply enough Spiritual Energy, it will absorb that excessive energy from the nature. So without natural energy... they’re useless."

"A person like me without stepping into Qi Gathering realm, it’s impossible to use it in this motal island where there’s no Spiritual energy!"

Lucian’s gaze deepened, crimson eyes flickering with an unknown light.

’There’s much I still don’t understand about this new world.’

The man swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay calm despite the overwhelming pressure emanating from Lucian’s presence.

His mind raced, searching for a way out of this perilous situation.

"Senior Brother Lucian," he began, his voice shaky, but trying to maintain some semblance of composure, "this... this is just common knowledge in the world of cultivation. Without spiritual energy, it’s... it’s uncomfortable for the great cultivators to stay in such places."

"They can’t recover their strength naturally. That’s why they send small cultivators at the Body Strengthening stage like us into cursed lands like these, to temper our bodies, to gain experience in harsh conditions."

"No one here on these mortal islands will pose a threat to us, e-except for the disciples from other sects," he stammered, glancing nervously around.

"But there’s a rule against killing other sect members in places like this, so we don’t dare to attack each other. A-and if we discover any promising seeds for cultivation, we can earn rewards by recommending them to the sect, just like your brother Julius."

His voice trembled with a mixture of apprehension and urgency, desperately trying to emphasize the potential benefits.

He paused, gauging Lucian’s expression. Those crimson eyes remained unmoving, like twin vortexes pulling him into the abyss.

"But if... if I die here, the sect would surely investigate," he continued, a bead of sweat tracing down his brow. "The elders would-"

Lucian’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing within them.

His voice was low, a whisper that sent chills down the man’s spine, "are you threatening me?"

"N-no! No, senior brother, I wouldn’t dare!" the man stammered, his heart pounding in his chest.

His words tumbled out faster, desperate to explain, "I... I’m only trying to give you a reason to reconsider. If the sect finds out I’ve perished here, especially in such a desolate place, they’ll send someone to investigate."

"With no the spiritual energy in this region, any death becomes suspicious. They might think..."

He hesitated, his voice trembling, "they might think someone of other sects was involved."