Parallel World: Dungeons Galore
Chapter 27 Are You a Cultivator?
Han Ya didn’t know that Chen’an’s hearing had also been enhanced along with his Agility. She muttered the words under her breath, but they reached his ears, making him even more confused.
Could it be that his teacher was having some incredibly inappropriate thoughts about him? He was 18 years old-it wasn’t as if he could push everything to her and get away scot-free. He glanced at Han Ya’s exquisite face and graceful figure. Might be worth it, though.
Just as Chen’an was becoming lost in thought, the system’s voice sounded.
[Congratulations on activating the task of this strange encounter: become Han Ya’s disciple, and you stand to earn several special achievements. ]
[Note: The points obtained from special achievements are 10 times that of regular achievements. Please cherish every one.]
That alone was enough to entice Chen’an.
But there was one thing he didn’t understand: how was he supposed to become Han Ya’s disciple? And in what sense?
Han Ya was now a first-year teacher, just like how she had taught Chen’an in his first year of high school. When you looked at it that way, he supposed she could pass for his ‘master’.
But the system hadn’t indicated that his task had been completed, so that wasn’t it. Maybe they were referring to what a student-master dynamic traditionally entailed-a relationship in which both parties would share weal and woe, to be treated as seriously as that of a parent to their child.
Chen’an weighed the stakes carefully.
Why was Han Ya the only one-out of all the teachers he had met-who had triggered this task? Even the system had labeled the encounter ‘strange’, and Chen’an couldn’t help but ponder what it meant.
Ever since being planted in this parallel reality, he had been trying to pinpoint something distinctive about this world-if it contained grand secrets about martial arts or one’s Qi. Unfortunately, the results of his internet searches had been nothing but mundane. The chances of supernatural individuals lurking in this world were low; even if they existed, they must be rare and hidden from the rest of society.
But his current task gave Chen’an a different idea.
This might be a rare opportunity for him to interact with people with extraordinary abilities!
With the system’s help, even if a supernatural side to this world really existed, he should be able to handle it.
Chen’an made up his mind. But first, he had some questions for Han Ya.
“Ms Han,”
She cut him off. “We’re done. You can leave now.”
Chen’an floundered. “Weren’t you just… feeling my muscles earlier?” Already, he had crafted a narrative in his head about Han Ya as the hero’s source of temptation; the greatest threat to his purity.
Han Ya looked at him like he was intolerably stupid. “I was just curious how a regular student like you could have outran Pan Yuguan. I thought you had practiced before, but your legs are quite soft.”
Cracks were beginning to appear in the image he had crafted of Han Ya. Could she have been using curiosity as an excuse to take advantage of him?
Now she was calling him soft after only squeezing him twice. Didn’t she know that men sometimes took longer to harden?
A flicker passed over Han Ya’s expression-there and then gone. “You must be joking,” she said, smiling. “What do I need a disciple for? Run along now.”
Chen’an hadn’t missed her microexpression, though; the system wasn’t lying to him.
Han Ya really was something special!
The realization thrilled Chen’an. From the look in her eyes earlier, he had even thought of what he would say when he unlocked his full supernatural potential.
If she wasn’t going to give in, he had no choice but to use his ultimate move.
He turned his gaze to her desk. It was empty except for a computer and a stationery holder containing several pens and a penknife-as expected of a gym teacher’s desk. He seized the penknife.
Before she could blink, he had extended the blade and gently sliced it across the back of his hand.
“Dammit.” No sign of blood.
He slit the penknife across his skin-without mercy this time-and beads of blood flowed out. He gave a hiss of pain. He might have gone a little overboard there.
(You have attacked yourself. Your current Lifeblood: -3. You have entered a state of bleeding lasting 3 seconds. In this state, your Lifeblood will decrease by 1 drop per second.]
One drop was the lowest possible level of damage; token resistance, nothing more. He doubted it would kill him-he thought.
A shocked Han Ya snatched the penknife from him as he was grimacing. “What are you doing?” she demanded. “This penknife is rusty! What if your cut gets infected?”
Chen’an froze. He hadn’t considered that.
But he had achieved his objective.
He showed the back of his hand to Han Ya. Ignoring her bewildered stare, he said, “Ms Han, I should let you know: I’m really a one-in-a-million prodigy. I can completely heal this wound by gym class two days later-at most. I don’t think most people have the ability to heal themselves so quickly, do they?”
He could drink a health potion to heal his wound now, if he wanted, but he didn’t dare, so he had to extend the deadline till Tuesday.
The shock on Han Ya’s face had faded. Chen’an’s wound wasn’t serious, but it was unlikely that it would finish healing by Tuesday. By then, he would be nursing a scab at best.
“Healed, you say? Not scabbing?”
He gave her a nod of confirmation.
Her face turned serious. “If you can heal yourself by Tuesday, I’ll take you in as my disciple.”
Chen’an’s face lit up. He walked to Han Ya’s side and whispered in her ear, “Ms Han, are you a cultivator?” Do you possess knowledge of how to wield ice and fire? Or the powers of Heaven? Will you teach me how to move mountains and drain the seas, or how to control a magical blade?”
Han Ya cast him a quizzical look.
Chapter 33: Are You a Cultivator?
Han Ya didn’t know that Chen’an’s hearing had also been enhanced along with his Agility. She muttered the words under her breath, but they reached his ears, making him even more confused.
Could it be that his teacher was having some incredibly inappropriate thoughts about him? He was 18 years old-it wasn’t as if he could push everything to her and get away scot-free. He glanced at Han Ya’s exquisite face and graceful figure. Might be worth it, though.
Just as Chen’an was becoming lost in thought, the system’s voice sounded.
[Congratulations on activating the task of this strange encounter: become Han Ya’s disciple, and you stand to earn several special achievements. ]
[Note: The points obtained from special achievements are 10 times that of regular achievements. Please cherish every one.]
That alone was enough to entice Chen’an.
But there was one thing he didn’t understand: how was he supposed to become Han Ya’s disciple? And in what sense?
Han Ya was now a first-year teacher, just like how she had taught Chen’an in his first year of high school. When you looked at it that way, he supposed she could pass for his ‘master’.
But the system hadn’t indicated that his task had been completed, so that wasn’t it. Maybe they were referring to what a student-master dynamic traditionally entailed-a relationship in which both parties would share weal and woe, to be treated as seriously as that of a parent to their child.
Chen’an weighed the stakes carefully.
Why was Han Ya the only one-out of all the teachers he had met-who had triggered this task? Even the system had labeled the encounter ‘strange’, and Chen’an couldn’t help but ponder what it meant.
Ever since being planted in this parallel reality, he had been trying to pinpoint something distinctive about this world-if it contained grand secrets about martial arts or one’s Qi. Unfortunately, the results of his internet searches had been nothing but mundane. The chances of supernatural individuals lurking in this world were low; even if they existed, they must be rare and hidden from the rest of society.
But his current task gave Chen’an a different idea.
This might be a rare opportunity for him to interact with people with extraordinary abilities!
With the system’s help, even if a supernatural side to this world really existed, he should be able to handle it.
Chen’an made up his mind. But first, he had some questions for Han Ya.
“Ms Han,”
She cut him off. “We’re done. You can leave now.”
Chen’an floundered. “Weren’t you just… feeling my muscles earlier?” Already, he had crafted a narrative in his head about Han Ya as the hero’s source of temptation; the greatest threat to his purity.
Cracks were beginning to appear in the image he had crafted of Han Ya. Could she have been using curiosity as an excuse to take advantage of him?
Now she was calling him soft after only squeezing him twice. Didn’t she know that men sometimes took longer to harden?
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“I think you may be underestimating the full potential of my body, Ms Han.” He paused. “Also, if you happen to be looking for a disciple, I think I’m more than up to it.”A flicker passed over Han Ya’s expression-there and then gone. “You must be joking,” she said, smiling. “What do I need a disciple for? Run along now.”
Chen’an hadn’t missed her microexpression, though; the system wasn’t lying to him.
Han Ya really was something special!
The realization thrilled Chen’an. From the look in her eyes earlier, he had even thought of what he would say when he unlocked his full supernatural potential.
If she wasn’t going to give in, he had no choice but to use his ultimate move.
He turned his gaze to her desk. It was empty except for a computer and a stationery holder containing several pens and a penknife-as expected of a gym teacher’s desk. He seized the penknife.
Before she could blink, he had extended the blade and gently sliced it across the back of his hand.
“Dammit.” No sign of blood.
He slit the penknife across his skin-without mercy this time-and beads of blood flowed out. He gave a hiss of pain. He might have gone a little overboard there.
(You have attacked yourself. Your current Lifeblood: -3. You have entered a state of bleeding lasting 3 seconds. In this state, your Lifeblood will decrease by 1 drop per second.]
One drop was the lowest possible level of damage; token resistance, nothing more. He doubted it would kill him-he thought.
A shocked Han Ya snatched the penknife from him as he was grimacing. “What are you doing?” she demanded. “This penknife is rusty! What if your cut gets infected?”
Chen’an froze. He hadn’t considered that.
But he had achieved his objective.
He showed the back of his hand to Han Ya. Ignoring her bewildered stare, he said, “Ms Han, I should let you know: I’m really a one-in-a-million prodigy. I can completely heal this wound by gym class two days later-at most. I don’t think most people have the ability to heal themselves so quickly, do they?”
The shock on Han Ya’s face had faded. Chen’an’s wound wasn’t serious, but it was unlikely that it would finish healing by Tuesday. By then, he would be nursing a scab at best.
“Healed, you say? Not scabbing?”
He gave her a nod of confirmation.
Her face turned serious. “If you can heal yourself by Tuesday, I’ll take you in as my disciple.”
Chen’an’s face lit up. He walked to Han Ya’s side and whispered in her ear, “Ms Han, are you a cultivator?” Do you possess knowledge of how to wield ice and fire? Or the powers of Heaven? Will you teach me how to move mountains and drain the seas, or how to control a magical blade?”
Han Ya cast him a quizzical look.
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