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Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: “I Entered a Tournament and My Prize Was ‘Mystic Slap’”

The Rustcloud Sect was buzzing.

Flags flew. Disciples ran around in circles.

One guy lit himself on fire accidentally and called it "Fire Body Cultivation." No one stopped him.

> [System Notification: Mandatory Event Triggered]

Local Tournament: 'Southern Scrub Sect Showdown' begins in 2 hours.

Objective: Represent your sect. Or be mocked by every surrounding village grandma. Your call.

I blinked. "Wait, why me?"

> [Because you accidentally signed the tournament form. You thought it was a hot spring entry waiver.]

"…I really need to read things."

---

Main Arena – Two Hours Later

I stood in the middle of a rickety stage, wearing "Elder Robes" that smelled like pickled cabbage.

My opponent?

Tall. Smug. Muscles like he'd been sculpted by someone who watches too much JoJo.

Name: Han Fei – genius disciple of the neighboring sect Moonlight Edge Pavilion.

> "So… this is Rustcloud's hidden expert?"

"You look like a rejected side character."

I smiled. "I get that a lot."

> [SYSTEM AUTO-ENABLING COMBAT MODE]

Assigning Combat Skill: "Mystic Palm of Endless Slap" (Unranked, Experimental, May Cause Shame)

A card appeared in my hand:

> Skill: Mystic Slap of Supreme Velocity™

Description: You slap your opponent. Really fast. Maybe too fast. Side effects: whiplash, spiritual confusion, public humiliation.

"...This is my secret move?"

> [Would you prefer "Qi Fart of Confusion" instead?]

---

The match started.

Han Fei raised his hand, glowing with sword aura. The crowd gasped.

> "That's Moonlight Sect's signature technique!"

I charged.

Screaming.

Towel flying.

I slapped him across the face.

SLAP!

A perfect handprint appeared on his cheek.

The entire stadium fell silent.

Han Fei blinked. Then blinked again.

> "W-What kind of demonic art is—"

SLAP!

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

I unleashed the full technique—ten slaps per second, each one resonating with my chaotic lack of cultivation. Like divine mosquitos from hell.

The crowd went wild.

> "So fast!"

"So shameful!"

"He's cultivating shame into Dao!"

"I want to be slapped like that—wait, no I don't—wait maybe?"

Han Fei dropped to his knees.

> "P-please… spare my face…"

---

[SYSTEM ALERT]

> You have defeated a Peak Qi Refinement Cultivator with Slap Arts.

Prize: "Ultimate Technique Scroll – ??? Tier"

I grabbed the scroll.

Unrolled it.

> Technique Name: "Mystic Pocket Sand"

Description: Throw sand in enemy's eyes. Bonus effect: none. It's literally sand.

"…What the hell is this, a playground technique?!"

> [Original reward was 'Sky-Shattering Void Sword.' It's been rerouted for internal bidding. You get Pocket Sand. Please understand.]

I threw the scroll in rage. It hit a squirrel. The squirrel became my beast companion out of pity.

---

After the Match

The sect master was weeping.

Mei was clapping in awe.

Somewhere, the Goddess who killed me was facepalming with divine shame.

> [You have been promoted: "Honorary Elder" → "Reluctant Champion."]

Perks: Slightly bigger shack, hot spring privileges reinstated, 10% discount at sect cafeteria (no noodles).

I raised my hands in victory.

Naked. Confused. Armed with slaps and sand.

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