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Chapter 5 - Chapter 5 - The Price of Foresight

Shen Li didn't hesitate.

Without even glancing at the other options, his gaze locked onto one reward:

[Strengthened Yin Soul II]

This was the only path open to him now.

His body was still too weak. The inner breathing methods of this world were inaccessible. But his soul—his soul was different. Quietly, steadily, it was evolving.

And what he had learned from the simulation disturbed him deeply.

Yin entities, formed from dense resentment and spiritual decay, were feared across the land. Most mortals would lose their minds at the mere sight. Only 1st-grade martial artists had the strength to endure their presence—and even they didn't dare take them lightly.

The next moment—

BOOM.

He felt it.

A swelling within his chest, like a balloon expanding slowly, deliberately. It wasn't pain. It was… clarity.

Thoughts grew sharper. The haze that usually lingered in the corners of his awareness vanished. Sounds became more vivid, his breath quieter, his presence thinner.

His Yin soul had grown.

Shen Li exhaled deeply. "Tch… I thought I could hoard resources quietly for two years, become the county's top looter by year three… but those corrupt officials caught on too fast."

He clenched his fist. "No matter. I'll do it again."

No hesitation. No delay.

He stepped toward the panel and triggered a fresh run.

[Simulation Beginning – Input Years to Sacrifice…][Awaiting Input…]

[Simulation Progressing…]

[You began as a small-time merchant. No one noticed you. No one cared. Your humble trade ventures were dismissed as luck.]

[Armed with knowledge of the future, you quietly stockpiled barley—just weeks before the outer farms were burned by roaming bandits.]

[Two months later, famine struck.]

[Your 600 silver investment became over 1,500 silver. You didn't rush to convert it into gold—you knew better. In times of chaos, silver flowed, but gold rose.]

[Later, you foresaw that corrupt officials would secretly sell the government's emergency stockpile.]

[You didn't approach directly.]

[Instead, you used a third-party front—faceless men who couldn't be traced back to you. You bribed fast, paid discreetly, and moved the stockpile to a hidden wild storehouse.]

[Once the deal was done, you let the news leak.]

[The fallout was swift.]

[The officials you dealt with were stripped of rank. A few innocent underlings were executed for "failing their duties."]

[No one ever found out the true buyer.]

[You, meanwhile, remained hidden behind layers of shadows.]

[By the end of the first year, you had amassed 14 gold coins.]

[People began to whisper your name.]

[They called you lucky. Cunning. Some even accused you of working with the bandits.]

[You didn't care.]

[Plenty of the "righteous" were making quiet deals to keep their homes safe. Hypocrisy was just part of the game.]

[One day, an old name resurfaced.]

Gao Lupeng.

[He came to you personally.]

[With a smug grin and cold eyes, he asked what bandit group you had ties with.]

[You lied.]

["Iron Mammoth Village," you said.]

[A name he would recognize—and fear.]

[He nodded and left.]

[The next night, your safehouse was attacked.]

[You'd been cautious. You had hired three second-grade martial artists and over twenty third-grade guards.]

[Still, you hadn't expected them to lose.]

[The attackers were feral—barbaric and chaotic—not hired blades but wild beasts.]

[Your defenses collapsed.]

[But you had planned for the worst.]

[You triggered your emergency mechanism.]

[A hidden trapdoor opened, and you fled to your secret chamber beneath the base.]

[The invaders lost many men but couldn't find you.]

[With patrols closing in, they were forced to retreat.]

[When you emerged, you slipped away to your forest cabin.]

[But safety was short-lived.]

[Patrol squads tracked you down and dragged you before the city lord.]

Shin Yamo.

[A man of terrifying background—descended from one of the empire's strongest noble families. He'd ruled this province for seven years, and even the strongest clans bent the knee.]

[He asked you a single question.]

"Where are the bandits hiding?"

[You looked into his eyes—and lied again.]

"I don't know."

[Simulation Progressing…]

[Gao Lupeng arrived at the city lord's manor.]

[He testified before Lord Shin Yamo—claiming you had confessed ties to the Iron Mammoth bandits. You had thought Gao Lupeng was a pawn of the bandits.]

[You never imagined he was also working under the city lord.]

[A double agent.]

[Infuriated, you fired back—accusing him of orchestrating the attack on your base. You told the truth: Gao Lupeng had played both sides, sending bandits to strike you while pretending to be loyal.]

[But the governor didn't care.]

["Torture him," he ordered.]

[Before the enforcers approached, you raised your voice.]

"I'll talk. I'll give you their locations."

[You produced a map—marking every bandit base you had learned from your simulations. These weren't fabricated guesses. In the future, these very spots would be publicly exposed during crackdowns. Nothing secret. Nothing sacred.]

[The governor leaned in.]

[And for the first time… Gao Lupeng's expression changed.]

[He requested to be excused. "Urgent business," he claimed.]

[You smirked.]

"He's going to warn the bandits."

[The room turned silent.]

[Normally, even Lord Shin Yamo wouldn't dare touch someone like Gao Lupeng.]

[But today… your information was too valuable.]

"Take them both."

[Both of you were thrown into the dungeon.]

[The city lord moved fast. His soldiers swept the forests. As you predicted, the bandits retaliated—setting the trees ablaze to cover their escape.]

[Casualties were heavy. The county bled.]

[But the outcome was different this time.]

[Three major bandit outposts were destroyed.]

[Several caches of stolen goods and secret tunnels were recovered and turned over to the government.]

[Your intel had reshaped the future.]

[Gao Lupeng was released the next day.]

[But he didn't smile.]

[His eyes were filled with venom.]

"I hope we meet again," he hissed, voice slithering like a snake.

[You said nothing.]

[The next morning, a visitor came to your cell.]

[An old man. Snow-white hair. Wrinkled face. But he moved with an air of quiet strength.]

[He sat with ease. Spoke calmly. Polite, even kind.]

[You talked about many things—trade, war, history.]

[Eventually, the conversation drifted to betrayal.]

[The old man's gaze sharpened.]

"Why did you betray them?"

[You met his eyes without hesitation.]

"I serve no one. I follow information. That's my business. What I know, no one else can."

[A pause.]

[The old man exhaled. Slowly.]

"It doesn't matter whether you admit it or not," he said, his voice turning to steel.

"Betrayal is betrayal. And I do not forgive betrayal."

[You suddenly recognized him.]

Song Bu.

[The strongest first-grade martial artist in the entire county.]

[Before you could react—his palm struck.]

[A single blow to your chest.]

The last thing Shen Li saw was the imprint of a palm—deep, clean, burned into his chest like a divine brand.

So this… is the power of a 1st grade martial artist.

He didn't even feel pain.

Just cold.

Then—

[Death Event: Soul Detached]

[Post-Death Sequence Initiated][Cause of Soul Persistence: Dungeon Yin Saturation | No Exposure to Sunlight | High Emotional Residue]

[Year 2 – Sensory Awareness]You began to notice sounds. Faint shapes. Cracks in stone. Shuffling feet.You had no thoughts, no self. But you saw. You heard. You existed.

Like an infant staring at a world too big to name.

[Year 3 – Hunger of the Dead]You felt it: the fading.Your soul was unraveling. Yin energy leaked from your body faster than it could be gathered.You tried—blind, groping—to hold it. To store it. But you were still just an echo. A shell.

[Year 4 – Cracks of Awareness]A flicker.You remembered… barley. Oil. Silver. Gao Lupeng.Your instincts sharpened. But you lacked the strength to act. Your soul shimmered faintly with will—but had no vessel.

[Year 5 – Waning Spark]You felt it: discomfort, erosion, dissolution.Even without conscious thought, your soul whimpered.You wandered aimlessly—like wind in a tomb. The shape of your soul thinned like paper.

And then—

[Simulation Terminated – Five-Year Timeline Ended]

🟢 Primary Reward #1 – Body

▢ [Age 18 Body]Physically healthy, high endurance from warehouse labor and heavy supply logistics.Steady hands, merchant discipline, and moderate combat readiness.

🔵 Primary Reward #2 – Knowledge

▢ [Merchant Schemes & Supply Chain Intelligence]Mastery of famine prediction, corruption patterns, and bandit economy forecasting.Includes techniques in covert food transport, black market dynamics, and building hidden safehouses.

🟣 Bonus Reward – Spiritual

▢ [Strengthened Yin Soul – Layer II]Your soul structure has been refined.You now retain clear memory, stable thought, and partial resistance to light.You have stepped deeper into the domain of ghost cultivation.

🟠 Item Reward

▢ [Engraved Bronze Pendant]Taken from the corpse of a captured bandit lieutenant.Radiates subtle Yin resonance. Inert to mortals—may react to spiritual or ghost-based techniques.

Shen Li once again chose: [Strengthened Yin Soul].

The moment he did, he felt it.

A familiar swelling in his spirit—like a balloon slowly inflating within his chest. But this time, the growth was sluggish. He could sense resistance.

A quiet tension.

Something deep within his soul tugged—tight and heavy—like a sealed gate pressed against by wind. He was approaching a threshold. The edge of something greater.

It wasn't just growth anymore.

It was transformation.

A door stood before him.

Invisible, yet undeniable.

One step forward, and his soul might evolve beyond mortality—beyond life and death. He could feel it. The precipice between Heaven and Earth.

But he also felt the truth behind it:

That door… was not easily opened.

And perhaps—just perhaps—it was never meant to open at all.

Shen Li took a deep breath.

"For this week, that's enough adventure," he muttered to himself. "The path is clear now. At least for the next month, I can rely on my money-making tactics without raising suspicion."

He wasn't wrong.

No one cared about a quiet young man who dealt in barley and candles. He kept his profile low, face forgettable, voice mild. His neighbors only knew him as "that polite boy who always pays on time."

Every morning, Shen Li rose before dawn.

He walked the same route through the lower market, where the vendors barely looked up from their wares. He stopped by the same tea stall, listened to idle gossip, and always left a coin for the old vendor's sick grandson.

Then, the real work began.

Behind closed doors, Shen Li wasn't idle. His ledger grew thicker by the day—inked with predictions, supply estimates, and patterns of trade. He tracked everything: what sold fastest after a bandit raid, which merchants complained about shortages, how fast the city gates opened after a fire in the west.

He stockpiled where others hesitated. Simple things: rope, vinegar, barley, lamp oil.

A week later, a neighboring county's granary burned. Prices jumped. Shen Li's slow trickle of sales doubled overnight.

He sold modestly. Always modestly.

After the initial success of his trades, Shen Li made his next move.

He rented a property—a modest storefront near the trade quarter, nothing luxurious, but just isolated enough and with enough space behind the walls to develop.

It wasn't the location that made him choose it.

It was the layout.

Stone foundation. Two exits. A back alley with no traffic. Most importantly, it could be modified.

Traps. Hidden compartments. Escape tunnels.

The last simulation had taught him something crucial—even the governor can come for your head.

No matter how careful, how quiet, how smart… all it took was one wrong move, one jealous rival, or one manipulative snake like Gao Lupeng, and it could all end in a cold, damp dungeon.

Never again.

This time, he laid the groundwork for a "Plan B." He began scouting the forests outside the city—mapping a small area near the hills. Just a few hours on foot. It wouldn't raise suspicion.

There, in secret, he dug the beginnings of a second base.

A buried cache. A hidden cabin, camouflaged by trees and silence. Documents, silver, preserved food, maps—anything a man might need to vanish and start over in another county with a new name.

Life, Shen Li knew, was more important than wealth. More important than revenge. More important than pride.

"I can always rebuild," he murmured once, as he buried a box of silver beneath the cabin floor. "But only if I'm alive."

His face, under the moonlight, was calm.

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