Chapter Eighty-Eight: A Traditional Skill

In the end, he still did not have to pay.

There was no other reason for it. Simply put, the owner of this chain barbecue restaurant happened to know Chu Zihang, and with a grand wave of his hand, he waived the bills for both of them.

“Did you just want to kill them?” Liu Tian asked abruptly on the way home after dropping Chu Zihang off.

“I did suddenly have that thought,” Chu Zihang admitted without hiding it, nodding. “It’s strange. It doesn’t feel like my own thought, and yet I can’t bring myself to resist it.”

“That’s normal,” Liu Tian said. “Back when I practiced Heavenly Martial Killing Path, I would get that sort of thought from time to time too — like, for example, if I got rid of the antique shop owner, then all those antiques would be mine.”

“Heavenly Martial Killing Path?” Chu Zihang asked curiously. “What is that?”

“A martial art. Something that can give you power very quickly,” Liu Tian said. “Aside from causing a person’s killing intent and tyrannical obsession to surge uncontrollably, there aren’t any other drawbacks. The heavier the killing intent, the stronger the obsession, the better the natural talent, the greater the effect. However, neither the original nor the revised version is really suitable for you. In these next couple of days, I’ll think about how to modify it, then I’ll teach you.”

“Mm,” Chu Zihang responded obediently, showing no sign of asking to speed up her training. Since she had already decided to trade “herself” to Liu Tian in exchange for strength, she would not question any of Liu Tian’s decisions.

After all, Chu Zihang was that kind of person. Once she made up her mind, ten oxen could not drag her back. Even when she had reached the end of the road and smashed headlong into a wall, her first reaction would probably still be to break the wall down and keep going.

“Spend the next couple of days practicing how to hold a blade and how to control your own thoughts,” Liu Tian said, glancing at the knife in Chu Zihang’s hand. “After all, it was something your father left you. It’d be a pity to give up on it.”

“Oh, right — since your father is missing, doesn’t that mean it’s just you and your mother at home now?” Liu Tian suddenly asked, as if something had occurred to him.

“My father and my mother divorced long ago,” Chu Zihang replied. “A few years ago, I got a new ‘dad.’”

The word “dad” was clearly supposed to refer to one’s closest family, yet Chu Zihang spoke it without the slightest trace of feeling, as if she were merely fulfilling some obligation.

“Does your mother have any children with him?” Liu Tian nodded and asked.

“Not now, but maybe later. After all, I’m a girl,” Chu Zihang said faintly, as if discussing something that had nothing to do with her at all. “My mom and my ‘dad’ made an agreement. Aside from all living expenses, five million credit points are deposited into my bank card every year under my name. Until I graduate from college, and when I marry, they’ll also give me a villa and fifteen million as my dowry.”

“Well, that’s a pretty decent man,” Liu Tian remarked. “He’s done all he can. Still, I don’t like him.”

“It’s getting late. You should head back now. Get ready — in a few days, you’ll move out.” Looking at the sky, Liu Tian suddenly said, “Oh, and don’t forget to learn how to cook. I actually don’t really like eating out.”

“Yes!” Chu Zihang nodded and turned toward home.

Liu Tian did not tell her how to prepare, and she did not ask. After all, if she could not even handle something this small, then trading her “self” would be nothing more than a joke.

So then, where should he get some money?

Liu Tian touched the student ID from Shilan High School tucked in his chest and came to a decision.

Ten minutes later, in the slums, an old building long past its prime and splashed with layers of paint.

Several guards covered in tattoos and broad as oxen stood watch downstairs, occasionally seeing people with either pallid faces or expressions full of resentment being escorted inside.

On the old building, a few words had been painted in large letters. Because it had gone so long without repair, they were no longer fully legible, but one could still make out the name of Qian Family Credit.

This was a “good place” with a reputation that extended throughout the slums, famous for fast money and ruthless methods.

Liu Tian arrived just in time. A battered van scraped past him, and a group of people climbed out at once, escorting down a married couple and a young girl.

A burly man smiled broadly as he fondled the wife in front of her husband. The woman, still retaining a trace of her former charm, obviously wanted to resist, but she was immediately slapped hard across the face. Then her head was forced around so she could see the girl beside her, gagged and weeping silently. At once, she no longer put up any struggle.

If it were an ordinary person, seeing this scene would probably make them reconsider their decision. Yet Liu Tian’s eyes instead lit up. He stepped forward, easily bypassed the entangled group, and went upstairs.

The guards did not stop him. Their purpose was, first, to intimidate, and second, to protect — not to block a model student who looked as though he could not even truss a chicken.

What had this student come here for, anyway? The slums were no place for such an upright boy. Could he be here for some kind of adventure? Or...?

Heh, heh, heh!

At the amusing thought, the idle guards could not help but laugh aloud.

“Anyone there?” Following the signs without hindrance, Liu Tian reached the lending office and, controlling his strength, knocked politely on the closed door. “I’m here to borrow some money.”

“Coming, coming!” A clatter of rummaging came from inside. After a good while, a bespectacled man finally opened the door — clearly, he had not expected anyone to come at this hour of midday.

After all, for a company like theirs, business hours were generally in the afternoon and evening, occasionally around midnight, and very rarely at midday.

“You’re the one borrowing money?” Beneath the cover of his glasses, the man discreetly sized up Liu Tian’s clothes. Upon spotting several anti-forgery marks, his eyes lit up. He hurriedly stepped aside. “Come in, come in, young master. How much do you need?”

Liu Tian strode in as though entering his own home, sat down without the slightest hesitation, and the bespectacled man, with impressive tact, quickly turned on the air conditioning while hurrying to pour a cup of hot tea for his potential big client.

“My father has restricted my spending, so I’m short on cash lately. I heard you’re generous here and quick with the transfer, so how much can you lend?” Liu Tian said. “Cut the nonsense. I don’t have time to sit here chatting with you. Tell me a number.”

“Three... no, five...” The bespectacled man seemed never to have seen someone who borrowed money while acting like a grand overlord. He was momentarily stunned. At first he wanted to say three, then five, and only after gritting his teeth did he finally make a decision. “One hundred thousand credit points.”

That was no small sum.

After the Second World War, as conglomerates continued to swell, and after the colossal entity standing at the far north of the planet fell, a global market was established. As time passed, people in every region longed for a form of money that could be exchanged freely, without the constant nuisance of conversion.

Thus, after representatives of the world’s top hundred conglomerates met in Kanger with bankers from private institutions holding the right to issue currency in various countries, and after the Kanger Accord was signed, the world banking system was founded. Backed by gold and material reserves, it began issuing credit points on schedule.

By now, credit points had become so solidly trusted that they had replaced the currencies of all nations and become the world’s common money.

One hundred thousand credit points was roughly equivalent to a white-collar worker’s annual salary, enough to buy one hundred thousand eggs.

But for Liu Tian—

“You’re treating me like a beggar?”

“Well, of course. If there’s collateral, the limit can be higher,” the bespectacled man said, still not angry, rubbing his hands together.

“At minimum I need one million — can this do?” As he spoke, Liu Tian tossed his student ID onto the desk. “Don’t worry, I only need it in a hurry right now. Once my old man unblocks my credit card, I’ll pay you back.”

“If I weren’t worried my dad would find out I’m short on money, I wouldn’t bother coming to you people at all. ‘Quick with the transfer,’ my ass.”

“Well... wait here a moment. I need to go ask.” The bespectacled man picked up the student ID, carefully checked the name and photo on it, and said, “Just a moment. Just one moment.”

“Hurry it up. What a damn hassle.” Fully immersed in the joy of playing a spoiled rich kid, Liu Tian said irritably.

“Right away, right away.” With that, the bespectacled man took the student ID and bowed and scraped his way out, not forgetting to close the door behind him.

Indeed, it was fast. In less than ten minutes, the bespectacled man returned with a handprint on his face and two broad-shouldered, heavily built men. As soon as he came back in, he threw the student ID onto the floor. “You bastard, an orphan from the slums actually dared to fool me. Don’t tell me you don’t know the name Liu Tian has already become famous in these slums as a role model?”

Ah, bad!

Because this had been a spur-of-the-moment idea, Liu Tian had not thought it through carefully at all, and he was caught off guard at once.

“Take this troublemaker down for me. Be careful not to hurt him — a student from Shilan High School is a rare catch.” The bespectacled man smiled darkly. “I, Crazy Bull, will make this role model properly taste pain and learn the consequences of toying with adults!”

“Ah, troublesome.” Watching the burly men close in, Liu Tian scratched his head, then casually picked up the solid wood table and slapped the two of them straight into the wall. “Honestly, if you were a little dumber, you’d be a little luckier.”