As darkness settled over the Jin Clan compound, Tae-Won sat cross-legged on the guest quarters' bed, his eyes closed. The ambient Qi here was indeed far richer than in the slums—he could feel it seeping into his meridians even without active cultivation.

  "Three hours of meditation has pushed me to 20% Body Refinement I," he murmured to himself. "Not bad for one evening."

  He opened his eyes and glanced at the window. The moon hung high—perfect timing for his excursion. The street children would be waiting at the abandoned temple, and Min-Ji's knowledge of the Jin Clan's patrol schedules wouldn't last forever.

  Tae-Won frowned as a new thought occurred to him. "System, I have a concern."

  [System active. Awaiting inquiry.]

  "The Jin Clan disciples and especially the patrolmen are at Foundation Establishment—two full realms above my cultivation. They should be able to sense my Qi signature without difficulty, correct?"

  [Affirmative. Foundation Establishment cultivators can detect Qi signatures within 100 meters under normal conditions.]

  Tae-Won clicked his tongue. "That's problematic. Is there a way to remove or mask my energy signature? Otherwise, I'll be caught the moment I leave this room."

  The System was silent for a moment longer than usual.

  [Initializing Meridian Destruction Protocol...]

  "What? No! That's not what I meant!" Tae-Won hissed in alarm. "I don't want to destroy my meridians! I meant, is there a way to temporarily hide my Qi signature?"

  [Protocol canceled. Apologies for the misunderstanding.]

  Tae-Won exhaled in relief. "So is there another way to conceal my presence from their senses?"

  [Analysis complete. Your Qi signature will completely disappear the minute the user dies.]

  Tae-Won's imperial composure slipped. "Are you joking with me right now?"

  [Affirmative. Humor subroutine engaged.]

  "I didn't realize you had a sense of humor," Tae-Won muttered. "But seriously, what can I actually do about this problem?"

  [Initializing feature: Qi Signature Cloaking. Activation complete.]

  Tae-Won felt a subtle shift in his body, as if his Qi had suddenly withdrawn deeper into his core, becoming impossible to detect from the outside.

  "Woah," he said, surprised. "I didn't know you had a feature like this. Does that mean you can also increase my cultivation speed too?"

  [Negative. My primary purpose is to guide you in this world and to prevent your premature death. I can provide aid but cannot directly enhance your cultivation. You must earn progress through legitimate effort and resources.]

  Tae-Won nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Fair enough. In my previous life, I never trusted those who sought shortcuts to power anyway."

  He moved silently to the window, testing his concealed Qi by passing near the door where a guard was stationed. The guard showed no reaction.

  "Perfect," Tae-Won whispered. "Now let's see what my new allies are doing."

  With the grace that once carried him through imperial court intrigues, Tae-Won slipped out the window and into the shadow-drenched gardens of the Jin Clan compound.

  Tae-Won slipped through the Jin Clan compound under the cover of darkness, his movements precise and deliberate. The guest quarters were minimally guarded—a calculated insult, perhaps, suggesting he wasn't worth the effort of proper surveillance. Their underestimation would serve him well.

  He had spent the remainder of the day after meeting Elder Jin in careful observation, mapping patrol patterns and guard rotations. The eastern wall, as he'd suspected, offered the most promising escape route. A large oak tree grew near enough to provide cover from casual observers, and the wall itself featured subtle imperfections—handholds for someone with his experience in siege warfare.

  "System," he whispered as he crouched in the shadow of the tree. "Status."

  [Current Realm: Body Refinement Stage 1]

  [Cultivation Progress: 20.1%]

  [Qi reserves: 72% of maximum capacity]

  [Physical condition: 78% recovered from previous injuries]

  Better, though still pathetically weak. Just a few hours in the Qi-rich environment of the Jin compound had accelerated his recovery substantially. He'd need to make the most of his time here.

  With practiced efficiency, Tae-Won scaled the wall, each movement calculated to minimize noise and visibility. At the top, he paused, scanning for patrolling guards. Two figures in blue robes walked the perimeter fifty paces to the north, their backs turned to him. Perfect.

  He dropped silently to the other side, landing in a crouch that distributed his weight evenly—a technique perfected during countless infiltration missions in his previous life. The streets beyond the compound were nearly empty at this hour, with only the occasional drunk or night worker hurrying along the paved roads.

  Navigating by memory, Tae-Won made his way back toward the slums. The transition from the Jin Clan's district to the city's poorer quarters was stark—paved roads giving way to muddy paths, solid buildings replaced by ramshackle structures, clean air surrendering to the stench of poverty and desperation.

  The abandoned temple sat on the edge of the slum district, near the slow-moving river that served as both water source and sewage disposal for the area's residents. Once an impressive structure dedicated to some forgotten deity, it now stood partially collapsed, its ornate decorations long since stripped for materials or food money.

  As Tae-Won approached, he noticed small, flickering movements in the shadows—watchful eyes tracking his progress. The children had posted lookouts. Smart.

  "It's me," he called softly, keeping his voice low enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention but loud enough for nearby ears to catch.

  A small figure dropped from the crumbling temple roof, landing with surprising grace. Ho-Jin grinned up at him, relief evident in his young face.

  "You made it, sir! We were starting to worry."

  "I said I would come," Tae-Won replied, stepping into the relative shelter of the temple's remaining walls. "I keep my word."

  Inside, the main hall had been transformed into a makeshift hideout. Tattered blankets formed sleeping pallets along the walls, while a small fire burned in what had once been the altar area, carefully screened to prevent the light from being visible outside.

  Twenty-three children looked up at his entrance, their faces a mixture of hope, wariness, and curiosity. More than the thirteen he'd met earlier—the rest of Ho-Jin's group had joined them as promised.

  "Our savior returns!" a small voice called out, prompting several excited whispers.

  Tae-Won scowled. "What did I say about that title?"

  The children exchanged glances, some looking abashed, others suppressing smiles.

  Min-Ji stepped forward, her scarred face solemn. "We didn't expect you to escape the Jin Clan compound. How did you manage it?"

  "The same way I'll return before dawn," Tae-Won answered, moving to warm his hands by the fire. "Their security is designed to keep people out, not in. Especially guests they underestimate."

  The children gathered around him, their earlier bashfulness forgotten in their eagerness for news. Tae-Won studied them more carefully now, assessing their potential as assets. They ranged from perhaps five to seventeen years old, with Min-Ji and a tall, wiry boy appearing to be the eldest. Despite their ragged appearance and obvious malnutrition, there was a resilience in their eyes that reminded him of the frontier battalions he'd once commanded—those who had learned to survive against all odds.

  "Tell us everything," Ho-Jin urged, settling cross-legged at Tae-Won's feet. "What happened with Elder Jin? Are you joining the clan? Did they try to kill you?"

  Tae-Won held up a hand, stemming the flood of questions. "First, report. What have you learned since we separated? Any sign that the Jin Clan is searching the slums for me or for you?"

  Min-Ji shook her head. "No systematic searches, but the patrols have been more frequent in the eastern quadrant—near your old shack. They're asking questions, offering coins for information."

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  "Anyone take the bait?"

  "Old Man Choi," a thin boy with a missing front tooth offered. "But he's senile—told them you flew away on a giant turtle."

  Tae-Won raised an eyebrow, and the children giggled.

  "No credible information has leaked," Min-Ji confirmed. "The slum folk don't trust the Jin Clan enough to cooperate, coins or no coins."

  "Good." Tae-Won nodded, satisfied with their initial report. "Now listen carefully. I've been offered a position as an Outer Disciple in the Jin Clan."

  Gasps and murmurs swept through the gathered children.

  "Are you going to accept?" Ho-Jin asked, his voice tinged with worry.

  "No." Tae-Won's voice was firm. "But I have three days as their guest to observe and learn. I intend to make the most of it."

  He outlined his plan—days spent in the compound gathering information and cultivation resources, nights coordinating with the children to establish a network in the slums. By the end of the three days, he would need to be ready to refuse Elder Jin's offer without immediately being hunted down and eliminated.

  "But why refuse?" the tall, wiry boy asked. "Joining the Jin Clan would mean food, shelter, training—everything we lack here."

  "And what would it mean for the rest of you?" Tae-Won countered. "Would the Jin Clan extend their generosity to two dozen slum children? Or would they expect me to abandon you as the price of my advancement?"

  The boy fell silent, and several of the younger children shuffled closer to Tae-Won, as if seeking reassurance that he wouldn't leave them behind.

  It was manipulative, appealing to their fear of abandonment—but also true. The Jin Clan would never accept these children as part of any deal. Their offer was for him alone, based on his potential value as an asset.

  Min-Ji's eyes narrowed with concern. "What happens when you reject their offer? I doubt they'll take it kindly."

  Tae-Won nodded grimly. "That's exactly the problem. What I speculate is that they'll send cultivators to deal with me—and possibly you as well. That's why you need to be prepared to leave this location immediately after I make my decision."

  The children exchanged worried glances.

  "They'll really come after us?" a small girl asked, her voice quavering.

  "They probably won't send their regular forces," Tae-Won explained, "but rather the patrol men we've seen in the slums. I'm still not strong enough to fight them either, but that's why we need this backup plan."

  "Where would we go?" Ho-Jin asked.

  "I'm working on that," Tae-Won replied. "Which brings me to my next point. What do you know about places beyond the Jin Clan's control? Places where we might seek refuge or opportunity?"

  The children exchanged uncertain glances, then looked to Min-Ji, who seemed to be their default source of knowledge.

  "There's not much beyond the city walls for people like us," she said slowly. "The wilderness is full of beasts and bandits. Other clans' territories have their own patrols that are even less kind to slum rats than the Jin Clan's."

  Li-Na, the small girl with intelligent eyes, spoke up hesitantly. "My father once told me about the Heavenly Cloud Martial Academy to the north. They say it's different from the clans and sects."

  "Different how?" Tae-Won asked, his interest piqued.

  "My father said they accept students based on talent, not family name," Li-Na replied, her voice growing stronger as she shared this fragment of knowledge. "They hold examinations that anyone can attempt."

  "Anyone?" Tae-Won repeated skeptically.

  Li-Na's expression dimmed slightly. "Well, that's what they claim. But my father said the entrance fee alone is more than most families see in a year. And you need to be strong already to pass their trials."

  "So another door that appears open but is effectively closed to the likes of us," Tae-Won concluded, filing this information away for further investigation. "What else do you know about the powers in this city? The Jin Clan can't be the only significant force."

  This prompted a disjointed but illuminating discussion among the children. Their knowledge was spotty and often contradictory, clearly cobbled together from overheard conversations, rumors, and glimpses of the world beyond their narrow experience. Yet within their collective understanding, certain patterns emerged.

  "There are five really big sects," Ho-Jin explained with the confident authority of a child repeating something they've heard adults discuss. "They're so powerful even the Emperor has to be nice to them."

  "The Emperor?" Tae-Won asked, realizing he knew almost nothing about the broader political structure of this world. "Tell me more about him."

  Min-Ji shook her head. "The Imperial Capital is far to the west—weeks of travel from here. The Emperor rules in name, but the Five Great Sects and the Twelve Noble Families hold the real power."

  "And the Jin Clan is one of these Noble Families?" Tae-Won clarified.

  "Yes," Min-Ji confirmed. "They control this district and the surrounding farmlands. Their specialty is something to do with metalworking and weapons."

  Tae-Won nodded thoughtfully. The picture forming was incomplete but suggestive of a feudal structure with cultivation ability determining one's place in the hierarchy. Not unlike Latvaria before his rise to power, though the specifics differed.

  "I need to gather more precise information about these power structures," he said. "Tomorrow I'll access the Jin Clan's library and learn what I can about the city's political landscape, the cultivation paths available to us, and potential opportunities outside the Jin Clan's control."

  He looked around at the gathered children, seeing not street rats but the raw material for something far more valuable—an intelligence network, the seeds of a power base, potentially even true disciples if properly molded.

  "But tonight," he continued, "I promised to teach you some techniques. We haven't much time, but I can show you the first step toward strengthening your bodies."

  [Teaching Assistant Module activated. Basic Qi Circulation technique prepared for instruction.]

  Tae-Won blinked in surprise as the System message appeared in his mind. This was a new feature—one that could prove extremely useful for training these children efficiently.

  "Gather around," he instructed, moving to the center of the room. "What I'm about to teach you is the foundation of all cultivation—proper breathing and Qi awareness."

  The children formed a circle around him, their faces alight with eagerness. Even the older, more skeptical ones like Min-Ji couldn't hide their interest. In a world where cultivation meant power, and power meant survival, this knowledge was more valuable than gold.

  "First, sit like this," Tae-Won demonstrated, settling into a cross-legged position with his back straight and hands resting on his knees. "Your spine must be aligned properly to allow energy to flow without obstruction."

  He waited as the children mimicked his posture, moving among them to make small corrections—straightening a back here, adjusting hand positions there.

  [Teaching efficiency optimized. Recommend subdividing instruction into three phases: breathing rhythm, energy awareness, and initial circulation.]

  "We'll begin with breathing," Tae-Won announced, following the System's guidance. "Close your eyes and focus on the air entering and leaving your lungs. Breathe in for a count of four, hold for a count of seven, then exhale for a count of eight."

  He led them through this pattern several times, his voice calm and measured. Some of the younger children struggled with the timing, their breaths coming too quickly or irregularly, but the older ones followed with surprising precision.

  "Good," he said after several minutes. "Now, as you breathe, try to feel the energy in the air—the Qi that surrounds us. Imagine it entering your body with each breath, filling you with strength and vitality."

  This was the most difficult part for beginners—sensing the ambient energy that experienced cultivators could perceive as naturally as physical sensations. Few would succeed on their first attempt, but the consistent practice of visualization would eventually sensitize them to Qi's presence.

  "Don't be discouraged if you feel nothing yet," he assured them as he observed their concentrated expressions. "Awareness comes with practice. Continue the breathing pattern and visualization each morning and night, and your sensitivity will develop naturally."

  After twenty minutes of guided practice, Tae-Won noticed several of the children showing signs of fatigue—their postures slumping, their breaths becoming irregular. It was time for the final phase.

  "For those who can sense the energy," he said, "try to direct it along this path."

  He traced a line from the base of his spine up to the crown of his head, then down the front of his body to complete the circuit.

  "This is the most basic circulation path—the Microcosmic Orbit. As you practice, the energy will gradually clear and widen this channel, strengthening your foundation for future cultivation."

  [Basic instruction complete. Estimated comprehension rate: 63%. Recommend regular reinforcement for optimal results.]

  Tae-Won nodded slightly in acknowledgment of the System's assessment. For children with no previous exposure to cultivation concepts, even partial understanding was a significant achievement.

  "That's enough for tonight," he said, noting how the youngest ones were already struggling to keep their eyes open. "Practice what I've shown you whenever you can—morning and night at minimum. It won't make you cultivators overnight, but it will strengthen your bodies and begin to awaken your awareness of Qi."

  Ho-Jin nodded seriously. "We'll practice every day, sir. And we'll gather more information for when you return tomorrow night."

  Tae-Won rose to his feet, surveying the children with a calculating gaze. They were pitifully weak, their potential largely untapped—yet there was also possibility there. With proper guidance and resources, some might develop into useful assets. Perhaps even more than assets.

  "Before I go," he said, "I need each of you to understand something important. What I'm teaching you isn't merely about individual strength—it's about our collective survival. The knowledge and skills I share belong to all of us. There will be no hoarding of techniques or competing against each other. We rise together, or we fall together. Is that clear?"

  The children nodded solemnly, though Tae-Won noticed Min-Ji's skeptical expression. She would need more convincing—understandable, given the harsh realities that had shaped her worldview.

  "Get some rest," he instructed. "Tomorrow, I'll bring food if I can, and more information about our options. Be ready to move on short notice if necessary."

  With final instructions to maintain secrecy and avoid the Jin Clan patrols, Tae-Won slipped back into the night, retracing his path to the compound. As he moved through the shadows, his mind raced with plans and possibilities.

  The System's Teaching Assistant Module was an unexpected asset—one that could dramatically accelerate the children's development if used effectively. Combined with the resources he could access within the Jin Clan compound, it might be possible to establish a foundation for his ambitions far more quickly than he'd initially estimated.

  These children would be his first disciples—not in name, perhaps, but in function. The foundation of what would eventually become an organization to rival the Great Sects themselves.

  It was an audacious goal for someone currently struggling at the lowest level of cultivation, but audacity had always been Edward Reinhart's specialty. Now, as Tae-Won, he would rebuild his power from nothing, one calculated step at a time.

  The first pieces were already in motion.

  -End Of Chapter