Free Web NovelChapter 23: 23 | The Old Man!!
Dexter was about to keep jogging when his system pinged.
[Ding!]
[Slaughter Extraction System — Target Detected]
[Analyzing 7th Tier Grade Technique in progress...]
[Would you like to continue analysis? Remain within observation range.]
Dexter froze.
7th tier?
He’d never even heard of a 7-th grade anything. Those were the kinds of things that could cause an entire war, and here was some guy, doing it on a balcony at 4:00 AM like it was a morning stretch.
Without thinking, Dexter backwd up to a tree, keeping his eyes locked on the balcony.
The old man didn’t seem to notice. He just kept moving, shifting his weight, breathing in sync with movements that looked simple but clearly weren’t.
Dexter’s system started pulling data, mapping out the weird way the old man’s mana was circulating through his meridians.
Ten minutes. Then twenty. The old man finished with a long, slow exhale, wiped his face, and ducked back inside.
[Analysis Progress: 5%]
Only five percent?
He let out a frustrated huff.
At this rate, he’d have to live in these bushes for a week to get the whole thing.
He looked up at the empty balcony.
Every day, he thought. Every chance I get. I’m taking this.
The rest of the morning was a dull slog. Dexter went back upstairs, took care of the girls, and played his part in the quiet, awkward routine they’d fallen into.
But his head wasn’t in the room. He kept finding excuses to slip out, checking the balcony from the garden, from the lobby, from the window of the suite.
Finally, in the late afternoon, he saw movement.
He bolted for the back garden, hid behind a hedge, and watched. The old man practiced for another thirty minutes, his movements shifting, becoming more complex.
[Analysis Progress: 11%]
Still not enough. It was driving him crazy. He couldn’t exactly knock on the door and ask for a private lesson this guy was clearly a powerhouse.
He was stuck playing the long game.
Night hit. Back in the suite, Dexter was doing the usual thing—helping Mira from her wheelchair to the bathroom when he saw she was stained red.
She was in her period!
He went bright red. He couldn’t help it.
Mira just stared at him, then let out a dry laugh.
"Why are you so red? I’m the one who should be red aren’t I."
Dexter’s jaw set. He didn’t say a word. So he went inside picked a pad and fixed it to a panties and helped her in it.
Then took her where she needed to go and walked out to the living room.
He was still angry. He was still bitter. And the way she’d teased him didn’t make it better; it just made things feel weird. He could feel Selene and Lyra watching him from the bedroom, but he didn’t care either.
He’d had enough. He grabbed the room key and walked out the door, needing to get away from the suffocating quiet.
At 7:00 PM, he was back at his post.
The old man was there again, moving through the same strange, fluid forms. Dexter watched, focused, as the system worked its magic.
[Analysis Progress: 17%]
When the old man went inside, Dexter sighed and turned to leave. He didn’t see the old man pause at the glass door, watching him with a sharp, amused glint in his eyes.
Inside the suite, a young woman’s voice drifted out.
"Grandfather... are you intentionally teaching that boy?"
The old man stroked his beard, looking down at the empty garden.
"No."
The girl arched an eyebrow.
He chuckled.
"It took you a year to learn the first stage. No way that brat gets it in three days. I’m just bored."
"You’re playing with people again," she said with a sigh.
"He caught my interest," the old man laughed. "And he’s persistent. If he can steal this from just watching, he’s earned it. If not..."
He shrugged.
"Then he’s not worth the worry."
When Dexter got back to the room, he sat on the couch, exhausted.
The suite was quiet, but as he sat there, he heard it, tiny, jagged spikes of mana.
He focused.
It was as if someone was cultivating.
’Are the girls cultivating in the bedroom?’
If they truly are cultivating with shattered meridians, it would be incredibly painful!
Just like trying to force water through a rusted pipe. It hurt, it was dangerous, and their progress was probably almost zero.
They should have been resting. But they were sitting there, pushing through the agony, trying to put themselves back together.
’Have they changed?’ Dexter shook his head and smiled, he felt it as ridiculous. They wouldn’t give up on killing themsolves just like that.
He went to say something, but he stopped.
Tomorrow, he thought. We’ll deal with tomorrow.
He laid back, closed his eyes, and drifted off to the sound of them fighting for every inch of progress.
The next morning, it was 7:00 AM, and the old man was already out there.
Dexter was back, eyes locked on the balcony.
The system was buzzing, the numbers creeping up—19%, 20%, 21%—when the old man just... stopped.
He didn’t finish the move. He just tilted his head and stared right at the tree where Dexter was resting.
Dexter’s heart dropped into his stomach. He wasn’t that well-hidden.
The old man raised a finger.
Come here.
Dexter pointed at his own chest, stunned.
The old man rolled his eyes, took a breath, and just stepped off the balcony.
Five stories.
Dexter eyes popped open, but the old man didn’t hit the ground like a sack of bricks. He landed like he was stepping off a curb—no sound, no impact, just a light tap of his sandals.
He walked over to the hedge, looking at Dexter with with a dangerous smile.
"Interesting," he said, his voice sounding like gravel. He looked Dexter up and down, and for a second, Dexter felt like he was being X-rayed. "A mere C-Rank affinity... and yet, you’re trying to steal my technique."
The old man’s smile went cold. The air suddenly felt like it was pressing down on Dexter’s shoulders.
"Tell me, boy," the old man whispered. "Are you not afraid of dying?"
