Global Games: My Skills Can Be Upgraded Infinitely

Wanfo Temple:

"Little Tiger".

The abbot of Wanfo Temple, dressed in a kasaya, arrived at the training ground and gently called to the young man in the field.

"Abbot?" Ye Hu stopped his fighting and bowed slightly to the abbot. "Greetings, Abbot."

The old abbot lifted him up: "Little Tiger, how's your practice of the Bodhidharma Sutra going?"

"I have already grasped much, and have just stepped into the first level."

Ye Hu said modestly.

"Yes, very good."

The old abbot nodded: "No need to rush, Xiao Hu. You are different from other people. I can sense that your physique is extraordinary."

"As long as you walk on the right path, you will definitely be able to comprehend the true and profound Buddhist teachings."

Ye Hu was completely confused and couldn't help but doubt himself. Was he really that powerful? He had only just become a player.

However, since the abbot said so, he believed him.

It has been a week since he joined Wanfo Temple.

The game of fate gave him the identity of a lay disciple of Wanfo Temple, meaning a disciple who doesn't need to shave his head and only needs to follow the precepts.

After much effort, he used his physical strength to defeat his fellow disciples in the temple and successfully qualified for the competition.

at the same time.

White Rainbow Kingdom - Shinto-ryu Sword Technique Dojo:

Fujino Seiran yawned, lying on the tatami mat, half asleep, completely unmoved as he watched his disciples training hard outside.

Upon arriving at this historical replica dating back two hundred years, he could only describe himself as bored.

"Damn modern times! No internet is bad enough, but we don't even have electricity! We have to use bamboo to wipe our butts!"

His resentment was considerable.

"Qinglan-san, aren't you coming to training with us?"

A disciple shouted.

Fujino Seiran waved his hand: "Don't bother me with this level of training; it's a complete waste of my life."

"Forget it, let's ignore him. He's been at our dojo for a week and he's still so lazy. He's so arrogant just because he's of Chinese descent. He's hopeless."

Someone muttered.

Just as he finished speaking, a wooden knife suddenly whizzed past his ear at an extremely fast speed.

Finally, with a "thud," it pierced the wall behind the other person.

Fujino Seiran slowly sat up and said coldly, "I'll give you a chance. You take the steel sword, and I'll take the wooden sword."

As he spoke, he stood up, rubbed his shoulders, and looked irritable and impatient.

He loved his hometown, but he also loathed the distorted society on the islands.

On this land, the words "fitting in" and "rules" have been repeatedly spoken of since ancient times. If you don't fit in, then whatever you do is wrong.

A society that has been pushed to its limits has created absolute extremes: either it surges forward relentlessly, or it regresses backward relentlessly.

Therefore, in Fujino Seiran's eyes, these people were a bunch of brainless idiots, which is why he looked down on them so much.

"what?"

The disciple who had just been brushed past by the wooden sword hadn't recovered from the shock when he saw Fujino Seiran pick up a wooden sword from the shelf.

"I told you to get the knife." Fujino Seiran's tone was icy.

"Or are you saying you can't understand human language? You idiot."

The other person instantly flew into a rage, standing up: "You mere newbie, how dare you be so arrogant? I'm your senior!"

He then picked up a steel sword from the sword rack next to him, assumed the standard Shinto-ryu starting stance, and thought to himself that he must teach his opponent a lesson.

Seeing this, the disciples nearby formed a circle and waited to watch the show.

They were all hoping that Fujino Seiran would lose, because that would uphold their dignity as seniors.

But things backfired.

Only one round of combat.

The broken steel blade was stuck in the ground, while Fujino Seiran's wooden sword had already torn open the disciple's throat, just a hair's breadth away from the carotid artery.

"You...!" The disciple was shocked.

Fujino Seiran kicked him away, then coldly glanced at the people around her: "Don't keep your insults to yourself, I'm always ready to fight."

No one around helped the senior brother who had fallen to the ground; he could only curse Fujino Seiran a thousand times in his heart.

"A bunch of cowards." Fujino Seiran sneered at the sight.

****

The Primordial Gate:

"Junior brother! We should set off."

Early in the morning, Bai Daoran climbed over Mo Lan's courtyard and sat on the wall, shouting.

"Okay."

Mo Lan pushed open the door, raised his hand and yawned. After gradually getting used to the quiet life of the Tai Chu Sect, he started to get lazy again.

The second level of the Supreme Orthodox Dharma is indeed not easy to break through. Even someone as talented as Bai Daoran took a year to achieve it.

That's how the ancient methods work; they emphasize understanding.

If you force yourself to train to the point of exhaustion, it will backfire and lead to mental breakdown.

After packing a few things, Mo Lan followed Bai Daoran to the training ground, where the disciples who were going to participate in the battle had already assembled.

This Ancient Dharma Realm Conference was led by Lin Jianwei and Gu Qingli, while Qin Baichuan was responsible for guarding the sect.

Seeing that everyone had arrived, Lin Jianwei raised his hand, took out a whisk from his sleeve, and suddenly slashed it in the air.

Wherever the whisk swept across, the space seemed to split open like a galaxy, revealing a magnificent temple on the other side.

Mo Lan, watching from the side, was stunned: "???"

Dude, aren't we supposed to be practicing ancient cultivation methods? I was thinking of something like "Under One Person," but it turns out you're into fantasy.

Bai Daoran chuckled beside him: "The whisk in Master's hand is one of our sect's most treasured artifacts."

Alright, then Mo Lan understands. This whisk is most likely something that the founder brought out from the game of fate.

Because the way the game of fate is presented is different in each era.

So back then it wasn't even called the Game of Fate, but rather the Samsara Realm, which was called by ancient seekers of the Dharma.

"Alright, everyone, go one by one." Lin Jian smiled and said.

Mo Lan followed behind Bai Daoran, crossing the spatial rift created by the whisk, and felt dizzy.

After my feet touched the ground, everything before me was completely transformed.

"Thump—!"

A long, drawn-out bell, quite different from the one at Taichu Gate, resounded throughout every corner of Wanfo Temple.

"Amitabha."

The abbot of Wanfo Temple, along with two Arhats and a group of Buddhist disciples, had been waiting there for some time.

"Old monk, how have you been?" Lin Jianwei stroked his beard, smiled, and pointed to the abbot, who was an old friend of his.

They were comrades-in-arms on the battlefield back in the time of the Chaos of Calamity. At that time, they were young and their cultivation was not yet that advanced.

When the Ancestral Master Suichen led the masters of the Ancient Dharma Realm to fight solo against Huo En and the masters of the Huo Sect, the two of them could only stand by and watch from the sidelines, thus forging a deep friendship.

In the blink of an eye, everything has changed.

"You old Taoist priest, you're not to be outdone either."

Abbot Xuankong smiled, a rare smile appearing on his wrinkled face, a testament to the reunion of old friends.

The Arhats and disciples behind him were all taken aback, never expecting that their usually serious abbot would actually make a joke.

Mo Lan and the others were used to Lin Jianwei's unreliability, because the old man's mentality was younger than anyone else's.

Suddenly, Mo Lan spotted a somewhat familiar figure among the disciples of Wanfo Temple, and raised her hand:

"Hey, Tiger?"

"what?"

Ye Hu looked up in confusion from the crowd and saw Mo Lan standing opposite him. His eyes immediately lit up with excitement.

He subconsciously raised his hand, about to greet her, but then suddenly stopped halfway, because he didn't know Mo Lan's code name in this world.

Fortunately, Mo Lan reacted quickly:

"Don't you remember me? Lan family, Lan Meng."

"Brother Lan! Long time no see!"

Ye Hu immediately bowed and acknowledged his kinship.

Bai Daoran, standing nearby, frowned and quickly leaned closer, asking jealously, "Junior brother, who is this? Do you know him?"

Mo Lan smiled and said slowly, "They were friends of mine at the private school before I came to the Tai Chu Sect. We often played together."

What puzzled Mo Lan was why Ye Hu was here.

Even if Ye Hu awakened and became a player, wasn't he still a newbie? How could he be thrown directly into a LV3 dungeon by the game of fate?

This was the first time he had ever met someone with an even darker account than his own.

Could it be because they worked together to resolve Li Jing's situation before?

See? This is the consequence of not playing the chicken claw style.

The consequence of having too good a record is that even if you're a newbie, the game of fate will throw you into matches full of locked-down players.

You're really going to be jailed, bro.