22: Chapter 22: Iron-clad hardwood long sticks, 80 each, what could be wrong with them?

The bus engine had started, and the air conditioning inside began to deliver a pleasant breeze.

Hu Jinsi stowed all his equipment into his backpack.

Wearing just his school uniform—mostly because he wasn't wearing any armor, so there was no hassle of taking it off—he slumped into his seat, his eyelids feeling as heavy as if they were weighted with lead.

Lin Rui sat on the other side of the aisle, his head tilted against the window, already emitting steady breathing sounds.

Su Wan curled up alone in the back row, her lyre held in her arms the entire time, never having been put into her backpack.

It had been less than two hours since the three of them had come out of the dungeon, and exhaustion was seeping out from within like a rising tide.

Hu Jinsi had just closed his eyes, his consciousness not yet sinking into darkness, when the phone in his pants pocket suddenly started vibrating like crazy.

"Buzz—buzz—"

It wasn't just once; it was a continuous, relentless vibration, as if someone had shoved a motor into his thigh bone.

Hu Jinsi frowned and fished out his phone.

The moment the screen lit up, he almost thought his phone had caught a virus—the notification bar was densely packed with dozens of unread messages.

Class groups, private chats from friends, and even students from the next class over whom he had never spoken to were all frantically tagging him.

"What's going on?" he muttered, sliding his finger upwards.

Lin Rui was awakened by the vibration and pulled out his phone, his expression rapidly shifting from dazed to grave.

Su Wan rolled over in the back row, asking groggily, "Is there an earthquake?"

"More trouble than an earthquake." Lin Rui's voice was very low.

The three of them's phones kept vibrating, and messages poured in like a breached dam.

Hu Jinsi tapped on a few at random, his brow furrowing tighter the more he read.

"Jack-of-All-Trades Squad all reach Level 6! 3v3 goes head-to-head with the Elite trio!"

"Hidden ace of No. 1 High School? The miraculous combination of Monk + Soldier + Bard!"

"Heard they used grenades + Fog Cloud + pit traps to wipe out the elite group at Blackwell Farm!"

Hu Jinsi's mouth twitched, and he couldn't help but complain internally: The way these headlines are written, they're just like those clickbait editors from his past life.

"Go head-to-head," "miraculous combination"—we clearly used pit traps and grenade ambushes, how did it turn into a shonen manga protagonist story when it got out?

"We... seem to have become famous." Su Wan finally woke up, staring at her phone screen, her voice sounding faint.

"Not 'seem to,' we've already blown up." Hu Jinsi flipped his phone onto his lap and rubbed his temples.

"Look at this share count. The folks in our class have a real talent for embellishing; they'd be wasted if they didn't write novels."

Lin Rui quickly scanned the messages, then suddenly looked up, his gaze sweeping across Hu Jinsi and Su Wan's faces.

"Have you noticed? These claims... are too uniform. Even phrases like '3v3 head-to-head with elites' have appeared several times, like someone issued a unified press release."

Hu Jinsi paused and picked up his phone to look closely at a few more.

Sure enough, the claims forwarded by different classmates were highly similar, even the placement of the exclamation marks was identical.

"The school did it." Lin Rui's tone was certain.

He swiped on his screen a few times. "Look at this, a post just released by the school's official account: 'No. 1 High School's Jack-of-All-Trades Squad breaks through their limits, successfully conquering a high-difficulty elite combination.' The picture is still of our backs from last time we left the dungeon; don't know who snuck that photo."

Su Wan leaned over to take a look, her face turning pale. "We... we didn't agree to them posting this, did we?"

"Definitely didn't agree." Hu Jinsi leaned back, staring at the ventilation duct on the ceiling, clear-headed about the situation.

He had seen this kind of operation too many times in his past life—the school needed political achievements, the Education Bureau needed positive role models, especially after what happened with the Knight Squad.

With an A-rank class leading the way, two students died in the dungeon; No. 1 High School's enrollment and funding for this year were under pressure.

Pushing the three of them out now could both dilute the shadow of the fatal accident and suppress the momentum of the S-rank class from No. 3 High School—killing two birds with one stone.

"Posting it without discussing it with us is a bit underhanded." Lin Rui's voice was muffled, his fingers gripping his phone until his knuckles turned white.

"Underhanded is an understatement; they're using us as fire extinguishers." Hu Jinsi gave a cold laugh, but immediately waved his hand.

"What can you do about the school? The Knight Squad incident caused too much of a stir; the Education Bureau probably put on pressure. Those two S-ranks from No. 3 High School are on the news every day. If No. 1 High School doesn't make some noise, all the good seedlings will run off to No. 3 High School next year."

Su Wan bit her lip, her fingers unconsciously twisting the strings of her lyre. "Then what should we do? Respond?"

"Respond my ass." Hu Jinsi shoved his phone into his backpack.

"The more you respond, the livelier it gets. Let them hype it up; we'll play dead."

The three discussed it for a few moments and quickly reached a consensus.

Lin Rui and Su Wan each sent a short message to their families to explain the situation, so the elders wouldn't worry after hearing exaggerated versions from others.

Then—

"Mute." In front of them, Hu Jinsi pressed the volume button on the side of his phone until it hit the bottom, and the bell icon on the screen was crossed out.

"Anyway, no matter what kind of rumors appear later, we don't know, we aren't participating, and we aren't commenting. Just pretend these three days we're cavemen, surviving off the grid."

Lin Rui and Su Wan performed the same operation, and the three phones went black almost simultaneously, tucked into the deepest part of their backpacks.

"Just don't know how many classmates next week," Hu Jinsi looked at the sycamore trees slowly receding outside the window, his voice softening a bit, "under the pressure of school honor, will give their forced teleportation talismans to those three elites."

The carriage was quiet for a moment.

Lin Rui closed his eyes, Su Wan hugged her lyre, and neither of them responded to this remark.

...

The days of rest were like a cup of lukewarm white water, so plain that one could see their own reflection in it.

But the atmosphere in the class was as lively as a pot of boiling porridge.

When Hu Jinsi returned to school on Wednesday, just as he stepped into the back door of the classroom, he heard Li Hao's voice erupt from the corner—that guy was usually as shy as a quail, but at this moment he was standing behind his alchemy workbench, his glasses covered in dust, his sleeves stained with suspicious scorched marks, roaring at a circle of classmates.

"I haven't done anything since I got back this week! I haven't even had time to practice squad coordination, I've just been making Molotov cocktails and Alchemist's Fire!"

Li Hao's voice carried a sob, and he was clutching half a bottle of unsealed red liquid.

"Do you know I can mix the ratio of Alchemist's Fire with my eyes closed now? Muscle memory! This is muscle memory! I'm pouring nitroglycerin into bottles in my dreams!"

The surrounding classmates weren't sympathetic at all; instead, someone slammed the table.

"You have time to complain here, why aren't you working faster? I ordered twenty Molotov cocktails, and you've only delivered eight so far! We need them for next week's dungeon run!"

"Exactly! My share isn't finished either. Li Hao, work some overtime, don't sleep tonight!"

Li Hao's face slumped like a crumpled rag, but his hands didn't stop, continuing to pour liquid into the glass bottles.

Hu Jinsi watched this scene and was amused: Molotov cocktail sales were hitting new highs; Li Hao, this D-rank Alchemist, was being forced by market demand into a 996 worker.

"Looks like our intelligence sharing had a bit of an excessive effect." Lin Rui said in a low voice nearby.

"At least Li Hao's professional experience is going up." Hu Jinsi shrugged.

"Besides, having something to use is better than watching monsters not get cleared and wasting cooldowns."

The three didn't delay and went straight to find Sun Yao to settle the final payment.

The money from Sun Yao's family was already in her account.

Added to the previous five thousand credit deposit, [Skill Stone: Summon Lesser Demon (Imp)] was finally sold for thirty thousand credits.

"Five thousand per person, fifteen thousand into the public fund." Su Wan distributed it according to the previously agreed ratio.

"Sun Yao has already learned it. She said this skill didn't become a separate skill slot, but directly added the Imp to her summon list, enjoying all the bonuses of the Summoner profession. She feels she made a huge profit and wants us to prioritize her if we have good goods in the future."

Hu Jinsi took the credit coins, weighed them, and calculated in his heart: Sun Yao definitely earned it.

The core of a Summoner is the quantity and variety of summons; having one more Imp with a weakening curse directly thickened her tactical library.

And the three of them didn't lose out either—thirty thousand credits had already filled the hole from each family's previous sponsorship.

As for that [Mud-Stained Leggings], it still didn't find a buyer.

Yi Chun refused to take it to the death, and other classmates backed away at the sight of that layer of suspicious mud and the smell.

In the end, it was sold to the school's logistics department at a base price of two thousand credits.

As for whether some fated junior would dig it out while cleaning the warehouse, that was anyone's guess.

...

The money was in hand, but the problem of fire weapons still hung over their heads.

The three of them separately inquired around the school and their homes, and the feedback was surprisingly consistent: weapons with fire damage, even the cheapest second-hand goods, were priced above ten thousand credits.

And those cheap goods were usually transitional equipment with extremely low damage, offering limited improvement for a three-person squad, with a terrible cost-performance ratio.

"Twelve thousand, the cheapest one-handed sword, with only one point of fire addition."

Lin Rui slapped the price he had inquired about onto the table, his expression uglier than the leggings.

"And the durability is ridiculously low; you have to repair it after cutting a few dozen monsters, and it costs two thousand to repair once."

"What about the tech side?" Su Wan asked.

"Incendiary magazines, one-time use, three hundred credits for a magazine."

Hu Jinsi shook his head. "Soldier rifles can use them, but Lin Rui is holding off the Gnolls in the front, how can he use a rifle? Unless he buys another pistol. But the pistol + shield combo, I don't think Lin Rui can stand in the front line. (Actually, Hu Jinsi felt more like that was cosplaying Captain America.)"

The three sat in a corner of the school, staring at a scrap of paper full of prices.

The sycamore leaves outside the window rustled, as if someone were whispering and mocking their poverty.

"I have a makeshift method." Hu Jinsi suddenly spoke, his eyes fixed on the bundle of spare iron-reinforced hardwood staves in the corner.

"What?" Lin Rui and Su Wan looked up simultaneously.

Hu Jinsi didn't speak, but pulled a roll of second-hand oilcloth from his backpack—he had scavenged it from the profession mall for thirty credits, originally used by adventurers to protect against rain.

He cut the oilcloth into two pieces and wrapped them around the two ends of a staff, the parts covered with iron plating.

Then he unscrewed a Molotov cocktail and slowly poured the Alchemist's Fire onto the oilcloth until the fabric was saturated with the viscous liquid, becoming heavy and glossy.

Finally, he took out a flint and struck it lightly against one end of the staff.

"Whoosh—"

Flames sprang up.

Orange-red flames ignited on both ends of the staff simultaneously, the heat waves distorting the surrounding air.

Hu Jinsi held the center of the staff and swung it twice in the open space, the tongues of fire drawing sharp arcs along with the shadow of the staff, like a double-headed fire snake swimming in the air.

"Flame Staff, complete." He looked smug.

"Gnolls have a lot of fur and are weak to fire; this thing, when swung, burns the fur first, then breaks the bones, killing two birds with one stone."

Lin Rui stared at the burning staff, silent for three seconds, then asked the key question: "Are you sure you can use this? Is it safe? Will this fire burn your hands? And how long can the oilcloth last?"

Hu Jinsi thumped the staff on the ground, the flames burning brightly, and patted his chest. "The price of this staff is eighty credits."

Just with this one sentence, Lin Rui and Su Wan fell silent simultaneously.

Eighty credits.

Not even a fraction of the cost of Lin Rui's rusty one-handed hammer.

Even if this staff could only burn for half an hour, even if it was scrapped after burning out, Hu Jinsi packing a dozen of these in his backpack would only cost eight hundred credits.

Given the squad's current financial situation, even if they used this thing as a one-time consumable, they could smash dozens of them without feeling a pinch.

"...It really doesn't seem to have any downsides." Su Wan struggled to squeeze out this sentence.

"The only downside," Lin Rui said slowly, his gaze falling on Hu Jinsi, his expression complex, "might be that the Monk's sense of style has been lowered by you once again."

Hu Jinsi waved the double-headed fire staff, unconcerned. "Can style be eaten as a meal? Once I'm a Monk, what kind of style can I even have?"

Although he said that, Lin Rui and Su Wan looked at each other, and both saw the same image in the other's eyes—Hu Jinsi holding a staff with fire on both ends, jumping up and down in a group of Gnolls, looking just like a street performer from a juggling troupe.

In their minds, the image of the Monk profession had slid all the way down from "mysterious Eastern martial artist" to "street performer," and now it had fallen directly into the category of "charlatan."

But they didn't say that out loud.

After all, the cost-performance ratio of eighty credits was enough to silence any questions about style.

...

Good news arrived on Friday.

Su Wan received a call from home, her father's voice coming through the receiver with undisguised excitement: "The vocal cord tissue of the Siren has been obtained from the dungeon. It will be delivered to the house by the Explorer Association during your next dungeon cycle. It is said that the quality is good and it has been well preserved. You can start preparing for the collar mission by then."

Su Wan hung up the phone and jumped up on the training ground, the lyre almost flying out of her hands.

She grabbed Hu Jinsi's arm, pulled Lin Rui's hand, and the three formed a circle, cheering loudly.

"Got it! Siren vocal cords!" Su Wan's cheeks were flushed red.

"After I come back from the next dungeon, I can start preparing the [sirens voice collar]! Level 10! When I'm Level 10, I will be a true Siren Songstress!"

"Congratulations." Lin Rui rarely showed a smile, patting her shoulder with his backhand.

"You're one step closer to your qualitative change."

Hu Jinsi grinned to the side, but inwardly he was calculating a different account: Su Wan had reached the level 10 qualitative change, Lin Rui at level 6 had already acquired Charge and Honorary Counterattack, and he himself at level 6 had Spinning Crane Kick and Flurry of Blows. Everyone in the squad was getting stronger, but the difficulty of the dungeon was also rising accordingly. That tall figure roaming in the Gnoll forest—he would likely have to face it head-on next time.

Once people have money, their minds start to wander.

With five thousand credits in shares in her hand, Su Wan's urge to "pay-to-win" grew like weeds in spring. However, she didn't rush to buy equipment. Instead, she dragged Mo Ming, the string master of Pear Garden Squad, to spend all day in the school's music room, researching skill supplements related to music and sound waves.

"I'm so envious of you." Su Wan sat on the piano stool, clutching her lyre, her eyes sparkling as she stared at the erhu in Mo Ming's hand. "Phantasmal Sound Sword Sect—an advanced class that's only appeared in the last twenty years. Swinging a sword is playing music; you can attack, support, and even have special effect sword techniques... What kind of god-tier class is this?"

Mo Ming was busy tuning his strings. Hearing this, he looked up, a wry smile appearing on his delicate face. "The power you speak of was exchanged for having zero attack capability before level 30. From level 1 to level 30, I was a pure support; I had to rely on teammates to kill even a single Kobold. You, as a Bard, can master spells starting from level 1, heal, and control. Are you sure you want to complain to me about this?"

After trading a few jabs, the topic quickly turned to practical matters. Both Su Wan and Mo Ming were dissatisfied with the number of skills they had. Although Su Wan currently had five spell slots, she was stuck cycling through Healing Word, Thunderwave, Tashas Hideous Laughter, Faerie Fire, and Heroism. Whenever she encountered complex combat situations, she felt stretched thin. Mo Ming was even worse off; his skills relied entirely on musical scores, and new ones either required a massive amount of time to comprehend on his own or spending money to buy dungeon-dropped scores recognized by the World Consciousness.

"Musical scores are too expensive." Mo Ming sighed, his fingertips sliding across the erhu strings to produce a melancholic note. "Dungeon-dropped scores start at ten thousand credits, at the very least. Those condensed by high-level professionals using experience points are even more astronomical. I've only been awakened for less than two months; where would I get that much money?"

Su Wan felt the same way. Although her father was a Magic Harpist and the family had connections, she had already asked them to help buy the quest item for the Siren's vocal cords. Plus, she had two younger sisters, Su Qing and Su Yu, who would need resources for their own awakenings in the future. She didn't want to add any more burden to her family.

"Then take the unorthodox path." Mo Ming suddenly lowered his voice, as if sharing some shady secret. "I've heard that some Bards go learn the Barbarian's Battle Cry skill stone. Although the effect is halved when learning cross-class, and the style is a bit... rugged, it's at least a skill supplement. If you don't mind shouting at the top of your lungs like a Barbarian, you could give it a try."

Su Wan imagined herself on the battlefield, putting down her lyre, clenching her fists, and roaring at the sky. Her expression instantly twisted. "...I'll consider it."

In exchange, she also recommended an unorthodox path to Mo Ming. "Have you considered the Bard's [Street Cursing]?"

[Street Cursing: Directly heap verbal abuse upon the enemy. Use slang and jargon to precisely strike at the opponent's sore spots (e.g., "You can't even hold your sword steady!"), dealing psychic damage and imposing a disadvantage on attacks. Ineffective against enemies immune to psychic damage.]

"Street Cursing?" Mo Ming was stunned.

"You can think of it as a Bard version of Taunt, the kind that deals damage." Su Wan explained, her voice getting quieter, clearly feeling that the style was off. "It's a skill that Bards have a chance to acquire at level 1. It's not expensive; you can get it for a few thousand credits. Many Warriors learn it cross-class as a supplement to Taunt. Your skills don't require your mouth, so even if you can't replicate the Bard's effect 100% after learning it, it's still a skill supplement. The main thing is... it's cheap."

Mo Ming imagined himself on the battlefield, playing the erhu while pointing at a Kobold's nose and cursing, "You fool offering your head for a price!" His expression twisted just like Su Wan's had a moment ago.

But discussion was just discussion. After Su Wan went back, the more she thought about it, the more she felt Mo Ming made sense. Lin Rui was already wearing heavy armor and wrestling with monsters on the ground, and Hu Jinsi was enduring dizziness to repeatedly perform Spinning Crane Kick. Why should she still maintain the airs of a Bard? Her teammates were all giving it their all, and she had to take a step forward too.

That night, Su Wan sat in front of her computer, typed [Street Cursing] into the search bar of the Class Store, hesitated for three seconds, and clicked purchase.

"To get stronger," she stared at the payment successful interface and muttered to herself, "so what if I lose my image."

On Hu Jinsi's side, the experience gap for feats lay before him like a chasm. Leveling from 6 to 7 required 6400 experience points, while drawing an additional level 6 feat cost 3200 points. Even with the high efficiency of last week's dungeon, Lin Rui only earned over 2000 experience points inside. As for outside the dungeon, although Hu Jinsi had the support of Flurry of Blows and Spinning Crane Kick, which significantly increased his class experience gain during school practice, for someone like him who was a heavy consumer of experience due to his talent, the real bulk still came from meditation.

The five thousand credits he received had to be invested into meditation equipment to maximize his time efficiency.

He hunched over the virtual interface of the Class Store, his eyes bloodshot, filtering through meditation auxiliary items one by one. Finally, two pieces of equipment entered his cart. [Meditation Wooden Plaque] [Type: Auxiliary Equipment (Waist Accessory)] [Required Level: 3] [Effect: When meditating, your mind is easier to focus, +1 additional experience per round of meditation; after entering meditation, perception of physical discomfort such as pain, hunger, and cold is reduced, making it easier to maintain a state of Deep Meditation.] [Item Description: A palm-sized light yellow wooden plaque, the surface smoothed and warmed by years of handling, with a blurred "Quiet" character carved on the front. It is said to come from a hermit who meditated in seclusion for years, capable of blocking out chaotic external aura from the mind. It is neither overbearing nor flashy, yet it allows a restless person to let out a sigh of relief the moment they sit down.]

[Flowing Breath Scarf] [Type: Auxiliary Equipment (Head/Neck)] [Required Level: 4] [Effect: When worn, meditation time is reduced by an additional 20% (can stack with other meditation acceleration); while meditating, you are less likely to be awakened by sudden noises, and you feel more refreshed upon waking with no fatigue backlash.] [Item Description: A light gray scarf as thin as a cicada's wing, cool to the touch, as if it forever carries the moisture of early morning. It was used by a breathing master in his later years, having absorbed a steady and long breathing rhythm over the years, thus it can assist the wearer in slowing their heartbeat and regulating their breath, making Deep Meditation as natural as breathing.]

Hu Jinsi gritted his teeth and paid—1200 credits for the Meditation Wooden Plaque, 2100 credits for the Flowing Breath Scarf. His wallet instantly flattened significantly, but looking at the four-piece set in his hands (adding the previous prayer beads and meditation cushion), he quickly calculated inwardly:

Originally, one round of meditation took 30 minutes; the meditation cushion reduced it by half to 15 minutes. The Flowing Breath Scarf reduced it by another 20%; 20% of 15 minutes is 3 minutes, making it 12 minutes per round. Experience per round: 1 point base, doubled to 2 points for Deep Meditation, +1 point from the prayer beads [Immovable Seal]'s memory trigger, and +1 point from the Meditation Wooden Plaque, totaling 4 points per round. One hour can accommodate 5 rounds (60 divided by 12), which is 20 experience points. If he can maintain ten hours of meditation a day, that's 200 points.

"The limit of 20 hours of meditation a day is 400 points," Hu Jinsi sat cross-legged on the cushion, hanging the plaque at his waist, wearing the scarf on his head, and slowly rotating the beads on his wrist. "Ten days is 4000 points. Even without entering the dungeon, just by relying on meditation, I can have 6000 experience points in half a month or so."

He calmed his heart, and the Qi flowed through his meridians. Twelve minutes later, the panel vibrated gently, and the experience value jumped steadily by 4 points. Hu Jinsi opened his eyes, calculated the figures, and felt reassured.

This efficiency, in a non-dungeon state, already far exceeded Lin Rui and Su Wan. After all, those two couldn't spend over ten hours a day on meditation like him. The Soldier had to practice weapons, the Bard had to practice the instrument, only he could get stronger just by sitting there.

Of course, once entering the dungeon, the situation would reverse. Lin Rui's experience gain speed from killing monsters would leave him far behind, and Su Wan could also grind experience by chanting after her spell slots were exhausted. But Hu Jinsi wasn't anxious. His strategy was "chase with meditation outside the dungeon, and tag along with cooperation inside the dungeon." By walking on two legs, he would always be able to keep up with the main force.

Sunday morning, it was the weekly dungeon day again. This was the Jack-of-All-Trades Squad's fourth trip to Goldshire, and it was very likely the last. Last week's monster grinding had already exposed the bottleneck of this dungeon: the monsters were too scattered, and the quantity was insufficient. Whether it was the Murlocs at the Crystal or the wild boars at the farm, the time spent preparing and luring actually took longer than the time spent killing the monsters. "Let's see if there are any new surprises this time," Hu Jinsi thought to himself. "If it's still the same old faces, we'll have to consider changing dungeons."

[Setting Collection — Phantasmal Sound Sword Sect] [Phantasmal Sound Sword Sect] [Core Class Positioning: Musical Sword Cultivator. You are no longer just plucking strings, but infusing Qi into the sword blade; every sword swing is a soul-stirring performance. You are both a musician and a peerless swordsman.] [Class Introduction: The world only sees the sword light like a streak of silk, but not the sound waves rocking the nine heavens. You do not practice simple sword moves, but 'Sword Qi becomes music, music becomes murderous intent'. Every vibration of your blade cutting through the air is the plucking of invisible strings; every layer of mist you lay down is both a bewitching illusion and a strangling net. To the bystander, it is celestial music; to the enemy, it is the death knell.] [Class Characteristics: Your melee weapon attacks are considered musical attacks. You can use sword-swinging actions to trigger musical skills that originally required "performing". Your blade vibrates the air, capable of simultaneously causing physical damage and mental interference (original sound wave effect).] [Class Feats — Sword Roar Replaces Lute Sound: You no longer need to continuously perform "performing" actions to maintain the "Initiating Tone" state. Every successful melee attack of yours is automatically considered a perfect "Qi Check". (Unlocked with level increase) All your "Musical" based skills (crowd control, buffs) are now triggered by sword-swinging actions, and the effect range spreads from your sword tip or sword Qi as the origin. (Unlocked with level increase) Eternal Initiation Tone: As long as you hold a weapon and are in combat, your "Initiating Tone" state will never be interrupted, and movement no longer affects its stability.] [Class Skill Set — Thirteen Styles of Varied Phantasmal Mist: You have mastered a sword technique containing thirteen variations. Whenever you perform an attack or a specific action, you can choose to execute a style. These moves consume Qi, and each style has its unique "Mist" effect. Various variations are unlocked with level. Example: First Style · Like Shadow Following Form: After attacking, leave a patch of slow-moving mist (10-foot radius), enemies entering it have their speed halved; Fifth Style · Like Thunder Piercing Ears: When an attack hits, add an additional sonic burst damage, and stun the target (unable to act) for 1 round (Fortitude save halves); Ninth Style · Like Phantasmal Like Real: Erupt mist centered on yourself, causing all enemies in range to fall into hallucinations (treated as "Confused", randomly moving or attacking allies), lasting 1 round; Thirteenth Style · Ten Thousand Forms Return to Dust (Ultimate Style): Consume a large amount of Qi, instantly detonate all existing "Mist", causing massive sound wave damage to all enemies within the mist, and forcing them to make a Will save; failure results in unconsciousness.] [Class Skill — Formless Sword Domain (Core): When you execute "Varied Phantasmal" moves, a temporary musical domain forms around you. Within the domain, all your attacks have a guaranteed hit effect against enemies in the "Interfered" state (slowed, confused, frightened). Within the domain, friendly units gain "Boost" (like the attack bonus from "General's Command").] [Transfer/Advanced Conditions: Class Requirement: Musical class with 'Qi'. Attribute Requirement: Wisdom (WIS) ≥ 15 (Perception of Qi), Agility (DEX) ≥ 14 (Agility of a swordsman). Skill Requirement: Must master and be proficient in all musical scores of the ordinary stage, especially "Departing Soul Tune" (Hard Control) and "General's Command" (Boost). Feat Requirement: Weapon Mastery: "Huqin" or "Master Performer". Ritual Requirement: You need to experience an epiphany event. In a life-or-death battle, your Huqin (or other instrument) is destroyed, thereby obtaining the "Broken String Lute" (the destroyed instrument); you pick up a blunt heavy sword (or use the destroyed instrument as a sword), infusing your lifelong Qi into it. Complete the ritual of turning the broken lute into a sword.]