[The player has completed their first assassination mission, successfully obtained loot from a corpse, and coerced another into committing a crime—actions in line with the character’s profile.]

“???”

Ivy’s face darkened. “I’m inherently good. All my actions were forced self-defense. System, don’t arbitrarily label me. That’s slander!”

[Rewards have been distributed. Rewards delivered!]

“…”

Ivy’s expression softened. “Fine, system. You know you made a mistake and are giving compensation. And it’s an immediate payout. I’ll forgive you.”

Ivy opened the reward. A silver exclamation mark on her 3D model exploded, transforming into—[Universal Skill Proficiency: 10,000 points.]

“As expected, this is a direct, immediate reward affecting my own abilities,” Ivy thought.

This reward indirectly confirmed that the previous rewards were external assets, which possibly got lost in transit.

It was like waiting for a delayed package delivery. You start wondering, did the truck flip? Did the delivery person get robbed? Was the package lost? Would I even get a refund?

After a brief pause, Ivy began studying the [Universal Skill Proficiency].

“So it’s points I can allocate?”

“Ten thousand points. Is that a lot or a little? I have no idea.”

Ivy’s gaze fell on the list of skills beneath her 3D model.

Universal Skill List:

Basic Punching (Beginner) [66/100]

Basic Kicking (Beginner) [14/100]

Physical Training (Not Acquired)

As Ivy scanned the list, a “+” symbol appeared next to Basic Punching and Basic Kicking. Nothing appeared next to Physical Training.

Ivy: “…”

All that hard work doing physical training… for nothing…?

Ivy fumed. Because my posture was wrong, I was just spinning my wheels, and I didn’t get any credit?

But then, Ivy reconsidered. Maybe the reason I sweat so much and my absorption rate is so hgih when doing physical training is precisely because I haven’t mastered the correct form?!

Because my constitution is weak, I haven’t acquired Physical Training, so my training is ten times harder, leading to higher energy consumption, faster hunger, and a rapid increase in the absorption rate!

It seemed the logic fit. The conclusion was—weakness becomes strength!!!

“I absolutely cannot allocate points to Physical Training. I have to keep training it this way,” Ivy said, a strange sense of pride filling her. Apparently, being naturally weak has its advantages.

She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, allocate points to Physical Training.

That left Basic Boxing and Basic Kicking.

Ivy silently commanded, “Destiny, allocate points.”

The icons blurred momentarily.

Basic Punching (Intermediate) [1/500]

Basic Kicking (Intermediate) [1/500]

[Remaining Universal Skill Proficiency: 9880]

A series of punching and kicking techniques inexplicably appeared in her mind. The movements were precise and fluid, each punch and kick seeming to utilize her entire body’s strength.

A strange warmth flowed through her limbs, focusing on the key points of each punch and kick, lingering for half a minute.

Ivy instinctively assumed a fighting stance, throwing a punch. She instantly felt the difference. Her previously stiff and slow movements were now fluid and precise.

It felt like years of practice had been instilled into her muscle memory.

Following her instincts, Ivy performed a full set of basic punching techniques. The set was short, taking less than five minutes.

“My movements are more precise. The transitions between moves are smoother. There are so many details I can refine in basic punching,” Ivy thought, comparing this to her previous practice sessions, which had focused solely on defense.

Then, she glanced at her skill panel and froze.

Basic Boxing (Intermediate) [1/500]. The value hadn’t changed?

“I carefully performed a full set of basic boxing, but my proficiency didn’t increase. Is there a problem with the system’s calculations?”

Ivy pondered for a moment, comparing the newly acquired memories to her previous training, her mouth agape.

The memories showed that she hadn’t just practiced 34 sets of basic punching and 86 sets of basic kicking. She had practiced approximately 471 sets of punch and 1477 sets of kicking.

Ivy roughly calculated that she had trained punching 13 times and kicking 17 times.

She considered two possibilities:

“First, there’s a multiplier applied to the actual training volume. For basic punching, the multiplier is 13. This means I need to actually practice 13 sets to gain one point of proficiency. The multiplier for kicking is even higher—17.”

“Second, it’s not that practicing 13 sets of punching increases proficiency by one point. It's that, within those memories, I only managed to meet the proficiency standard once for every 13 sets on average. Theoretically, out of every 13 punches, 12 failed, and only one succeeded. Kicking was even worse—17 attempts for one success.”

Ivy leaned towards the first possibility because the second was terrifying.

If the system had implanted memories with such a high failure rate, then her actual success rate would be abysmal.

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“It’s probably the first one. But how is that multiplier calculated?”

Ivy muttered, “Basic punching isn’t difficult, so it must be based on constitution. My constitution score is 49, so I need to practice 13 sets to gain one proficiency point.”

“Higher constitution, lower multiplier, fewer repetitions needed to gain a proficiency point.”

“That explains why those gifted students progress so rapidly in martial arts, upgrading effortlessly. While those of us with low constitutions, no matter how hard we train, make little to no progress, stuck in a rut.”

“There could be a difference of ten or even dozens of times in the multiplier, creating a significant gap within a year or two. The gap only widens over time, creating an insurmountable divide.”

Ivy, having grasped the key point, looked at the remaining [Universal Skill Proficiency: 9880], her eyes gleaming with avarice.

“The universal skill proficiency multiplier is 1. It probably ignores skill difficulty and uses a fixed multiplier of 1.”

“Theoretically, without using universal skill proficiency, I, with a constitution of 49, am a hopeless case. But if I allocate these points, I can become a terrifying monster in minutes.”

“After all, a multiplier of 1 is theoretically the lowest possible. Even a genius with a constitution of 100 might not achieve a multiplier of 1.”

“Nine thousand eight hundred and eighty points… such a waste to use on basic punching and kicking.”

Ivy now understood the value of [Universal Skill Proficiency]. These universally applicable points should be spent on the most valuable skill.

And,

The most valuable skill Ivy currently possessed was—[Crane Claw Technique]!

Allocating universal proficiency points to [Crane Claw Technique] was, in a way, wasteful. The bloodstained book clearly stated its specifications.

Martial Arts Rank: Rank Two

Training Focus: Claw

Minimum Requirements: Power 2.0, Strike Speed 1.5x, Skill 1.0

Recommended Constitution: 65

Warning: Failing to meet the minimum requirements may increase the risk of injury, including but not limited to muscle damage, tendon rupture, and fractured fingers.

A bright red seal from the Martial Arts Bureau was stamped at the bottom.

The Martial Arts Bureau had many functions, the most important being the annual martial arts exams, the classification of martial arts techniques, and the provision of training recommendations and requirements.

According to the Bureau’s latest regulations, most martial arts techniques could be classified into a nine-rank system, with Rank One being the lowest and Rank Nine the highest.

The ranking was determined by factors such as training difficulty, the number of body parts involved, the advantages after training, side effects, and overall lethality after mastery.

Basic punching and basic kicking were not included in this ranking system. They were considered basic training materials and were jokingly referred to as "rankless" martial arts.

Ivy hadn’t learned a single ranked martial art technique in her three years of high school. Besides poverty, the main reason was that even the lowest-ranked martial arts techniques required a constitution score of at least 60.

She couldn’t afford the training, nor did she have the courage.

The side effects listed were enough to deter most people.

“Muscle damage, tendon rupture, fractured fingers. That's it?” Ivy sneered, feeling no fear.

She flipped through the Crane Claw Technique. The entry requirements seemed manageable; she only needed a basin of iron beads and lubricant.

Ivy paused, pulling out a handful of iron beads from her pocket and swallowing them with a knowing look.

“I’ll stop by a bookstore on my way to work and see if there are any better manuals. Then, I’ll make a decision.”

Hearing a noise from the living room, Ivy stood up, pulling open the blinds. Higher City’s lights illuminated the Lower world, signaling the start of a new day.

At the bookstore.

The martial arts section on the second floor mostly contained low-ranked manuals, mostly Rank One and Two, with Rank Three being relatively rare.

Finding no higher-ranked manuals, Ivy was slightly disappointed, but not surprised. A bookstore selling low-ranked martial arts manuals was already quite good.

The more rigid the class system, the more knowledge was monopolized.

Common knowledge might be allowed to circulate, but advanced knowledge was strictly controlled by the upper class, a true seller's market.

You needed something more valuable than money to buy it.

The bookstore had three Rank Three manuals: Ox Demon Fist, Fiery Palm, and Long Arm Serpent Fist, priced at $29,000, $19,000, and $20,000 respectively.

Ivy whistled. “Expensive.”

She picked up one at random and flipped through it, discovering that these books only contained the cover, title page, and table of contents. The rest was blank.

They were like display phones in a store—only showing the training requirements and rank of the technique; the rest was just blank paper.

“Makes sense. That way, you can't memorize the technique,” Ivy thought regretfully.

Ox Demon Fist, Rank Three, focuses on blood and qi cultivation, consisting of sixteen movements.

Minimum Requirements: Power 3.6, Strike Speed 1.5x, Skill 1.2

Recommended Constitution: 70

Additional Requirements: Abundant Qi and Blood

Warning: Those who fail to meet the minimum requirements or lack sufficient qi and blood may experience widespread skin tearing and cardiac arrest.

Ivy couldn’t afford it. She browsed it out of curiosity, then her eyelids twitched, and she silently returned the book to the shelf.

The other two Rank Three manuals were slightly better than Ox Demon Fist. The side effects wouldn't be fatal; they would only result in hand injuries.

“[Iron Eater] should be able to mitigate bone injuries, and [Feast] can heal wounds. But techniques that risk death, even I need to be cautious about,” Ivy thought. She couldn’t afford a Rank Three technique, but the prices for Rank Two techniques varied greatly, ranging from $1,300 to $12,000.

Crane Claw Technique was listed, priced at $6,500.

There were no other particularly useful techniques, so Ivy left the bookstore. Her shopping philosophy remained simple: the most expensive is always the best.

She only had $1,715, making Crane Claw Technique the best she could realistically afford.

As she left, a perfumed saleswoman glanced at her dismissively, wiping the book cover with a cloth.

Expensive books should not be touched by poor people, even if it was just a display model.

The saleswoman, brimming with class consciousness, complained to the owner while wiping, “The Ninth District government should pass a law prohibiting poor people from entering bookstores.”

The overweight owner nodded in agreement, instructing seriously, “Wipe it clean, and be careful not to leave your fingerprints.”

The saleswoman found her boss rather foolish. She said smugly, “Don’t worry, boss. I’m wearing gloves.”

Leaving the bookstore, Ivy, unaware of the contempt she’d inspired, rode her bike to the incinerator.

Along the way, the number of gang members had increased significantly. They were questioning not only students but also drunk men and street vendors.

Their expressions were stern, their tones menacing. They were searching for someone who hid their mouth and nose—a lame man.

Ivy was also stopped. Her foot on the pedal, the other on the ground, she said calmly, “I haven’t seen anyone like that. I’m just going to work.”

The gang member frowned, staring at Ivy for two seconds before pulling out the list and glancing at it. “You’re Ivy, a student from that school, right?”

Ivy gave a wry smile. “I was. Now, I’ve dropped out. I’m just a corpse incinerator.”

“Where were you after school on March 15th?” The thug, following his instructions, began his interrogation, carefully observing Ivy’s reaction.

Ivy feigned confusion, recalling interrogation scenes from detective shows in her previous life, preventing herself from revealing anything.

She thought for a moment, shaking her head. “I don’t remember. I probably went home.”

The thug’s intense gaze softened slightly. According to Ma Ban’s instructions, a response of "I don't remember" was more natural. Those who immediately recounted their actions were more likely to be lying.

Normal people might not remember what they had for dinner the night before, let alone what they did on a particular afternoon ten days ago.

“On March 15th, many of your classmates dropped out. You didn’t. You withdrew on March 18th. Think carefully. What did you do after school that day? Why didn’t you drop out with them, but waited until March 18th?” the thug prompted, glancing at his notes.

Ivy suddenly realized. “Ah, that day, I was upset about dropping out, so I left school early and wandered around before going home to sleep.”

Gang Member: “Do you have any witnesses?”

Ivy shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe someone saw me. I wasn’t paying attention. Where else would I have been besides home that night?”

Ivy’s answers were vague, and she ended by turning the question back on them, appearing confused and calm, unlike a cunning murderer.

The gang member seemed convinced but asked, “Why didn’t you drop out at the same time?”

Ivy sighed. “I still had some hope. Besides, my father is a precinct officer, and he’s quite strict. I had to get his approval before dropping out.”

Hearing “precinct officer,” the gang member’s expression turned sour. He impatiently waved Ivy away.

Ivy pushed off, her bike wheels spinning, quickly disappearing…