When one of them entered the range he had imagined with his mind to be enough, he swung the bag. Unfortunately, although the swing was fast, the disciple was too distant enabling him to evade with a backward step. As the momentum of the swing pulled Jing forward and his muscles were still recovering before retrieval, the other disciples took advantage of this opening.

The other leader of the bunch lunged in his direction with a kick to the stomach, something that Jing was able to dodge as he stepped to the side. But a sudden strong punch to the back of his head made his thoughts slow down as a sense of dizziness overwhelmed him. Before he could even stabilize himself, he found himself on the ground, suffering under their powerful legs in every inch of his body.

After tiring themselves out with his flesh, the leader of them finally said, "Let's go." The group then stole the two bags of resources but left the black robes. They carried Yu Yong who had passed out with them and left.

Jing weakly lay there, barely able to feel anything other than an intense warm shockwave of pain that pulsated through his body with every second. It was as if the blood inside of his veins hurt as it coursed through his beaten-down muscles. His black clothes were all dirty, his hair disheveled, his eyes swollen, his nose broken, and his mouth leaked with a continuous stream of blood. His chest weakly heaved up and down, and occasionally a contained groan of pain would escape his dirty dry red lips.

After a while, Wang Fei who was in a better state than Jing stood up and approached him with a slight limp. "I'll help you up," He said.

Jing's puffed-up eyes squinted even harder as he tried to open them, and the sun's bright rays almost blinded him. He swiftly turned his head to the side and took the chubby boy's hands to stand up, something that he did with much difficulty.

"Sorry," Jing said after standing up without meeting the boy's gaze.

Wang Fei seemed to understand his meaning and dismissed his words, "It's not your fault. The competition in the sects can be like this."

When Jing finally stood up, he noticed several opened windows from the nearby dorms where older disciples watched everything unfold with entertained expressions. His eyes widened in shock before they narrowed down in rage as he clenched his fists, increasing the pain he was feeling even more. He made sure to remember some of their faces as he and Wang Fei limped their way into their dorm with their black robes in hand.

"Can we do anything about this?" Jing asked on the way.

"Like report it?" Wang Fei questioned.

"Yes."

"It's not good," Wang Fei said. "We can but whether we can get our resources back will be uncertain. But it would ruin our reputation."

"Reputation?" Jing asked through another bout of pain as he winced forward. "Who cares about such things now?"

"If word got around that we involved the sect's staff in a private matter between disciples we will become a laughingstock." Wang Fei said. "We would seem even weak and possibly attract even more negative attention."

"I see," Jing said with a sigh. From what he had observed about the environment thus far, and especially the disciples, he agreed with him one hundred percent. In here might makes right, and if you were to show a lot of weakness you'd be devoured whole. At the same time, he also understood that this was an old sect, so some deeply held rules, traditions, and views would be deeply entrenched in their psyche. Here, men deal with their issues directly. To ask the sect for help for something that they probably considered normal would be one of the biggest sins a new disciples might do.

"So, what should we do?" Jing asked helplessly. Without their resources, they won't be able to break through, and to him, this could spell his death. The first game event would be held tomorrow, and if he wasn't at the Qi Condensation the chances of ranking in the last 100 would rise exponentially.

"We can either ask some of our connections in the sect to loan us some sect merits to exchange for what we need, or..." Wang Fei said, his voice trailing off.

"Or?!" Demanded Jing.

"We can go back to the treasury and steal them from other disciples..." Wang Fei said with a helpless smile.

"Connections..." Jing pondered aloud. "I don't have any, do you?"

"I have some cousins in the inner sect," Wang Fei said. "But we're not really on good terms. It'd be better if they don't know of my existence frankly."

"So if we want to strengthen ourselves, we can only steal it from others?" Jing asked slightly stupefied.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Yes," Wang Fei said with a disappointed tone. "Then those we steal form will steal from others, and it goes on like this until a group of disciples finds themselves weaker than most before leaving the sect or needlessly dying in a sect mission. These are all tacitly accepted rules. Resources are limited and they can only go to the best."

"That's very cruelly efficient," Jing said with a sigh. "Let's rest for a while and we will go. Alright?"

Wang Fei didn't say anything but merely nodded. Jing could see that he was as humiliated as he was, but deep down he was slightly disappointed in him. The two boys had more or less the exact same level of strength, and yet Wang Fei wasn't able to affect the fight in any way. He merely remained motionless as he was getting beat, something that Jing didn't know how to talk about.

When they were about to reach their dorm, Aukhman spoke in his ears, "The premiere will begin in an hour."

"Premiere?" Jing whispered back.

"It's when the host of the competition will hold an open introduction to the new games before releasing all of the players' first episode," Aukhman said.

Jing gulped at that as a wave of intense nerves and anxiety gripped him. "Why didn't you tell me about that before?" He asked back.

The demon only said, "Those were the rules given."

The duo finally entered their dorm and opened the door to their room. Zho Tu's eyes snapped open, and when he saw their disheveled state, his mouth parted open as a confused expression overtook his expression.

"What happened?" He asked, jumping from his top bunk bed.

Jing recounted the story of what had happened rendering the boy speechless. "I'll help you steal yours back." Zho Tu offered with a serious look.

"I won't say no," Jing said with a helpless chuckle. "I can barely scratch my head."

Zho Tu said, "Those two again? They're so despicable. We need to do something about them. At this rate, they won't ever stop."

As they were talking, the door swung open as a cheerfully joyous Shen Yun made an appearance with his bag of resources and black robe. When he noticed the two boys who were sitting on the lower bunk bed, he was stunned into a pause.

"What..." He mumbled. "What happened to the two of you?"

Jing slightly frowned as he recounted the story, expecting another wave of belittlement from him. However, Shen Yun only clenched his teeth in hatred too as he spoke, "We won't steal just from anyone, we will steal from them exactly."

"We don't know where they are," Wang Fei said.

"I made some small acquaintances," Shen Yun said. "We can easily find where they live and take everything they have."

Jing immediately agreed, "That's a good plan. But let us recuperate for a while, we can barely move."

Their thick door was once again pushed open, and this time the whole group stood up in alertness as they weren't expecting anyone. Two tall lanky middle-aged men in white robes appeared with a solemn expression. "Xie Jing," One of them spoke. "You're here?"

Jing had a bad feeling in his heart as he looked at the men's serious demeanor as they surveyed the room. He stepped forward and said, "That's me."

"Come with us," The other one said as he approached him and held him by the elbow.

"Where are we going?" Jing gulped and nervously said.

The man's face remained cold and indifferent. "You will know when you get there."

On his way, Jing stared at the two who were involved with him in the demonic matters with terrified confusion in his eyes.

When Jing was escorted out by the two men, Shen Yun and Zho Tu stared at one another. Seconds passed as they stood there in front of their wide open door, unaware of how to proceed. Suddenly, another two men appeared in the same attire. "Shen Yun and Wang Fei," One of them spoke.

The two mentioned raised their hands in both confusion and anxiousness. "Come with us," They ordered, and the two boys could only heed their call as they followed after them. Zho Tu remained there motionless until he decided to stealthily follow after them from a distance.

Jing was taken to another pagoda that was a short distance from the Treasury. This one was utterly black and carried a heavy sense of gloominess. 'The Disciplinary hall,' He thought with a slightly beating heart. 'What could be the reason? Because I hit that guy? But he wanted to steal from me.' He was still worried about the force used in knocking Yu Yong out of consciousness. He even heard a crack, and a broken dislocated jaw wasn't that far-fetched.

Nestled between the tall men whose identity he didn't know, Jing began climbing the small wooden steps in front of the pagoda before they entered.

Within the ominous disciplinary hall, darkness reigned supreme, enveloping the space in an eerie shroud of foreboding, making Jing even more anxious. An utter silence seemed to descend out of nowhere the moment he stepped foot inside. The walls, painted in deep shades of black, seemed to absorb what little light dared to penetrate the chamber, casting sinister shadows that danced along the grey cold marbled floor.

Rows of austere wooden benches lined the walls, their surfaces polished to a dull sheen. Several disciples sat there with fidgeting knees and sweaty palms. The air was heavy with the weight of nervous anticipation, as disciples shuffled nervously in their seats, acutely aware of the gravity of whatever it was that they had done. The silence was punctuated only by the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath restless feet, frustrating Jing.

The two men's steps were steady as they approached the wooden flight of stairs at the edge of the hall with determined steps. With every step Jing climbed, he could feel the weight on his shoulders increasing more and more. Not physical weight, but the emotional toll of what he was going through at that moment.

Once up, the two men gestured for him to continue toward a certain room, something that he did with much difficulty. Inside the room, a wisened old man in a black flowy robe and long dangling eyebrows sat above a simple mat. His eyes looked blank, and his face impassive as he gestured for Jing to sit down in front of him.

Jing heeded the old man's orders and said nervously, "I had to defend myself, he was going to steal my resources, and he did."

The old man seemed slightly puzzled before his regal collected voice thundered through the room in a paradoxical whisper. "I brought you here for something else. Do you know who I am?"

Jing shook his head to indicate his lack of knowledge as he fidgeted in place.

"I am Disciplinary Elder Shi Yan," The old man said in a cool voice. "I brought you here to ask you about the demonic cultivator you encountered."