High Martial: I Use Everything as Swords

That night, none of the four slept.

A row of cheap malt liquor bottles lined the table.

For the first time, the small dorm room was free from the grinding noise of wrenches and the sound of thunderous snores.

A strange silence filled the air.

They talked about who they were three years ago.

About the soaring ambition they felt when they first stepped into East Sea Martial Arts University.

And about getting chewed out at the maintenance depot.

The bittersweet mix of hardship and ecstasy when they received their first meager Contribution Points.

Pang Hu’s dream was simple.

He wanted to become a Martial Artist who could afford Tier Two Demon Beast Flesh for every meal.

Xiaoli, on the other hand, wanted to open his own repair shop on the edge of the Inner City.

So he would never have to answer to anyone again.

Zhou Wen adjusted his glasses.

His goal was to get into the School of Comprehensive Management.

To become a respectable white-collar worker and completely escape the dust of the Outer City.

"What about you, Feng?"

Xiaoli chugged a mouthful of liquor, his gaze burning as he looked at Han Feng.

"You’re already an Engineer. Next is B Level, A Level, maybe even one of the big shots."

"When that day comes, what do you want to do?"

Han Feng didn’t speak.

He just looked out the window.

The Spiritual Energy Shield cast a magnificent deep purple glow across the night sky.

Above that deep sea of light, there was a higher, more distant sky.

He raised his bottle and drained the last drop.

"I want to fly a little higher."

"To see just how high the sky really is."

...

As the eastern skyline was painted with the pale white of dawn, Han Feng walked out of the dorm alone.

He didn’t wake his three roommates, who were sprawled out asleep.

He treated them to an unprecedentedly lavish breakfast at the canteen.

Watched by his three friends—their gazes a mixture of envy, reluctance, and sincere blessings—he walked alone toward the logistics department building.

Unlike the grease-stained floors of the maintenance depot, the floor of Logistics Building No. 3 gleamed so brightly you could see your reflection.

The air carried the crisp, cold scent of disinfectant.

The female clerk at the reception desk had a practiced smile and a polite demeanor.

But there was a hint of rehearsed, professional distance about her.

However, after she verified Han Feng’s identity terminal and Zhao Yu’s notice, her smile became noticeably more animated.

"Technician Han Feng, welcome."

"Your promotion benefits are ready. Please follow me."

She led Han Feng to a locker.

She handed him a brand-new, deep blue uniform, a silver gear nameplate, and a key that glinted with a cold, metallic sheen.

"This is your C Level Technician uniform and nameplate."

"Your dormitory is Room 307, Building C, in Elite District 3."

"Your monthly salary has been permanently adjusted to 3,000 Contribution Points."

"All related privileges, such as the C Level Cultivation Chamber and C Level Canteen, have been activated."

Han Feng took the items and thanked her.

When he returned to the D Level dorm room, filled with memories, Pang Hu and the others had already packed his few meager belongings into a small bundle.

"Feng, is this all your stuff?"

Pang Hu’s heart felt heavy as he looked at the small bundle.

"It’s enough."

Han Feng smiled, picked up the bundle, and took one last look at the "pigeon coop" he had lived in for three years.

Then, he turned and walked away.

"I’m off."

"Yeah, come back and visit often!"

"Call if you need anything!"

Han Feng didn’t look back. With his back to them, he just waved.

With a single step, he left the crowded, dilapidated D Level Student Area, a place where despair and hope coexisted.

Looking back, it was already another world.

His new dorm was in the Elite District.

The space between buildings was luxuriously wide.

Exquisite gardens replaced the barren, exposed earth.

Even the Spiritual Qi in the air had a hint of crisp sweetness.

Area Three, Building C, Room 307.

Han Feng opened the door with his key.

A wave of Spiritual Qi, far denser than that outside, washed over him like a cool spring, seeping into his limbs and bones.

It felt as if every pore on his body opened up at that moment, greedily drinking it in.

A spacious living room.

A separate bedroom.

A spotless bathroom.

There was even a small balcony that got sunlight.

Although it was a two-person dorm, the other roommate had clearly not moved in yet.

For now, the entire apartment was his alone.

Satisfied, Han Feng put down his luggage, sank into the soft sofa, and pulled up his personal status panel.

Name: Han Feng

Profession: Apprentice Sword Cultivator

Cultivation: Body Tempering Sixth Layer (28/1200)

Contribution Points: 40,000

Staring at the string of zeros in his account, Han Feng’s heart began to pound forcefully.

The reward for taking the lead on the project, plus his previous savings, had made him a small-time tycoon.

’I can’t waste this vacation.’

Zhao Yu had given him an open-ended leave, a golden opportunity to focus on his Cultivation!

He immediately opened the university’s online store.

The listing read: "Rhino" brand Middle Tier Recovery Potion—300 Contribution Points each, with a 10% discount for bulk purchases.

Without the slightest hesitation, Han Feng placed an order for thirty vials and chose express delivery.

Nine thousand Contribution Points were instantly deducted.

But he didn’t even bat an eye.

Those cold numbers would soon be converted into raging Qi Blood within his body!

After doing all this, he made two calls in succession.

The first was to Uncle Sun at the Airplane Graveyard.

He confirmed that the Initial Training-3 was not only repaired but that Far Star Logistics had also covered a year’s worth of maintenance, so it was ready to fly at any time.

The second was to Zhao Yu.

"Engineer Zhao, I’m just checking in."

"I was thinking of using the break to head over to the Airplane Graveyard and get some practice in."

"Excellent!"

Zhao Yu’s voice was tinged with amusement.

"You can’t let your Talent go to waste! Go on, be safe, and let me know if you’re short on money!"

With the approval granted, Han Feng had no more worries.

He changed into his brand-new C Level Technician uniform.

The smooth fabric felt good against his skin.

The silver gear insignia on his armband, a symbol of his status, gleamed under the light.

He was going to the Outer City, to the Airplane Graveyard.

To turn those forty thousand Contribution Points into a tangible increase in his Cultivation Realm!

The hoverbus stop was as crowded as ever.

Inside the rust-spotted cabin, the mixed stench of sweat, machine oil, and cheap tobacco was suffocating.

"Squeeze in! Are you blind?! There are still people trying to get on!"

A burly ticket seller was shouting at the top of his lungs, shoving and cursing at a group of workers.

Han Feng had just squeezed onto the bus when he was shoved by the crowd and stumbled.

The ticket seller was about to snap impatiently when his gaze happened to fall on Han Feng’s armband.

On the brand-new, eye-catching silver gear.

His shouting stopped abruptly.

In an instant, the fat on his face contorted into a twisted, sycophantic smile.

"My, my!"

The ticket seller’s voice suddenly shot up, becoming high and shrill like a strangled chicken.

"This... this is a Master Technician!"

He spun around and violently shoved the people in front of Han Feng aside with his massive hands.

He forcibly cleared a path, bowing and scraping all the while.

"Sir! This way, please! There’s a seat inside!"

He rushed over to a seat in just a few steps and slapped the shoulder of a worker who was dozing off.

"Get up! Get the hell up! Make way for the Master Technician!"

The exhausted worker was fuming but didn’t dare say a word.

Under the numb gazes of the surrounding passengers, he could only stand up silently and retreat into an even more crowded corner.

"Sir, please sit! Please sit!"

The ticket seller was all smiles, even using his own grease-stained sleeve to meticulously wipe down the already clean seat.

The entire cabin fell deathly silent.

All eyes fell on Han Feng in unison.

Their gazes held awe, envy, jealousy, numbness, and also a fleeting flicker of longing.

This was the treatment a C Level Technician received.

This was the status that came with the Inner City.

Han Feng sat down, his expression calm.

He paid no mind to the fawning ticket seller.

Nor did he look at the complex gazes around him.

He simply leaned against the window, watching the dilapidated scenery of the Outer City rush by.

He knew.

From this day forward, he no longer belonged here.