Fail Hundred Times

The sun blazed high over Shrek City, bathing the bustling streets in warm, golden light. Merchants called from crowded stalls, peddling rare herbs and spirit beast materials, while the scent of roasted meats lingered in the air. Students in Shrek uniforms wandered in groups, their laughter mingling with the distant clatter of hoofbeats and chatter. 

But Huo Ye wasn't here for the scenery. 

He moved with purpose, his ragged black cloak hanging loosely over his shoulders. Dark hair framed his face, concealing the sharp focus in his gaze. Each step was calm, measured — but beneath his composed exterior, his thoughts churned. 

Huo Yuhao.

The name echoed like a drumbeat in his mind. A boy who would one day shake the foundations of the world. But the Huo Yuhao of now was fragile… a flickering ember struggling against the winds of fate. If Huo Ye found him first, he could mold that ember into something far greater. Something more than a pawn of destiny. 

He could make him family. 

But tracking him down wasn't so simple. 

Leaning against the rough wooden wall of a nearby inn, Huo Ye exhaled. His breathing slowed, steady and deliberate as his Observation Haki rippled outward. It was still weak — not enough to cover the entire city — but enough to sense the movement of hundreds. 

The world painted itself in his mind. Footsteps clattered on stone; heartbeats pulsed in rhythmic cadence. The sharp tang of emotions — joy, irritation, determination — all flickered like dying embers. Yet none of them matched the fragile will he sought. 

"Hmph… not here." 

He pushed off the wall with a sigh. There was no need to rush. Fate had brought him this far — it wouldn't fail him now. 

But fate was not the only force at work. 

A soft tug pulled at the edge of his perception. A distant thread of cold, muted pain… familiar yet foreign. 

It wasn't Huo Yuhao. It was someone else. 

Huo Ye's eyes narrowed. His Observation Haki honed in, sifting through the crowd until it landed on a small figure slumped against an alley wall. A boy — no older than ten. Dirt streaked his cheeks; his breaths came in ragged pants. 

No one stopped. No one looked. 

Huo Ye clicked his tongue in irritation. 

"Even in a city of heroes, there's no shortage of forgotten souls," he muttered under his breath. 

He approached the boy, kneeling down with calm detachment. "What's your name?" 

The boy flinched at the sudden voice, but his gaze flicked upward. Wide, hollow eyes met Huo Ye's. 

"… Jiao." 

Huo Ye nodded. "Jiao. Why are you here?" 

The boy hesitated, then lowered his head. "I tried to enroll… but they said I'm too weak. My martial soul is useless." 

Useless. That word again. Huo Ye's expression darkened. He understood that feeling all too well. 

"Who told you that?" 

"… the teacher." 

Of course. He exhaled slowly. It wasn't his place to meddle — not yet. But strength came from more than talent. It came from will, from desperation. 

And this boy… he still had that flicker of will. 

Huo Ye reached into his pouch and pressed a single silver coin into Jiao's trembling hand. "Eat. Rest. Then try again." 

Jiao's eyes widened. "But… I'll fail." 

"Then fail," Huo Ye said calmly. "Fail a hundred times. Fail until they have no choice but to remember your name." 

The boy stared at him, disbelief warring with hope. Then he nodded, clutching the coin with white-knuckled fingers. 

As Huo Ye rose to his feet, his gaze lifted toward the towering gates of Shrek Academy in the distance. 

Beyond those walls lay the future. His future. 

But before he crossed that threshold, he needed more than dreams. He needed strength. Allies. 

And a legacy to leave behind. 

The idea pulsed in his chest — a sect. Not for the masses. For the chosen. 

The Body Sect had cast him aside, branded him as useless. But he wouldn't seek revenge. No… he would rise so far above them that their pride would curdle into regret. 

But dreams alone wouldn't build a legacy. He needed strength — and not just his own. 

The Anime Power System had left him with three martial souls. Three gifts with the power to change the world. But they weren't meant for him. They were meant for his future disciples. 

The Dragon Soul. 

The Sharingan.

The Thousand-Armed Bhuda. 

Huo Yuhao would receive one. But who would inherit the other two? 

"Time will tell," he muttered softly. 

A savory aroma pulled him from his thoughts. He stopped at a small vendor selling roasted meat skewers. His stomach growled — a reminder that, even with power, the body had its limits. He dropped a few coins on the counter, nodding in thanks as he took a skewer. 

The first bite was hot, rich with spice. It reminded him of home. Or rather… his old life. 

He exhaled slowly, gaze drifting to the horizon. He could feel it — the storm brewing on the edges of fate. 

The world would not remain peaceful for long. 

And when the storm arrived… 

He would stand at its heart.