The cell swallowed all light. No moon pierced its concrete jaws. Luo Feng sat upright on his bunk, legs folded in lotus position, palms upturned—a statue carved from shadow. Snoring cellmates drowned in sleep's undertow.
"Five Hearts to Heaven," he breathed, recalling the stolen manual's words. The only genetic prime energy cultivation method known to mankind. Warriors could begin once their bodies met standards, but sensing cosmic energy? That was the first brutal filter.
Most humans lived and died blind to the universe's invisible currents.
Geniuses feel it day one. Mediocrity takes years.
He closed his eyes.
Inhale—four seconds. Hold—seven. Exhale—eight.
Breath became metronome. Mind became still pond.
Hours bled.
"Where?" His eyes snapped open, frustration sharp. Had three hours of focus earned nothing?
He tried again. Deeper.
Fatigue dragged at his eyelids. Then—
Cold.
A ghostly chill seeped through soles, palms, crown. Like melting snowflakes kissing fevered skin.
There.
He jerked—the sensation vanished. But the afterimage burned.
"Passive absorption," he realized. His body had been sipping cosmic energy all along, drop by torturous drop. Now he pulled.
The trickle became a stream.
Cells ignited. Mitochondria roared. Energy fractured into primal strands, weaving new DNA patterns. Bones crystallized. Muscles rewired.
And in his brain—
The dormant zone that once triggered seizures pulsed gently, reshaping itself.
Evolution.
××××××
05:00
Clang-clang-clang!
Iron doors screamed. Inmates stirred like groaning zombies.
Luo Feng uncoiled from his bunk, grinning. Two hours of cultivation left him electrified. His fist clenched—1,500kg punch? Higher.
"Yo, Baldy!" A scarred inmate elbowed his cellmate near the wash trough. "Heard your new pet crushed four of Zhou's enforcers?"
"Kid's a fucking demon," Baldy muttered, eyeing Luo Feng's reflection in the grimy mirror.
Three prisoners lingered outside Cell 7.
"Age matches."
"Cell block's right."
"Strength fits Zhou's bounty."
Luo Feng splashed water on his face, energy still humming under his skin. Let them scheme.
August 1st loomed.
The combat assessment would rewrite every rule.