Qian Jin was even beginning to think that this inexplicable virtual game wasn't entirely without its merits.

It was just that with nearly a hundred life skills available, each possessing its own distinct characteristics, the sheer sight of them was enough to make Qian Jin’s eyes blur, making it impossible to decide immediately.

At this moment, the voice of the System Spirit echoed once more from the depths of his mind.

“My recommendation is to begin with Smelting and Blacksmithing.”

“Why?”

“According to the system scan, you possess enormous potential for development in Strength and Stamina. Blacksmithing and Smelting happen to be the optimal pathways to enhance these two attributes in the early stages of the game. Through them, you should be able to raise both attributes above 40 in a short time. By then, you should be able to participate in the game normally.”

“Wait… you mean I can’t actually play the game normally right now?” As Qian Jin listened, he suddenly felt something was amiss.

“Correct. Based on the system scan, your physical fortitude is far below the normal standard. You must undergo training before you are suitable for standard gameplay.”

“Physical fortitude far below the normal standard…” The phrase sounded distinctly awkward. Qian Jin repeated it several times before it suddenly dawned on him: didn't that essentially mean he was disabled?

Qian Jin felt both annoyed and amused. Despite his inherent deficiency in mental power, which made him unsuitable as a Mage, he had successfully tested into the Warrior stream at Oakland Academy based purely on his combat aptitude. Within just one month of enrollment, he had already earned the affirmation of his new instructor, Rodriguez, who called him a promising freshman.

To think that in this so-called virtual game, he would be labeled as disabled…

“I wonder if Instructor Rodriguez would also be evaluated as disabled if he came here…” Qian Jin muttered, pushing open the door to the smithy as he spoke.

The smithy was somewhat desolate, lacking the sparks flying and roaring furnace fires Qian Jin had imagined. An elderly blacksmith leaned against the anvil, smoking a pipe, occasionally erupting into a cough. The sound was ragged, like the bellows in the workshop, making Qian Jin wince with vicarious discomfort.

It wasn’t until Qian Jin pushed the door open that the old man finally raised his cloudy eyes: “The forge isn’t lit today. If you need something hammered, come back tomorrow.”

Rebuffed right at the entrance, the former Qian Jin probably would have turned and walked away immediately. It was thanks to the ‘Appearance Crime’ incident that, apart from any other improvements, Qian Jin’s skin had thickened considerably. The old blacksmith ignored him, but a smile remained fixed on his face: “I don’t actually need anything forged. I’m here to learn blacksmithing from you, sir.”

“Oh?” He had expected an immediate refusal, but surprisingly, upon hearing this, the old blacksmith’s cloudy eyes suddenly brightened. He stopped smoking his pipe and stared intently at Qian Jin for a long moment before shaking his head with a trace of regret: “I didn’t expect young people nowadays to still be willing to learn smithing. But it’s a pity, young man, your body is too frail; this trade isn't suitable for you. Furthermore, I’ve been a blacksmith my whole life, and I know how arduous the work is. Given your physical condition, you likely couldn't last a single day. You should go learn some other craft sooner rather than later…”

“Too frail?” When the System Spirit had mentioned his physical fortitude was far below normal just moments ago, he had been unconvinced. But now, even the old blacksmith said the same thing, and Qian Jin couldn't help but feel a prickle of doubt. However, he quickly responded, “As long as you’re willing to teach me, I can endure any hardship!”

“Is that so? Since you can endure any hardship…” The old blacksmith closed his cloudy eyes again, listlessly leaning against the anvil to smoke. Through the swirling mist of smoke, faint hissing sounds occasionally emerged from the pipe. After an unknowable amount of time, the old man finally opened his eyes and pointed the pipe toward a sledgehammer leaning in the corner of the room: “Then go fetch me that hammer.”

“Yes, sir!”

Qian Jin walked to the corner, attempting to lift the hammer that stood nearly half his height off the ground.

Who knew the sheer weight of the hammer far exceeded his expectations? With his strength as a third-rank Warrior, handling two or three hundred jin was never an issue. Yet now, Qian Jin strained every muscle, managing only to grip the handle momentarily. As for lifting the entire hammer, that was an impossible task.

Qian Jin estimated the hammer weighed at least a thousand jin.

A blacksmith who worked with a thousand-jin hammer—what concept was that?

But Qian Jin’s nature was equally stubborn. Just as he knew his inherent mental power was flawed, he had never stopped meditating, always believing that one day he would be able to sense the existence of elemental magic.

Not being able to lift the thousand-jin hammer didn't mean he would give up.

He gritted his teeth so tightly that the veins in his forehead bulged. With a sudden roar, he wrenched his hands gripping the handle with tremendous force. A piercing screech echoed as the thousand-jin hammer was actually dragged several inches across the floor.

He couldn't lift it, but he could certainly drag it, couldn't he? Although a few inches was negligible, it was enough for Qian Jin.

The pipe between the old blacksmith’s lips continued its rhythmic tap-tap, but in his cloudy eyes, a trace of appreciation, almost imperceptible, flickered.

It had only taken a few steps to reach the corner, but dragging that thousand-jin hammer back took Qian Jin a full two hours.

In those two hours of experience, Qian Jin gained a profound understanding of the difference between a thousand-jin weight and two or three hundred jin.

When he completed the final inch, Qian Jin collapsed, utterly drained. The sensation was like when he first entered Oakland Academy, and Instructor Rodriguez had made him run fifty laps around the campus. Every last shred of strength seemed to have been sucked from his body; his vision swam with multicolored lights, and he couldn't hear anything save for a high-pitched ringing sound…

Slumped on the ground, Qian Jin stretched his legs out powerlessly, gasping for breath. He wondered if any blacksmiths in the city of Oakland used such a hammer; perhaps the city was too small, or perhaps no blacksmith in this world used one of such staggering weight.

After an indeterminate time, the old blacksmith slowly lowered his pipe.

“Starting today, you are my apprentice, Old Black.” After uttering these words, the old blacksmith bent down and picked up the thousand-jin hammer. The hammer that had taken Qian Jin two agonizing hours to drag across the floor moved in Old Black’s hands with effortless grace. He flicked his wrist repeatedly, as if handling a feather duster rather than a thousand-jin weapon capable of smashing a man into paste with one blow.

He casually picked up a lump of raw iron near the anvil and tossed it into the furnace: “Light the fire.”

ps: New book, seeking recommendation votes, member clicks, and collections~~ Come on, come on everyone, don't be afraid of overwhelming me with support.