Chapter 67: Sounding Like a Lunatic

So-So stared at Donape in surprise.

It wasn’t because of his secretiveness, but rather a sudden realization: Why hadn’t she ever thought about joining the inter-sect martial exchange herself?

"Alexander, do you really want to take part in the exchange?" So-So asked, her eyes lighting up. "I don’t know all the details yet, but my grandpa is the Head Overseer—he definitely knows everything about it. Want to come with me to ask him?"

"Alright. Let’s go then," Donape replied.

As soon as the morning assembly dispersed, So-So led him toward the inner pavilion. Donape understood perfectly why she had suddenly become so eager. With her fiery temperament, the high-minded gentleness required by the Heavenly Cloud Sect’s core techniques would never suit her. For So-So, a chance to learn martial arts from another sect was an opportunity she couldn’t afford to pass up.

However, when they arrived and voiced their request...

"Impossible! That exchange is already finalized. I’ve already dispatched the selected disciples to all the sects in the southern region," Elder Cheon Di-Ma snapped. The old man looked genuinely startled that his granddaughter wanted to leave for another sect—something he absolutely refused to allow.

"So-So, can you wait outside for a moment?" Donape requested calmly. "Let me speak with Elder Di-Ma alone."

So-So hesitated, glancing between the two of them, but eventually complied and stepped out of the hall.

Elder Di-Ma was dumbfounded. Seeing his notoriously stubborn granddaughter obey a young boy’s request without a fight instantly set off alarm bells.

"You...!" Qi erupted from the Elder’s Dantian, surging into his palms as his aura flared dangerously. "What did you do to my granddaughter?! What is your relationship with her?! Speak now!"

Donape didn’t panic. Before the old man could beat him to death over an overprotective grandfather’s misunderstanding, Donape cupped his hands and bowed respectfully.

"Elder, I am merely a childhood friend of So-So. There is nothing beyond friendship between us. Please, calm your mind and hear this humble disciple’s request."

Elder Di-Ma frowned, his Qi slowly receding. He hadn’t expected a mere Second-Grade Disciple to remain so unflustered under his pressure, let alone speak with such clear composure.

"Speak, then. What do you want?" the Elder grunted, eyeing him coldly. "It’s obvious you used my granddaughter to get an audience with me to strike a deal. Audacious brat... do you think I wouldn’t dare strike you down right here?"

"This humble disciple wouldn’t dare play tricks before a wise Elder of our sect," Donape replied smoothly. "I simply ask that you consider adding me as a candidate for the inter-sect exchange."

"Did you not hear me earlier? I said the slots are filled."

"Elder, we are alone here. Can we speak frankly?" Donape looked up, his eyes sharp. "I inquired about the exchange before coming here, so I know quite well how it actually works. I am not here to ask for information—I am asking you to slot me in as a candidate."

"Before you’ve even passed the promotion to First-Grade? Amusing."

The Inter-Sect Martial Exchange was supposed to be a grand alliance event between the major southern sects—Mount Hua, Wudang, Southern Ridge, and Emei—under the noble pretext of broadening young disciples’ horizons.

Only First-Grade Disciples were eligible to be sent.

Yet, the "exchange" was entirely one-sided. Heavenly Cloud Sect sent its disciples out, but none of the rival sects ever sent theirs in return.

In reality, it was nothing more than a thinly veiled form of public humiliation targeted at the declining Heavenly Cloud Sect.

Because of the severe gap in foundational techniques, resources, and top-tier talent, every disciple sent out ended up ruthlessly bullied and outperformed by rival sect disciples. The Elders knew this full well, but they couldn’t refuse to participate—the constant threat of political isolation by the other four major sects hung over their heads like a blade.

Left with no choice, the elders made a habit of sending the weakest First-Grade Disciples as sacrificial lambs, sparing the sect’s true rising stars from having their confidence shattered.

Elder Di-Ma stroked his beard, eyeing Donape with a cold, evaluating gaze.

"If you’re so eager to volunteer, then I see no reason to refuse," Elder Di-Ma said flatly, making no effort to hide his disdain. "Sending a nobody like you is certainly better than wasting one of the sect’s precious talents."

Beyond the political convenience, the old man clearly still held a petty grudge over how easily his granddaughter obeyed Donape.

Donape merely offered a polite, soft smile.

He had known from the start that Elder Di-Ma’s earlier claim—that all the exchange slots were already filled—was an absolute lie. The promotion trials hadn’t even taken place yet; the elders were waiting for the current batch of Second-Grade Disciples to advance so they could pick their sacrificial candidates.

As for Elder Di-Ma’s petty insult? Donape couldn’t care less. He had dealt with far worse back during his real-life college days, so an NPC’s harsh words didn’t even register.

Having secured the verbal confirmation he needed, Donape bowed respectfully.

"Thank you for your generosity, Elder. I will ensure I secure my First-Grade promotion in the upcoming trials."

With his primary objective achieved, Donape turned and excused himself from the hall.

In the real world, inside the spacious, heavily guarded main hall of the Baek Family mansion, tension hung thick in the air as key members gathered to discuss the aftermath of yesterday’s assault.

"It was a targeted assassination," the subordinate reporting on the investigation stated, his voice tight. "The executioners were confirmed to be members of the Babylon Mercenaries."

An eerie, suffocating silence fell over the room the moment the name was uttered.

Great Guardian Mareum closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting out a slow breath.

’This complicates things significantly,’ Mareum though. ’For a player of that scale to enter the fray... just how deep is the grudge of whoever hired them to target the Baek Family?’

His body was covered in bandages, wounds from the previous day’s ambush still throbbing under his clothes. Opening his eyes, he slowly scanned the room. The hall was filled mostly with core Baek Family relatives, flanked by several high-ranking bodyguards of equal status to himself.

Mareum considered every single person sitting in this room a suspect—even if the likelihood of any individual here having direct contact with Babylon was nearly zero.

Great Guardian Mareum’s slow, evaluating scan of the room finally ground to a halt as a specific figure crossed his mind.

’Young Master Ji-Hong...’

If not for Ji-Hong and his direct retinue stepping up during the chaos, the casualties yesterday would have been catastrophic—enough to permanently cripple the foundation of the Baek Family.

Yet, Mareum knew for a fact that the Patriarch had never assigned elite shadow guards to the young master.

’Was that a secret arrangement straight from the Patriarch himself? Or is the young master hiding an incredible secret of his own?’

Keeping his thoughts hidden, Mareum excused himself from the tense council and made his way down the quiet, heavily guarded corridor toward the Patriarch’s private quarters.

Elder Si-Jin slipped out of the hall alongside him, parting ways toward elsewhere in the estate.

When Mareum pushed open the doors of the master suite, he was greeted by an encouraging sight: Patriarch Baek was awake, sitting propped up against his pillows.

"Patriarch. I am relieved to see you conscious," Mareum said, bowing deeply with cupped hands.

Stepping inside, Mareum glanced toward the side lounge.

Ji-Gal and Jo-Hyun stood near the window, their faces etched with anxiety as they waited for the attending doctor’s report.

Surprisingly, their focus wasn’t even on the Patriarch—they were waiting on the overall diagnosis regarding Ji-Hong’s condition. Even Patriarch Baek himself seemed eager to hear the results, despite his own weakened state.

Meanwhile, Ji-Hong sat quietly in a nearby armchair with a thoroughly bored expression. His annoyance was understandable; under Mareum’s strict lockdown—a decree fully backed by the Patriarch—no core family member was permitted to step outside the Main Estate without an escort of at least twelve fully equipped, undisguised guards.

With such a high-profile entourage, visiting Origins VR Cafe was bound to be an uncomfortable nightmare than usual.

"Sir, this is..." the head doctor began, holding the tablet scans with trembling hands. He had initially been baffled when Patriarch Baek ordered him to examine Ji-Hong first instead.

"Young Master Baek Ji-Hong... is completely fine. In fact, the chronic constitution that has weakened him his entire life... is gone. Completely vanished without a trace."

Ji-Gal and Jo-Hyun gasped in disbelief, their eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Patriarch Baek asked, his brow furrowed tightly.

"This... how should I even put it?!"

"Speak plainly," Patriarch Baek grunted. "Stop framing it like a suspense melodrama."

"Scientifically speaking, it’s impossible. But the diagnosis is accurate and unmistakable—I checked it several times. It is entirely a good thing! However, since a lifelong condition disappearing without a trace is unprecedented, extended medical observation will be necessary for the next several months—"

Hearing the word months, Ji-Hong’s expression turned instantly dark.

"No! I’m completely fine! Trust me!" Ji-Hong burst out, desperately grasping for any excuse to escape the estate lockdown. "That kind of observation isn’t needed at all! I got cured because I received treatment while playing outside!"

"Treatment?" Patriarch Baek frowned, eyeing his grandson skeptically. "You did something to cure it? Don’t talk nonsense."

"It’s not nonsense! I really healed it by playing VR games at Origins VR Cafe!"

Hearing those words, every single person present felt as though their common sense had been completely turned upside down.