As Huang Wen's mental focus locked onto the name "Sword Saint Dugu Jian," a translucent blue interface materialized, detailing the legacy of the man who had turned his very soul into a blade.
[Character: Dugu Jian][Essence: 208 points][Qi: 450 points][Spirit: 61 points][Skills: Saint Spirit Sword Art (Third Layer)]
First Layer: Sword One to Sword Eighteen (Extraordinary)
Second Layer: Sword Nineteen to Sword Twenty-two (Legendary)
Third Layer: Sword Twenty-three (Epic-Barrier Tier)[Equipment: Peerless Sword (Golden hilt, legendary sharpness, 3ft 9in, 8 catties)][Evaluation: A man whose body aged but whose spirit ascended. His 'Sword Twenty-three' exists in the boundary between life and death. His primordial spirit is functionally invincible within his domain.]
[Special Note 1: Primordial Spirit Projection. When using Sword Twenty-three, the soul leaves the body. The physical body becomes a hollow shell with zero defense. If the body is destroyed, the host remains a wandering spirit.]
[Special Note 2: Sword Heart Hell. This technique uses spiritual power to condense the 'Law of the Sword,' slowing or freezing the local space-time continuum. Only spiritual attacks can bypass this domain. Use results in total spiritual exhaustion.]
Huang Wen stared at the panel, his mind racing. Dugu Jian was a paradox—the simplest character he had ever drawn, yet the most specialized. Ip Man had more skills listed, but Dugu Jian had spent a lifetime sharpening a single concept. This was the first time a character had arrived with a "Legendary Weapon" and explicit "Special Notes," highlighting just how dangerous this path was.
"His Essence is mediocre compared to mine because he never focused on body tempering," Huang Wen analyzed, his eyes narrowing. "But his Qi and Spirit... they are massive. Especially that 'Law of the Sword.' Is that the key? The bridge from 9,999 to 10,000?"
"Integrate!"
The command echoed in his mind. Immediately, a sensation like a cold, sharp needle pierced the center of his forehead. His Essence felt a mild warmth, but his Qi and Spirit exploded. The Spirit attribute, in particular, didn't just grow—it sharpened, vibrating at a frequency that made the air in the training hall hum.
He pulled up his own status to see the transformation:
[Host: Huang Wen][Essence: 1,957 points][Qi: 847 points][Spirit: 82.4 points]
Note: Under Indestructible Diamond state, attributes hit the 9,999 cap. Silly Girl's integration adds 1,500 Essence, 150 Qi, and 15 Spirit. While Silly Girl allows a numerical breakthrough past 10,000, power without 'Laws' is fundamentally inferior to the Epic Tier.
"Even with Silly Girl, I'm just a bigger 'Legend,'" Huang Wen muttered, feeling the sheer density of his new spiritual power. "The 10,000-point mark isn't just a number; it's a qualitative change. It's the difference between a bucket of water and a block of ice. I need to understand this 'Law' if I want to stand a chance against the Phoenix."
He knew he couldn't just rush out and swing a sword. He needed to hibernate. He needed to let the Sword Saint's insights marinate in his own sea of consciousness.
"Silly Girl," Huang Wen called out, his voice already sounding distant as he entered a meditative trance. "Tell Belle I'm going into deep seclusion. Tell her not to worry, focus on her studies, and I'll make it up to her when I'm back. Monitor the school, but don't wake me unless the world is literally ending."
"Understood, Master. Locking down the fourth floor."
Huang Wen closed his eyes. He didn't even reach for the Peerless Sword; for the Sword Twenty-three, the physical blade was merely a suggestion. He was seeking the Sword of the Soul.
He thought this would take a few days. He was wrong. The "Law" was a labyrinth, and he spent a full three months wandering its corridors.
During those three months, the world didn't stop turning. While the X-Men searched for Jean and the Brotherhood licked their wounds, the Wing Chun Academy saw two very unlikely new residents: Bruce Banner and Betty Ross.
After the battle with the Abomination and the deep talks with Huang Wen, Bruce had finally stopped running. He went to Betty, expecting rejection or fear. Instead, he found a woman who was equally confused.
In the quiet of a small apartment before they moved to the Academy, Betty had finally confessed her "sin."
"Bruce, I... I feel like a monster," she had whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "I love you. I've always loved you. But that night... when the Hulk saved me from the helicopter... the way he looked at me... I felt a sense of security I've never felt before. I think I've fallen in love with him, too. It feels like I'm cheating on you with the thing that's destroying you."
Bruce had stared at her, stunned into silence for a long minute. Then, he started to laugh. It wasn't a bitter laugh, but one of genuine, hysterical relief.
"Betty, listen to me," Bruce said, taking her hands. "Huang Wen told me something. The Hulk isn't a demon inhabiting me. He is me. He's my repressed anger, my desire to protect, my rawest emotions given form. If you love the Hulk, you're just loving a part of me I was too afraid to show you. You aren't cheating; you're just finally seeing the whole man."
"Really?" Betty asked, her voice trembling.
"Really."
They kissed then—a passionate, desperate release of years of tension. The excitement, the surge of adrenaline, and the sheer emotional weight were too much for Bruce's control.
"Roar! HULK... HAPPY!"
With a green flash and the sound of ripping fabric, the seven-foot behemoth replaced the skinny scientist in the middle of the living room. Betty gasped, but she didn't run. The Hulk looked down at her, his massive green face softening in a way that would have terrified General Ross. He didn't rampaging; he simply leaned down and wrapped his massive arms around her in a gentle, albeit crushing, hug.