Chapter 3: My Friend Has the Cure

Zhang Ze was stunned, shock coursing through his heart. He stood frozen for a moment, but thankfully, it didn't last long. In truth, Zhang Ze was inwardly roaring, "Block, block..." Only then did he recall Fatty Liu's infamous saying: "Girlfriends? Shouldn't a guy have at least ten or so?"

Before now, Zhang Ze had thought this fellow was just another sleazy youth glued to his screen all day. But looking at things now...

The first time he truly activated the skill granted by his system, Zhang Ze couldn't help but feel a mix of disbelief, joy, and shock. After nearly two hundred days in this new world, this was the first glimmer of hope he’d seen for making his mark, for gathering a harem—well, a circle of "friends."

"Honestly, if I become a truly formidable martial artist, getting a wife and making money shouldn't be a problem anymore, right?" While his mind was still drifting off into those fantasies, two crisp slaps snapped Zhang Ze back to reality.

He glanced at the two girls storming away, then looked at Fatty Liu's burning red cheeks—how could he not guess what had just happened?

"Fatty, what happened there?" he asked, barely suppressing a laugh.

"Ah... well..." Fatty suddenly seemed at a loss. He’d always considered himself a veteran of love, but this was the first time he’d ever encountered such a scene. Just moments ago, the two girls had been coyly nestled in his arms—how had things turned so quickly with two slaps? Confusion and pain left Fatty Liu's cheeks glowing.

Seeing Fatty's slightly aggrieved expression, Zhang Ze almost burst out laughing. Yet what intrigued him even more was how this plain fellow had managed to develop a charm-based innate skill. In a world of martial artists, abilities like these—straight out of a fantasy novel—were so unnatural that anyone who possessed them would likely end up as a lab rat.

"Me? I'm Zhang Ze, the chosen one, a transmigrator destined for greatness, practically radiating the protagonist's aura. How could Fatty compare to me?" Thought after thought raced through his mind. The successful activation of his first skill made Zhang Ze realize those wild dreams he’d harbored might actually be within reach.

A clear chime suddenly rang in his mind, snapping him out of his reverie. The system panel appeared before his eyes:

Wealth: 168,000
Cell Strength: 120
Cell Spirit: 120
Innate Skill: Block (Proficiency: 1%)

His gaze fell upon the last line, and seeing the updated information, he could barely contain his elation. At the same time, the system's mechanical voice sounded:

"Countdown to awakening of second skill: three days."
"First skill proficiency increased, risk of bodily overload eliminated."

Hearing this, Zhang Ze was overjoyed. He sprang up and threw himself onto Fatty Liu.

"Zhe, are you alright?" Fatty Liu still hadn’t fully recovered from the earlier scene.

"Ahem." After a couple of coughs, Zhang Ze composed himself. "Fatty, I’m in a great mood today. Let’s go get some barbecue—my treat!"

"Really?" Fatty’s eyes widened. Everyone said he was stingy, but after over a decade of friendship, Fatty Liu knew Zhang Ze was the real miser here. The last time this guy had treated him to a meal was after breaking up with his first love at eighteen—and even then, he’d only paid because Fatty forced him to while he was drunk.

Despite his rough exterior and hefty frame, Fatty Liu was actually quite perceptive. He’d already started piecing together what was behind Zhang Ze’s sudden generosity.

"Zhe, you should cut back on that pill business," Fatty advised as they strolled toward Old Bro’s Barbecue. "Those two major companies come down hard on unauthorized sales of cultivation pills."

Zhang Ze understood the unspoken warning. After all, Fatty also knew about his arrangement with Madam Fei to sell pills under the table. Hearing the names of the two companies, Zhang Ze grew a bit more cautious.

These two companies controlled all supplies necessary for martial artists’ cultivation in Dragon Country: one for pills, one for weapons. Zhang Ze, almost at the threshold of becoming a martial artist himself, knew their power well. Cultivation was a drain on resources—both pills and weapons were exorbitantly expensive, with even a first-grade pill fetching sixty thousand.

In essence, the path of martial arts was paved with wealth. That’s why martial artists were mostly members of the social elite. If not for the system panel gifted by transmigration, Zhang Ze could never have reached 120 cell strength in less than two hundred days. Nor would Fatty Liu have gotten those three first-grade strengthening pills from him. Only Zhang Ze’s system allowed him to produce a pill for just thirty thousand in wealth value—otherwise, how could he profit as a middleman?

Still, Fatty’s concerns weren’t unfounded. The Pill Company was full of powerful martial artists—he had no business crossing them for now.

He reminded himself to be careful, then let the matter drop. "I’m only moving a few first-grade pills. A company that big isn’t going to be bothered by me," he reassured himself. Turning to Fatty, he said, "Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing."

Even so, the changes in his system made Zhang Ze feel that the martial artist world was suddenly much closer than before.

As they spoke, they arrived at Old Bro’s Barbecue. The woman working outside clearly recognized Fatty Liu, greeting him warmly. As soon as they settled in a private room, the owner appeared, apron still on.

"Brother Liu, order anything you like," the owner said respectfully, handing the menu to Fatty.

Zhang Ze raised an eyebrow—he hadn’t realized Fatty Liu was such a social butterfly. The owner, well into his forties, addressed twenty-two-year-old Fatty as "Brother Liu" without a hint of awkwardness.

He soon learned the reason.

"Brother Liu, after studying those materials you gave me, I managed to handle things at home just fine," the owner said, visibly excited. A second spring at his age was no small feat.

Zhang Ze smirked as he watched the two exchange glances, choosing to remain silent. Once the owner had left, Zhang Ze eyed Fatty with mock suspicion.

Fatty Liu looked a bit embarrassed, shrugging. "Just lending a helping hand. No need to praise me, Zhe. You saw how enthusiastic that lady outside was..."

Fatty’s mischievous grin suggested he wanted to boast more, but Zhang Ze cut him off with a raised hand. Familiar with Fatty’s antics, Zhang Ze had no interest in indulging him.

He chuckled. "Didn’t you claim you’re surrounded by girls, Fatty? Why not call a couple over?"

Zhang Ze’s real motive was to test his system. Even though his first skill’s proficiency was now above zero and the overload threat was gone, he was always careful with his life—better to experiment on someone else first.

Fatty, of course, had no idea. He just assumed Zhang Ze was feeling left out after seeing the boss’s flirtation.

Fatty’s eyes immediately lit up. "Rare for you to be in the mood tonight. Wait here, I’ll get you some company," he said, whipping out his latest iPhone. As he scrolled through his contacts, he asked with a grin, "Say, Zhe, how’s your stamina? If you’re worried, I’ve got some pills for that too..."