The Outcast: A Max-Level System from the Start

A misty morning on Wudang Mountain.

Qi Ang clutched a crumpled canvas bag.

The air smelled of cheap lemon shampoo and cold earth.

Here, cultivation demanded insight. But for him, it only took two steps: hear it clearly, do it right.

Learn a complete mantra, and one use would make the technique his. Instantly, it was mastered.

A fan's dream come true. He stared at Wang Ye's dark circles in the cafeteria. He helped Zhang Chulan memorize the full text of the Golden Light Mantra in the woods. He didn't seek immortality or power. He only wanted the incredible techniques printed on the page, one after another, unleashed in the real world.

"Feng Hou Qimen is so cool."

"Now it's mine."

Logic roared. Cause and effect were reshaped. The ultimate technique clashed against his meager reserves of qi. In the narrow gap between life and death, he carried out the most reckless harvest of techniques.

On the long steps leading to the Luotian Grand Ceremony, Qi Ang lowered his head and watched the vortex of qi spinning in his palm. The sound of engines echoed monotonously from the foot of the mountain. He walked up.