Geniuses? I’ve seen plenty. I distilled them all.
Chen Fan was a cultivator so mediocre that you wouldn’t pick him out of a crowd.
His spiritual roots were nothing special, his comprehension was lacking, and he had few lucky breaks.
But he had one ability no one else did: calculation.
A cultivation technique not good enough?
Calculate it.
A spirit herb not pure enough?
Calculate it.
A Great Dao others couldn’t comprehend in a hundred years?
Bring it here and calculate it.
He didn’t need to become a genius.
He could calculate the path geniuses had walked, step by step.
He could calculate their insights into the Dao, their techniques, their supernatural abilities...
In the end, even the geniuses themselves became his “cultivation materials.”
And so, a legend gradually spread through the cultivation world:
There was a madman of mediocre talent who specialized in studying geniuses.
Study one, get stronger.
Study a whole group, get stronger still.
In the end, whenever the geniuses of the world saw him, they could only say one thing:
“Monster.”
Chen Fan was helpless.
“I’m really not a monster.”
“I just distilled all of you.”
Later, he calculated his way up to the Ninth Heaven.
The Heavenly Dao sent down tribulation lightning.
Chen Fan looked up at it for a long while, then suddenly smiled.
“This thing... can be calculated, too?”
With that calculation,
the Heavenly Dao fell silent.
And Chen Fan began distilling the Heavenly Dao.
