Every step Yuan Lin took up the stairs of that quiet, old apartment building was like a drumbeat in his chest.
He wasn't afraid.
Not in the true sense of the word.
Fear had been replaced by something else.
Something colder and more focused.
It was the feeling of a hunter approaching his prey.
He reached the third floor.
The hallway was dimly lit, smelling of dust and old wood.
He stopped in front of apartment door 302.
There was no sound coming from inside.
He closed his eyes and activated his `[Perception]` skill.
He saw the calm, blue aura of Master Chen inside.
He was sitting in the living room, in a meditative posture.
His flow of internal energy was as smooth and regular as a quiet river.
He was unaware of the danger standing on his doorstep.
"He doesn't expect an attack in his own home. He feels safe," Yuan Lin thought.
He felt a pang of something like guilt, but he crushed it immediately.
"It is weakness that makes you feel a false sense of security."
He didn't knock.
Knocking would give his opponent a warning, even if just for a second.
He needed the element of surprise.
He focused on the simple lock on the door.
Through his perception, he saw its internal mechanism as a complex web of rigid metal threads.
He used his new skill, `[Chaos Grip]`, and extended his mental "hand."
He didn't try to break the lock, but gently manipulated the internal tumblers, mimicking the movement of a key.
Click
A faint, barely audible metallic click.
The lock was open.
Yuan Lin took a deep breath, slowly turned the doorknob, and entered the apartment in complete silence, then closed the door behind him.
The apartment was surprisingly simple and clean.
It smelled of herbal tea and old books.
The furniture was old but well-polished.
It was a place that radiated peace and serenity, a stark contrast to the violent intent with which Yuan Lin had come.
Master Chen was sitting on a cushion on the floor in the middle of the room, his back to the door.
He was still in a deep state of meditation.
Yuan Lin knew this was his chance.
He had only a few seconds before his "spiritual sense" would detect the intruder.
He wasted no time.
He didn't move physically.
Instead, he unleashed all of his mental and psychic power.
[Leadership Aura - Level 7]
A wave of invisible pressure exploded in the room.
A cold, arrogant wave, filled with the intent of absolute domination.
The air itself suddenly seemed heavier.
In that moment, Master Chen's body tensed up.
His eyes snapped open immediately, not with surprise, but with the sharp alertness of a seasoned fighter who had sensed mortal danger.
He began to turn.
At the same time, his calm blue aura flared powerfully, forming an invisible shield of pure will around him to resist Yuan Lin's pressure.
But Yuan Lin had expected this.
The psychic attack was just a feint, a first strike to destabilize his opponent.
His real goal was something much deeper.
*"It's too late, old man"*, Yuan Lin thought coldly, as he began to execute the forbidden technique.
He focused on every thread of `[Gray Chaos Energy]` in his body.
He pulled it, compressed it, and began to weave it in his mind.
It was a painful process that required absolute concentration.
He felt as if his brain was being pierced.
He shaped this energy into a spiritual "needle."
A needle as black as charcoal, with a sharp, bloody thorn dancing on its tip.
This was the `[Ninth Hell's Blood Thorn Seal]`.
"Who are you?!" Master Chen finally said, his voice strained as he resisted the psychic pressure.
Yuan Lin didn't answer him.
All of his will was focused on that demonic needle.
Then, he unleashed it.
The spiritual needle shot across the room with the speed of thought, heading straight for Master Chen's forehead, for the center of his consciousness.
The needle collided with the calm blue shield that Chen had formed.
A silent explosion occurred.
The walls didn't shake, nothing broke.
But in the spiritual world, it was a devastating storm.
Yuan Lin felt as if his head would split in two from the force of the backlash.
The old man's will was as solid as rock, polished by decades of meditation and discipline.
The black needle cracked slightly.
But the chaos energy, by its nature, was stronger.
It was a primordial, violent energy.
It began to devour the blue shield, to corrode it like acid.
Cracks appeared on Chen's shield of will.
The old man groaned in pain, and a thin line of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.
His pure and calm internal force was not designed to repel this kind of brutal, direct assault.
"No...!" Chen whispered, realizing the nature of the attack.
With a final mental scream, Yuan Lin pushed with all the power he had.
The black needle pierced the cracked shield and sank into Master Chen's soul.
The old man's body shook violently, then he fell onto his side, trembling.
Yuan Lin saw, with his mind's eye, the seal branding itself onto Chen's blue aura.
A black, thorny tattoo, binding his soul to Yuan Lin's forever.
It was over in less than ten seconds.
Yuan Lin stood panting, feeling extremely dizzy.
He had succeeded.
But the victory was not sweet.
It tasted like ash.
A series of notifications appeared before him, but he could barely focus on them.
[The Forbidden Art: "Ninth Hell's Blood Thorn Seal" has been used successfully.]
[New Subordinate Acquired: Chen Lianshan.]
[The first member of the local "Faction Cell" has been established.]
[Warning: Forcibly subjugating a strong-willed being has caused a backlash. The host's soul has suffered a minor tear. Mental Stability -2.]
[A new stat has been unlocked: Corruption. Current Level: 1.]
He looked at the old man lying on the floor.
Chen began to slowly get up, his body trembling.
He raised his head and looked at Yuan Lin.
The wisdom and calm were gone from his eyes.
They were replaced by a complex mixture of fear, confusion, and a new, strange sense of imposed loyalty.
"M... Master," Chen whispered, the word coming out of his mouth with difficulty, as if it were foreign to his tongue.
Yuan Lin looked at his first subordinate, the first stone in the foundation of his "World Anchor."
He had gotten what he wanted.
But as he felt the sharp headache begin to pierce his skull, and the empty coldness that had replaced his ambition, he wondered about the true price of what he had done.
He hadn't gained a follower.
He had broken a free spirit.
And in the process, he felt that a part of his own soul had broken too.