I Can Only Cultivate In A Game-Chapter 165: It Worked

He couldn't really come up with anything so he decided he'd log in back since quite a bit of time would have already passed in game.

The moment Victor tucked himself back under the bedsheets that night while clutching his VR helmet like a forbidden secret, he knew it was going to be a long night.

Still, he logged into Ascendant Realms with the same optimism he carried into every stupid decision:

'Maybe this time, I'll get lucky.'

---

He spawned back into the grim outskirts of the slum town.

Before he could even take three steps—

"You've returned."

Victor stiffened.

That damn voice.

Slowly, like someone forced to turn toward a horror movie jumpscare, he turned.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

Tarkos stood there under the same crumbling structure shadow with his arms crossed and a lazy grin on his face.

"You gotta be kidding me," Victor muttered.

The assassin flexed his fingers as his tattoos shifted like living worms beneath his skin.

Victor drew his sword and without even greeting the man, bolted in the opposite direction.

Tarkos blurred after him while attacking.

After narrowly avoiding another blow that would have turned his avatar into a meat smoothie, Victor threw himself backward—

[ LOGOUT ]

---

Real World — 1:12 AM

Victor lay under his blanket and stared up at the ceiling.

He exhaled slowly. "Okay. Maybe... he's asleep now."

It had already been thirty minutes since he last logged out so Victor decided to try again.

[ Logging Into Ascendant Realms ]

Spawn.

Step.

"You're back again."

Tarkos was sitting cross-legged this time, as if he'd never even moved.

His smile was even wider.

Victor's eyes twitched.

"Bro, get a hobby," Victor muttered while sprinting away.

Another clash...

Another ass-whooping...

[ LOGOUT ]

---

Real World — 1:45 AM

Victor tossed his VR helmet aside and stared at the wall.

"I am being cyber-bullied by a middle-aged tattoo enthusiast... does cyber bullying even exist in a cultivation world?

He buried his face into his pillow and screamed silently.

---

Over the next few hours, Victor repeated this genius strategy:

Log back in.

Get spotted.

Try sneaking. Fail.

Fight desperately.

Log out before death.

At one point around 3:30 AM, Victor even tried the world's worst ninja impression—crawling across rooftops slowly, hoping Tarkos wouldn't notice.

Didn't work.

"You're adorable," Tarkos had said, before launching him into a water barrel.

Victor had logged out soaking wet and furious.

---

By 4:50 AM, Victor was a broken man.

His eyelids twitched. His soul itched. His brain felt like mashed potatoes.

He flopped onto his bed like a corpse and whispered to the empty room, "This assassin has better commitment than my ex... oh wait, I don't have an ex..."

The academy's announcement buzzed through the speaker system, cheerful and cruel:

> "Good morning, students! Morning Routine begins in ten minutes!"

Victor let out a dead, rattling groan.

Time to be a responsible student.

---

Victor stumbled into the gathering zone, looking like a zombie who had lost the will to live.

Weights were strapped to his body again, and the instructors barked out orders.

Today was Obstacle Course Day.

Great.

Nothing like vaulting over spinning mana blades and crawling through trenches half-dead.

Still, Victor pushed through it mechanically.

He ducked, jumped, rolled, climbed, and sprinted — all while his brain screamed "sleep" at every step.

And yet strangely, he wasn't entirely terrible.

His cultivation-enhanced body was far sturdier than before.

Without qi enhancement, he was still faster and stronger than most.

He cleared the course — though several times he almost faceplanted into the mud because he micro-dosed naps mid-run.

---

Later — Lectures

Victor slumped into his chair during General Studies, barely keeping his eyes open as Instructor Lysandra Ravaryn-Duskbane lectured on the formation of defensive mana barriers across the continents.

His notes looked like the ramblings of a madman:

> "Mana... donuts... must protect barrier seals... sleepy sleepy."

He somehow survived two more warrior-focused lectures after that.

He remembered flashes:

Swinging training swords in tight formations.

Dodging practice mana blasts.

Almost stabbing a dummy instructor who looked suspiciously like Tarkos.

At this point, Victor was basically surviving on spite alone.

---

Evening — Dorm Room

When lectures finally ended, Victor all but dragged his body back to his room.

He collapsed onto his bed face-first, still fully clothed.

Moments later, a loud knock rattled his door.

"Mmmrghf," Victor grunted into his pillow.

The door swung open.

Danny walked in, still dressed in his training uniform and radiating way too much excitement for Victor's current mood.

"Bro!" Danny said while grinning wide. "You will NOT believe what happened today!"

Victor lifted his head halfway. "Someone finally replaced soap in the showers?"

Danny laughed. "No, no — dude, someone beat Veyla's high score on the Grip Challenge."

Victor's brain stirred slightly.

He sat up with a groggy look.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! It was nuts! No one knows who it was. The system just recorded it as 'Unknown'. Veyla went BONKERS, bro. I mean, she started smashing things. She tried to beat the score back. Got to Level 13 before the balls made her fingers bleed."

Danny reenacted Veyla flailing her arms around in frustration, which would have been hilarious if Victor wasn't three brain cells away from collapsing.

Victor chuckled weakly.

Danny plopped down on Victor's chair. "Bro, seriously, how is life treating you? You look like you fought a pack of magic wolves."

Victor blinked slowly. "Stuff. Been handling... stuff."

Danny tilted his head suspiciously. "What kinda stuff?"

Victor mumbled half asleep without thinking, "Game stuff."

There was a beat of silence.

Then Danny exploded.

"YOU BROUGHT THE GAME HERE??"

Victor grimaced.

'Oops.'

He waved his hands frantically. "Keep your voice down! You trying to get me expelled?!"

Danny leaned closer while grinning like a madman. "Dude... you're insane. I love it."

Victor sighed before dragging a hand over his face.

"Yeah, well. Turns out, it's not so fun when a tattooed boogeyman waits five days to stomp your soul every time you log in."

Danny blinked.

Victor groaned. "Long story."

Danny just laughed even harder. "Tell me about it."

Minutes later, Victor was seated cross-legged on his bed while staring blankly at Danny, who was still buzzing with excitement.

"So you're telling me," Danny voiced while waving a bag of chips around, "this tattoo guy just camps your spawn point, waiting to whoop your ass every time you log in?"

Victor nodded grimly.

Danny burst out laughing.

Victor threw a pillow at him.

"I'm serious, bro!"

Danny caught the pillow midair and grinned. "Easy fix. Just show up naked."

Victor blinked.

"...what?"

Danny shrugged before cramming more chips into his mouth. "I mean, if you show up naked, maybe he'll be too grossed out to fight you. Psychological warfare, y'know?"

Victor stared at him for a full five seconds.

Then—

His eyes widened.

"Oh my god."

Danny blinked with a confused look.

Victor's sleepy look vanished as he shot to his feet. "You're a genius!"

Danny grinned proudly. "Yeah, I know. Wait... huh?"

Victor wasn't listening anymore.

He was already scrambling to grab his VR helmet and gaming device.

Thankfully, Kairo wasn't around — maybe still doing personal training — so Victor had the room to himself.

He settled back under the covers and placed the helmet over his head.

---

[ Logging Into Ascendant Realms ]

Victor materialized once again at the outskirts of the shady town.

And of course—like some unholy boogeyman—Tarkos was there.

The assassin stretched lazily and cracked his knuckles. "You have once more returned."

Victor didn't waste time with banter.

He instantly whipped up a gust of wind using Wind Gale Art, which sent a howling blast toward Tarkos.

The force wasn't enough to injure the assassin —but that wasn't the point.

Tarkos shielded his face casually against the blast.

When the wind died down, Tarkos's cloak fluttered to the ground in tatters, leaving him standing there in only thin undergarments — most of which had been ripped open as well.

His heavily tattooed skin was exposed to the elements now.

Victor's sharp eyes gleamed.

'Now I can see every tattoo... and where they aren't.'

Tarkos noticed Victor's long stare and smirked.

"Interested in seeing a naked man, Fang Chen? I didn't realize you swung that way."

Victor's sword gleamed in response.

"Sorry to disappoint," he said casually. "I just like winning."

Tarkos laughed—and lunged forward.

Their swords and fists met with thunderous impact.

Victor who was now fully analyzing Tarkos's body, didn't aim randomly anymore.

Whenever he swung his blade, he targeted bare spots — small gaps on Tarkos's torso, hips, or shoulders where no tattoos decorated the flesh.

Every time Victor struck at a bare spot—

The tattoos writhed unnaturally, rushing to cover it like a shield.

But that was exactly what Victor wanted.

As soon as the tattoos shifted, another Wind Blade conjured by his free hand shot toward a new exposed side.

Tarkos staggered slightly when Victor's Wind Blade cut across his ribs.

Blood spurted.

The assassin grimaced, but recovered instantly and spun to deliver a brutal roundhouse kick that smashed Victor backward.

Victor flew across the cracked stone floor and bounced once before sliding to a stop twenty feet away.

He groaned but grinned nonetheless as he clutched his sword tighter.

It worked.

Tarkos licked the blood from his lips and grinned darkly.

"You're finally starting to get interesting."

Victor wiped his mouth and pointed the blade at him.

"You're gonna find me downright irresistible when I'm done."