SSS-Rank Talent: Super Upgrade System-Chapter 155: Basic Hygiene!

Daniel raised the spoon, the simple wooden utensil feeling heavier than his S-Grade Blade of The Night, and took his first, reluctant sip of radish soup.

It was still plain and earthy, yet in that moment, it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

The thin, watery soup flowed over his tongue like a lifeline.

His body, starved and pushed to its absolute physical limit, did not care about flavor or texture. It cared only for fuel.

The soft, slightly mushy radish chunks melted in his mouth, their earthy flavor sinking in as warmth spread from his stomach.

It was a humbling, almost spiritual experience.

He had consumed the essence of legendary beasts and tasted fruits that granted immense power, but this simple bowl of soup, born of his own humiliating failure, felt more vital, more necessary, than any of them.

He ate quickly, his earlier disgust forgotten, replaced by a fierce hunger that bordered on desperation.

He finished the entire bowl in less than a minute, the scraping of his spoon against the wooden bottom the only sound in the quiet room besides Old Man Hemlock’s satisfied chewing.

He looked at the empty bowl, then at his own blistered hands.

Despair loomed over him like a cold, heavy blanket. He was exhausted, aching, and still had no clue how he’d survive tomorrow, let alone find the Ten-Thousand-Year-Old Ginseng.

His pride, the pride of an SSS-Rank genius had been broken. But beneath the wreckage, something new was taking shape, a grim, unyielding resolve.

He would not be defeated by this. He would not fail the Principal’s test.

He looked over at Old Man Hemlock, who was now meticulously cleaning his bowl with a piece of dry bread.

The old man was a mystery. He was eccentric, possibly insane, and definitely deaf.

But he was also efficient. Incredibly so. There had to be a secret, a technique that Daniel was missing.

He had to ask. He had to swallow what little pride he had left and beg for help.

"Old Man Hemlock," Daniel began, his voice raspy from exhaustion and disuse.

Hemlock looked up, squinting, a piece of radish still caught in his messy white beard.

"What’s that, boy? The stew needs more salt? I told Silas, but does he listen? No! The youth of today have no respect for proper seasoning!"

"No, not the salt," Daniel said, trying to speak slowly and clearly. "The radishes. Pulling them. You have a technique. A special way of doing it. Could you... could you show me?"

It felt like admitting defeat, asking for help with something so mundane, so far beneath the grand cosmic scale he was used to operating on.

Hemlock cupped a hand to his ear. "A unique physique? Well, yes, I suppose my physique is rather unique for a man of my advanced years!

It’s all thanks to the nourishing power of the native ginseng! See? It keeps the joints supple!"

"The TECHNIQUE!" Daniel repeated, his voice louder now, laced with frustration. "For pulling the radishes!"

"Oh! The radishes!" Hemlock’s face cleared, as if the concept had only just occurred to him.

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Technique, you say? Hmm.

Well, the most important part of the technique is the cooking! You must boil them for at least two hours to get rid of the earthy bitterness, but not a minute more, or they turn to mush!

And a pinch of rock-lizard salt is essential! It really brings out the subtle, nutty undertones..."

He trailed off, lost in a world of culinary radish philosophy.

Daniel just stared, his mouth hanging slightly open.

The conversation was utterly, completely futile. The old man was either genuinely deaf or a master of deliberate misunderstanding.

He slumped back onto his lumpy bed, defeated. There would be no secret technique, no ancient farmer’s wisdom.

He was on his own. He would have to rely on himself, on his own grit and determination. He blamed his poor performance on his first day, on his hunger, on his pride.

Tomorrow, he vowed, would be different. He would eat the cursed radish stew, he would work until his muscles tore, and he would not be fired. He would not fail.

Exhausted beyond measure, he collapsed onto the bed, not even bothering to remove his dirt-caked boots.

He fell asleep the moment his head touched the lumpy pillow, only to be suddenly shaken awake just as he slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

"Get up, you filthy animal!" a high-pitched voice shrieked in his ear.

Daniel’s eyes snapped open. Old Man Hemlock was standing over him, prodding him in the ribs with the handle of a garden hoe, his face a mask of pure, unmistakable disgust.

"What in the blazes?!" Daniel grunted, trying to sit up.

"Look at you!" Hemlock shrieked, pointing a trembling, dirt-caked finger at Daniel’s clothes.

"Covered in the sacred soil of the garden! Sweaty! Smelling like a frustrated gloom-boar! ƒгeewёbnovel.com

You think you can just lie down in my clean hut like that? My home? The sanctuary where I commune with the spirit of the radish?!"

Before Daniel could protest, the surprisingly strong old man grabbed him by the collar and practically dragged him out of the bed and towards a small, adjacent washroom.

"You will bathe! Now! A clean body is essential for a clean spirit! And a clean spirit is essential for properly communicating with the native ginseng!

It’s basic hygiene, boy! Basic hygiene!"

Daniel was too tired and too shocked to resist.

He found himself standing in a small, damp washroom with a large wooden bucket of lukewarm water.

Hemlock pulled out a strange, lumpy dark brown bar that looked like soap and smelled strongly of medicinal herbs, mud, and a hint of burnt sugar.

"Here," Hemlock ordered, shoving the brown bar into Daniel’s hand.

"This is Cleansing Root soap. A special blend. Very effective. You will grind it into a powder.

Then you will scrub your entire body with it. Every inch! And I mean every inch! Your hair, your arms, your feet... even your teeth!

Scrub until you shine! I will be back in ten minutes to inspect your work. If I find a single speck of dirt, you will do it again!"

With that, the old man shuffled out, slamming the rickety door behind him.

Daniel stood there, dripping with sweat, covered in dirt, holding a lump of smelly brown soap, his mind reeling.

A warrior who had faced down gods was now being forced into a rigorous bathing routine by a deaf, radish-obsessed tyrant.

He looked at the soap, then at the bucket of water, and sighed. The path of cultivation, it seemed, was paved with endless, profound humiliation.

Having no other choice, he began to grind the mysterious soap into a powder, the strange, medicinal scent filling the small, damp room.

After the most rigorous and humiliating bath of his life, a process that involved scrubbing his teeth with medicinal-smelling brown powder until his gums tingled, Daniel had collapsed back onto his lumpy bed.

The exhaustion was absolute, a deep, bone-weary fatigue that even his immense Vitality, sealed as it was, could not completely ward off.

He expected to wake up feeling like a herd of Stonehide Crushers had run him over, his muscles throbbing with pain.

Instead, he woke to the soft gray light of dawn feeling surprisingly refreshed.

He sat up, a sense of profound disbelief washing over him

The muscle soreness, the searing pain in his back, the raw blisters on his hands, they were all gone.

Not just lessened, but completely and utterly vanished!

He felt refreshed and revitalized, his limbs light and filled with a quiet, steady strength.

He flexed his hands, and the movement was smooth, effortless. He even felt... stronger.

A subtle but undeniable increase in his base physical power, a solidity in his muscles that hadn’t been there before, even with his power sealed away.

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freew𝒆bnov𝒆l.c(o)m