"I'll beat you to death! Stealing my steamed bun, I'll bite you to death! How dare you steal my wife!" As he muttered, Little George got up from bed with his eyes closed, moving around the room with a fierce energy. He accidentally bumped into the table, but what made Ethan Brooks widen his eyes was that Little George actually bit down hard on the corner of the table, leaving a deep bite mark before returning to bed to continue sleeping, his snores soon filling the room again.

Ethan Brooks watched Little George for a long while. After confirming that this person had a habit of sleepwalking, he glanced at the corner of the table again, feeling that Little George was not to be provoked while sleeping. He carefully moved a bit farther away, lowered his head to look at the booklet, and his expression remained excited.

"Nine levels of Qi Condensation, the path of the Immortal Spirit, working for immortals, and being given a chance to become an immortal myself—this is the greatest reward. I refuse to believe that if I become an immortal, I can't also become rich!" Ethan Brooks gripped the booklet tightly, a strong light shining in his eyes. It was as if he saw another path for himself besides studying.

Just then, the door to the house was suddenly kicked open with a bang, and a cold snort followed into the room.

Chapter 0003: Promotion to the Outer Sect

"Going to bed early, huh? All of you, get up for your Tiger Lord!" As the two doors swung open, a burly man in a servant's robe strode in from outside, giving Ethan Brooks and the still-sleeping Little George a fierce glare.

"You two little brats, starting today, each of you will chop ten extra logs for me every day. If not, your Tiger Lord will tear you apart." The man spoke harshly.

"Greetings, Tiger Lord, I..." Ethan Brooks hurriedly got out of bed, nervously standing to the side. Before he could finish, the man's eyes widened.

"What's with that tiny voice? Think Tiger Lord's voice is too loud?"

Ethan Brooks felt a wave of ferocity hit him. Looking at the man's burly frame, he hesitated and said, "But... the senior brother in charge of the servants only told us to chop ten logs each per day."

"The extra ten logs are for me." The man snorted coldly.

Ethan Brooks fell silent, his mind racing. He had just arrived at this immortal sect and was already being bullied. He felt unwilling, but the other man was burly while he himself was thin and weak, clearly unable to resist. As he hesitated, he suddenly noticed the bite mark on the table corner and remembered Little George's formidable sleepwalking. An idea struck him, and he decided he had to give it a try. He immediately shouted toward the sleeping Little George.

"Fatty, someone's stealing your steamed bun! Someone's stealing your wife!"

As soon as Ethan Brooks finished speaking, Little George suddenly sat up, eyes closed, and roared, his face twisted and ferocious.

"Who’s stealing my steamed bun? Who’s stealing my wife? I'll beat you to death! I'll bite you to death!" Little George leapt off the bed, flailing wildly around the room. The burly man was stunned at first, then stepped forward and slapped Little George.

"How dare you act up in front of your Tiger Lord." The slap landed on Little George's face with a bang, but immediately after, the man let out a miserable scream. Little George, eyes still closed, had bitten down on the man's arm. No matter how the man shook him, Little George refused to let go even a little.

"Let go! Damn it, let go!" The man was also a servant, not a cultivator, just a bit stronger from years of labor. But now he was sweating from the pain, and no amount of punching or kicking could make Little George loosen his grip. In fact, the more he hit, the deeper Little George bit, blood and flesh torn, as if he was about to bite off a huge chunk.

The screams carried outside the house, immediately drawing the attention of the surrounding servants. At that moment, a cold voice came from outside, as chilling as winter.

"Noisy."

It was the voice of the horse-faced youth. Upon hearing it, the burly man immediately trembled. Even though his face was twisted in pain, he dared not scream any louder.

"If you anger the senior brother in charge of the servants, neither of us will have a good end. Make him let go—forget the ten extra logs!" the man said quickly, forcing himself to endure.

Ethan Brooks hadn't expected Little George's sleepwalking to be so fierce. Realizing things couldn't go on, he hurried over and gently patted Little George, whispering in his ear.

"The steamed bun is back, your wife is back too."

Little George's body immediately relaxed, and he let go, punching the air as he returned to bed, his face bruised and swollen, and soon fell back into a deep sleep.

The burly man looked at Little George with lingering fear, said nothing more, and quickly left the room. Ethan Brooks stood there in a daze for a while, then looked at Little George with admiration before carefully getting back into bed.

The next morning.

At dawn, the sound of bells rang outside the house. The sound seemed to carry a strange power, instantly waking everyone. As the noise of activity came from outside, Little George opened his eyes, staring blankly at the messy footprints on his body, then touched his face.

"What happened to me last night? Why does my whole body hurt, like I was beaten up..."

Ethan Brooks, who was putting on his servant's robe, remained silent for a while before speaking.

"Nothing happened. Everything was normal."

"Why does my face feel swollen?"

"Maybe the mosquitoes are just bigger here."

"Then why is there blood in my mouth?"

"You fell on the ground last night, several times," Ethan Brooks quickly said as he pushed open the door, about to step out. He hesitated, turned back to look at Little George, and said seriously,

"Fatty, you should grind your teeth more in the future—make them sharper if you can."