I stood frozen, overwhelmed by the influx of information, when suddenly,I felt a hand touched my back for a second I got shocked and paralyzed I was in anger when A notification flashed from the system: "Stay steady, don't move a step, and remain calm, or you'll receive a shock."
My anger surged for both system and that person when I was controlling my anger the hand slipped under my dress, touching me inappropriately more. My face burned with rage, and I was ready to react. But before I could act, the system's voice intervened: "Now, catch his hand and break it."
Confused but fueled by adrenaline with relief and happiness , I grasped the intruder's hand and twisted it with all my might. A scream pierced the air as the perpetrator's wrist snapped.
I turned to face the assailant, and my disgust deepened. An elderly man, with no shame or remorse, glared at me. "See this slave break my hand!" he snarled. "Attack this slave!"
His words only strengthened my resolve. How dare he? I stood tall, defiant, and unapologetic for defending myself.
I was also stood stunned, unsure how I'd become a slave I was not a slave how could he use such a word for me . The surrounding crowd's angry gazes towards .e intensified my shock and disgust around people here.
The owner appeared before me, his eyes blazing. "Who dares touch my girl?" he thundered. "If anyone tries, I'll kill them!" His released energy overwhelmed me.
Unfamiliar with such immense power, I sensed its magnitude through my spiritual abilities and measure his spiritual for now . It surpassed Saraswati Mam Ryu's and others', possibly even Akshar's, with a significant gap.
The crowd retreated as the owner's energy washed over them. The old man who had touched me sneered, "You can't do this! I let people enjoy whichever slave I buy. Can't you let me enjoy yours?"
His words left me aghast. What kind of place was this? Was this some twisted reality?
The owner's gaze turned icy. "You dare question me?" His voice sent shivers down my spine.
The old man's face paled, but he persisted. "I paid for her. She's mine."
The owner's response was immediate and deadly. "No one touches her. She's under my protection."
As the tension escalated, I realized my spiritual powers were still reeling from the owner's display. My mind raced: What was this world? Why was I enslaved?
Would you like me to continue refining the story?
[9/26, 00:09] Meta AI: Here's the text rewritten in paragraph format:
The owner declared, "I've never wronged a woman in my life, except for her. Don't try to lecture me." He turned to the crowd, his voice dripping with disdain. "We're leaving. We have more pressing matters to attend to. If I had the means, I'd buy all these slaves and free them. But this backward place is beneath me. You're all stuck in your ways."
His gaze swept the room, challenging anyone to defy him. "Mark my words, I'll return, and you'll pay for your actions. I'll ensure justice is served, no matter the cost." As he spoke, my respect for him grew. I shared his desire to bring down this corrupt system.
The crowd seethed with anger and fear, yet no one dared attack. Their eyes darted toward the stage, hinting at a larger, more powerful organization at play. I sensed a deeper dynamic at work, one that commanded reverence and obedience.
Just then, a voice pierced the air, shattering the tense silence. "Enough! Stop fighting! We don't have time for this. Participate in the event, or face consequences." The room fell silent, with all eyes fixed on the stage.
The owner's words still echoed in my mind: "I'll return, and I'll make you pay." What was this organization, and what event were they referring to? The air thickened with anticipation and dread.
The announcer's words barely faded when a 12-year-old boy stepped forward, determination etched on his face. With a resolute punch, he struck the stone, but it merely darkened slightly. The man overseeing the event nodded, "Core Evolution Stage 3." The crowd's shock was palpable.
The boy's attempt was followed by a succession of students of varying ages, each trying to turn the stone red. However, none succeeded until a 17-year-old youth approached. His punch ignited the rock, transforming it into a fiery red that deepened to blue. Gasps filled the air as someone whispered, "Core Evolution Stage 7! Impressive!" The announcer declared, "You're selected as an outer student."
More students took turns, with every three to four attempts yielding someone who could turn the stone red. Then, a 14-year-old boy stepped forward. His punch converted the rock to a deep, dark red, prompting someone to exclaim, "Core Evolution Stage 6!"
Just as the announcer was about to proceed, the owner stood up, his movements fluid and purposeful. He registered his name and approached the stone. As he punched, I noticed his technique was unusual, almost effortless. The stone transformed: light black, red, dark red, blue, and finally, dark blue.
The crowd held its collective breath, awaiting the announcement.
Someone screamed, "Core Evolution Stage 8!" as the owner received a token and two small cards. His impressive performance left the crowd in awe.
As evening approached, nearly everyone had finished the trial. Only around 200 people had passed, and where doing bid farewell to their family members to get ready to depart
Intrigued, I decided to test my power. I stepped onto the stage, approached the stone, and punched it with all my might. I waited for the stone to change color, but nothing happened. Disappointment washed over me as I returned to my place.
Some people snickered, and I glanced at my hands, realizing my weakness. The owner's gaze met mine, and I sensed a flicker of surprise. Some onlookers jeered, "See that slave's weakness! Her master must be weak too; he probably used temporary cultivation boosters."
But the owner's expression stunned me. His face turned ashen, as if he'd seen a ghost. His eyes locked onto mine, and he seemed about to speak, but his composure suddenly returned.
His gaze still lingered on me, filled with an unreadable intensity. What had triggered such a reaction?