No Money To Cultivate Immortality? Chapter 157: The True Method of Sacrificing One's True Mind - Novel Cool

Chapter 157: The True Method of Sacrificing One's True Mind

Outside the Illusory Realm.

Song Xu stared at the scene before him, utterly astonished. "You’re telling me Zhang Yu’s cultivating the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique?"

Mo Tianyi frowned, equally puzzled. "Zhang Yu did register for that technique. And look—now he’s transformed into ailing laborer, grinding away on the Assembly Line. Isn’t that exactly what the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique is supposed to do? Make people endure more, suffer less, and demand fewer compensations?"

Song Xu stroked his chin, skeptical. "This technique was designed for the lowest class—those who have nothing. It’s meant to keep them working harder, healing slower, and demanding less. It’s a joke of a cultivation method—useless for anyone with real potential."

"He wants to use this to refine his Dao Heart?" Song Xu shook his head. "Doesn’t he realize that the more he conforms to this technique, the more he’ll become a passive, broken shell—someone who takes punishment without fighting back, who just suffers in silence? A walking corpse."

"Meanwhile, Bai Zhenzhen…" Song Xu mused, eyes narrowing. "Her Hanpo Ice Heart Scripture is deepening with every passing moment. In this environment, her understanding grows sharper. She’ll undoubtedly shine in the coming exams."

As Song Xu and Mo Tianyi spoke, the scene within the Illusory Realm shifted once more.

…

On the Assembly Line.

With her sharp confidence, Bai Zhenzhen pushed every worker to their absolute limit—draining them, extracting every ounce of effort. Under her cold precision, the factory hummed with relentless efficiency.

And in that crushing pressure, Zhang Yu felt his hope fading, like a candle guttering in the wind. The pain in his body flared like fire, searing through his nerves, making it impossible to focus.

"…So painful…"

He didn’t want to suffer anymore.

But he knew: to keep the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique working, to suppress the pain, he needed at least a sliver of hope. Even a tiny one—like the hope of finishing early and going home.

So he stepped forward, voice weak but clear.

"Boss… I’d like to take a day off."

Bai Zhenzhen’s gaze swept over him. When she saw his face, a flicker—subtle, but there—passed through her expression.

After hearing his reason—his pain—she gave a slight nod.

"Refusing overtime?"

When Zhang Yu nodded, she sighed, almost with pity.

"Looks like you’ve been pushed to your limit."

Then she turned to the crowd.

"Anyone else want to join him? Anyone else unwilling to work overtime?"

The workers exchanged glances—some eager, but too afraid to speak.

Bai Zhenzhen’s voice sharpened.

"Look at you all—nodding like machines, doing whatever you’re told. I hired people, not automatons. If you have a demand, a wish, a need—step forward and say it. Be bold!"

One by one, hands rose. Zhang Yu among them.

Bai Zhenzhen smiled, pleased.

"Excellent. Refusing the factory’s assignments? Then you’re all fired."

She turned to her secretary.

"Perfect timing. A fresh batch of graduates is arriving. Replace these old, sick workers—no severance. No compensation."

Under the flow of her Hanpo Ice Heart Scripture, every worker became just another variable—tools to maximize profit, expendable units in her grand equation.

With each decision, her Dao Heart hardened, more unyielding than steel.

But on the other side, Zhang Yu felt his soul collapse.

Hope—gone.

Work—gone.

All light extinguished.

When every possibility is taken from you…

What remains?

How do you find hope again?

How do you suppress the pain when there’s nothing left to hold onto?

…

Song Xu exhaled slowly.

"The Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique is still just trash. How could someone choose such a worthless method?"

"Making your mind align with a technique like that—what good is it? It’s just self-destruction."

Mo Tianyi, however, murmured thoughtfully:

"But enduring this kind of suffering… it must be forging his Dao Heart, right?"

Zhang Yu was a poor man. He hadn’t even qualified for the Top Ten. Like them—like so many others—he had no choice but to endure.

He spoke with quiet empathy.

"Compared to fighting back… resistance… the only weapon the poor have is patience. That’s all they can afford."

Song Xu watched Zhang Yu in the Illusory Realm, voice low.

"Keep enduring? But for how long? How much longer can he hold on?"

"No wonder he finally broke under pressure and signed under the rich."

"Good thing we didn’t invest too much in him."

"Someone so poor inside—choosing a heartless technique like this? Not worth a single coin."

Just then, the scene within the Illusory Realm shifted again—unexpectedly.

…

Zhang Yu stood frozen, hope extinguished, heart hollow.

All he heard was the groans of the workers, Bai Zhenzhen’s cold orders—

And beneath it all… faint, but unmistakable…

The distant sound of protest.

"Outside? Protesting?"

The thought sparked a faint light in his eyes.

At that moment, the technique in his mind, which had nearly stopped, stirred again.

In his mental vision, the crippled ox—once buried in mud, motionless from despair—now felt a sudden chill along its broken horn.

"The only hope left… is to fight."

"When all light is gone, when prayers go unanswered, when nothing remains… only with these broken horns can I carve out a chance."

"I will fight for justice. I will create my own hope."

In that instant, clarity struck.

The Cannibal Cow True Self-Sacrifice Heart Technique—was not about enduring pain to serve others.

It wasn’t meant to turn a man into a docile laborer.

Its original purpose? To comfort the disabled, ease their suffering.

But deeper still—its true essence was this:

In the face of absolute despair, never surrender. Fight, even if you have no chance. Fight until you create a sliver of light.

"Cannibal Cow, self-sacrifice… not to suffer, but to fight."

That was the true meaning of self-sacrifice.

At that moment, the 10th-level Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique surged within Zhang Yu’s mind—unleashing a tide of power he’d never felt before.

He understood it now—truly understood it.

With a roar that tore from his very soul, Zhang Yu charged forward, eyes blazing.

"I’m fighting back!"

Bai Zhenzhen froze. She saw Zhang Yu’s face—familiar, yet transformed. Her brow furrowed, and she stepped back. Yu Xinghan and the security team surged forward.

Zhang Yu clashed with them—no match in strength, but utterly fearless. He fought with the desperation of a man with nothing left—each strike a final act, each blow a death wish.

They were forced back, not by skill, but by sheer will.

After all—medical bills could be covered.

But a dead man? No amount of money could bring him back.

And the more Zhang Yu fought, the stronger he became.

In the depths of despair, the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique unlocked a reservoir of latent potential—pushing him beyond human limits.

The technique worked—better than ever before.

Seeing the guards retreat, the workers stirred. The factory floor trembled with unrest.

Bai Zhenzhen watched Zhang Yu—now a storm of defiance—and for the first time, her Hanpo Ice Heart Scripture faltered.

A flicker of hesitation.

A whisper of pity.

She didn’t want to see him beaten to death.

And as her heart wavered, her Zhen Linggen—the core of her Dao—reacted. The technique’s cultivation path shifted, subtly, unconsciously.

…

Song Xu watched, stunned.

"What’s happening? How can the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique still drive someone to fight like that?"

Mo Tianyi frowned. "Is there something deeper in this technique we don’t know?"

Then—something even more shocking occurred.

As Zhang Yu led the workers in defiance, Bai Zhenzhen finally intervened. She stopped the chaos—then announced:

"New benefits. Pay raise. Better conditions."

Mo Tianyi was dumbfounded.

"Is this… the Hanpo Ice Heart Scripture doing this?"

Song Xu smiled faintly.

"Thoughts change. Understanding deepens. And with that, the technique evolves."

"The deeper your comprehension of a technique, the greater its power.

But in reality, such growth takes years—lifetimes of trial and reflection."

"Yet the Illusory Realm accelerates it. It forces confrontation, pain, choice—speeding up the mental evolution."

"Look at them. Their Dao Hearts are stronger. Their techniques are more refined."

"This journey through the Illusory Realm will leave them transformed."

As he spoke, the scene shifted again.

…

With better pay, better benefits, the factory hummed once more.

Bai Zhenzhen remained calm—her control absolute.

But this time, her calm felt different.

Before, it was cold—calculating, devoid of feeling.

Now, it carried something else: humanity.

She no longer chased victory at any cost.

She chose what she believed in—regardless of risk.

"This is… knowing what cannot be done, yet doing it anyway."

"Living by your own principles, even when success is impossible."

She didn’t want to fight Zhang Yu.

Even if it cost her profits. Even if it risked failure.

She accepted it—calmly, firmly.

And in that moment, her Hanpo Ice Heart Scripture awakened—deeper, sharper than ever.

"Suppressing emotion, calculating only gain and loss—this is not true calm."

"It is just repression. True calm is standing firm after failure. It is pressing forward, no matter the odds."

"Even if you are certain to die… you still draw your blade."

She felt it—the technique flowing through her, unimpeded, powerful.

Her mind clear. Her body alert. Her Martial Energy blazing.

The greater the risk, the greater the pressure—

The calmer she became.

And then—she saw it.

The factory, overburdened by rising wages and benefits, collapsed under competition.

Another factory, cheaper, more efficient, swallowed it whole.

…

Mo Tianyi stared, silent.

"Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen… their intentions were good."

"If they hadn’t been forced by Zhang Pianpian, and if you’d guided them… they might’ve had a real shot at the Top Ten."

Song Xu gave a dry chuckle.

"But that’s the reality for the poor. No matter how noble your ideals, without wealth, they’re just illusions. They’ll be crushed by the world."

Mo Tianyi nodded. "Yet… in this Illusory Realm, they thought like us. Like us."

"Maybe… if we ask them directly, they can teach us how they grew so fast. Help us—poor people—break through the Heavenly Web and Earthly Net."

This was the core belief of Song Xu’s teachings—of the Poor Alliance.

That the poor must rise together, support one another, and fight the system.

They had poured everything into Song Xu—hoping he’d be the first to break the sky, and then pull them all up with him.

But Song Xu shook his head.

"The Illusory Realm is just an illusion."

"No matter what they believe in their hearts, in reality—they became dogs of the rich. We can’t trust them too much."

"Stick to my way."

"They’ll restart the Illusory Realm soon. Keep refining their Dao Hearts."

"Let me know when they’re done."

Two hours passed.

Then—Zhang Yu, Bai Zhenzhen, and Yu Xinghan emerged.

And in a hidden underground chamber, Song Xu knelt behind a mask, immersed in a strange ritual.

His mind whispered:

"Zhang Yu is exiting the Illusory Realm. Time to activate the ritual… and find his Evil God."

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end

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