Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 57: Warning

Chapter 57: Warning

The terminal screen still shimmered with the glow of Elius’s profile—his newly issued ID now tagged with an exceptional privilege:

"Two dimensional rift Entry Tokens – Unrestricted Classification."

It was rare. Too rare. Not even some D-ranked superheroes got that level of access without crawling through ten missions or saving a city. Yet here it was.

The old man leaned back in his seat, scratching his silver beard as if trying to itch out the reality in front of him.

Then, Elius spoke. "Can I use one of those entries for an unexplored dimensional rift?"

The words were calm, but they dropped like thunder in the room. The old man’s fingers froze mid-typing. His eyes lifted, squinting, as if trying to make sure he heard it right. His mouth opened slightly.

Then he blinked hard.

"...You want to what?"

"I want to enter an unexplored dimensional rift," Elius repeated.

There was a long pause.

A silence thick enough to cut.

Then—"Are you crazy?"

The old man stood so fast his chair rolled back an inch. His voice went from weary to roaring. "Boy! Do you even understand what you just said?"

Elius stared at him.

"Unexplored dimensional rifts are death traps!" the old man snapped. "They’re sealed for a reason! They have no maps, no threat analysis, no rescue protocol alignment, no back-channel escape support! You go in there, and you might not just die, you’ll vanish. There won’t even be bones to recover!"

He leaned forward, eyes sharp as knives behind his glasses. "Do you know how many heroes went into the last unexplored dimensional rift? Twenty-six. All of them F to E ranks, accompanied by one D rank guide. You know how many came back?"

Elius waited.

"Zero!" The old man flung his arms up. "They found fragments of their gear buried in shifting mud walls and melted equipment fused to a heat-ravaged ceiling. One even left a recording of his final moments—screaming about glass-eyed rats and time loops."

He jabbed a finger at Elius’s ID. "You think those ’exception tokens’ are a reward? They’re a responsibility. The system gives those only to potential high-risk assets—either people they think can survive it... or people they want to test. And I know which one you are."

Elius didn’t blink. "I still want the unexplored dimensional rift."

"Of course you do," the old man said bitterly, throwing up his hands. "Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you? All you kids ever think about these days is glory and spectacle!"

He began pacing behind the desk, muttering to himself. "These kids... these kids, I swear... No sense of survival, no patience, no understanding of consequences! I’ve been sitting here for twenty-seven years, and every time a golden boy walks in with shiny hair and sparkling eyes, he thinks he’ll conquer death itself!"

He turned, waving a trembling hand toward Elius. "Do you even know what an unexplored dimensional rift is? It’s not just a cave with monsters. No, no, no. These things are tears in space. Living fractures of some higher reality vomiting monsters and metaphysical traps.

"One of them rearranged gravity every thirty seconds. Another one had you stuck in a mirror dimension where time ran backward and everyone heard their own screams before they died!"

"Do you know how that felt to the ones watching from the outside?" he barked. "The ones who had to see a rookie hero age eighty years and rot into dust before they could pull him back with a recovery beacon?"

Elius was quiet. The silence between them stretched again.

Then he said softly, but firmly, "I know all of that."

The old man scowled. "You think you know. You kids read a file, see a power level, and think it’s an RPG stat sheet. But this isn’t a game, boy! You can’t just save, reload, and try again!"

Still, Elius stood firm. "It’s more rewarding," he said. "If I survive."

The old man sat back down hard into his chair, deflated like an old balloon. He rubbed his temples. "Rewarding. Always that word. Always chasing that shiny carrot..."

He sighed. "You’re not wrong. The system does reward unexplored dimensional rift completions with higher experience multipliers, power resonance events, sometimes even permanent mutations. But it isn’t worth it if you die on your first damn attempt!"

He looked at Elius again. "Look, if you must enter a dimensional rift, start with a finished one. Those are safe. Controlled. We’ve already catalogued the enemy behaviors, terrain hazards, and energy fluctuations. Some of them even have real-time supervisors monitoring your performance. It’s a perfect training ground."

"Or, at the very least," he continued, "try the explored but unfinished ones. Sure, they’re not fully cleared, but teams have already breached the core sectors. We’ve got data, intel, strategic layouts, safe zones. You won’t just die from stepping on the wrong vine!"

His voice rose again. "But unexplored?! You won’t even get a gravestone!"

Elius’s answer didn’t change. "That’s still what I want."

The old man stared at him. A long stare. His wrinkled hands stopped trembling. His breathing steadied. For a moment, the room felt heavier.

"...These people these days..." he mumbled. "They never listen. Not until the blood hits the floor. Not until they’re coughing up their own lungs and wondering why it hurts. They read too many comics, follow too many video feeds, think the Sword Immortal title makes them invincible."

He shook his head, muttering again, "These people... these reckless kids. Back in my day, heroes trained for years before daring even a completed dimensional rift. We wore training bands on our arms and practiced falling for weeks just in case we tripped on a broken tile. And now? Some skinny punk with a floating sword wants to be a legend after two days!"

His voice dipped into a low drone. "These people... I swear... first it was flying capes, then it was energy bloodlines, now it’s cultivation freaks with internal power mechanics... Back then, you needed to punch a truck to get noticed. Now they breathe energy and call it talent."

Elius stood patiently through all of it. Quiet, respectful.

When the old man finally ran out of breath, he stared one last time at Elius. His eyes were bloodshot, tired, and deeply resigned.

"...You’re not going to back down, are you?"

"No," Elius said.

"Haaah," the man groaned, finally accepting his fate. "Alright. Fine. Fine! You reckless monster-child. You want your unexplored dimensional rift, you get it."

He slapped the ID card back into the reader, his hands shaking slightly.

"I’ll process the request. But don’t come crying when you’re being eaten alive by a spatial wolf with twelve eyes and gravity breath."

Then he looked up one final time.

"Before I finalize it... just tell me one thing."

"What can you do, exactly?"

Elius nodded, not needing to think. "I can control swords with my mind."

The old man snorted. "Big deal. So can six other people this month. Got anything else?"

Elius answered, "I’m cultivating Qi inside my soul. And the more I fight, the more I grow. Fast. And Dao must take risks to get stronger and understand Dao fast is the reason I cultivate..."

The old man froze again.

His eyes, which had seen hundreds of rookies, flickered with a different light this time. Not just a surprise. Not just wariness.

Understanding.

Understanding your ass!

"...Cultivator, Dao, what the hell are those? This kid is fooling me. Let me see if you can survive an unexplored one; otherwise, you will be just another wasted soul," he muttered quietly to himself.

He stared at Elius for a long, long time. The kind of stare that felt like he was trying to peel through the skin and see the spirit underneath.

Eventually, he nodded. A slow, careful nod.

"...Alright," he said. "You do it."