Dimensional Storekeeper

Chapter 193: Respectfully Blasting My Way to Greatness!

The edge between a clean escape or a crippled body.

And for someone such as Hao, who had never been smacked in the ribs but wasn’t exactly eager to experience it – should be pretty good investment.

So after spending literally half an hour scrolling, skimming, dismissing, then returning to the same scroll three times…

He finally picked one.

Burning Drive Art.

A movement technique that used solar qi not to vanish or blink through space –

But to explode.

Literally.

By channeling qi into any specific part of the body such as the shoulders, feet, hands, or even the lower back, he could hurl himself in that direction with violent force.

Forward, backward, sideways, midair, underground, underwater if he was feeling suicidal.

One burst per move.

Chained properly? He’d be flying across the battlefield in zigzags, too fast for anyone to catch.

Strengths?

Unpredictable dodges.

Instant directional bursts.

Incredible speed.

Could even weaponize the motion – adding an explosive punch to a punch.

Weaknesses?

Burn risk.

Misuse could fry a limb from the inside.

Not beginner-friendly. The manual said most users either learned fast or combusted early.

And while it looked flashy, it actually didn’t guzzle qi the way most high-end techniques did.

In fact, condensing solar qi into one focused body part made it surprisingly efficient.

A small burst could carry a person a long way.

Of course, anyone hoping to rocket through the air with comet-speed could just dump more qi into it.

Still.

It was badass.

And the lore?

Well. Hao couldn’t resist grinning a little when he read it.

Lore Entry: “I didn’t run away that day. I just ran through the problem.” – Chen Wu, the Blazing Madman.

Chen Wu had no spiritual roots worth naming.

Failed the entry tests. Twice.

No elder picked him. No technique accepted him.

He was the kind of guy sects didn’t even bother rejecting. They just ignored him.

But when things got messy, he was the first to move.

Not because of courage. Because he physically couldn’t hesitate.

The kind of person who would walk into fire just to see what was on the other side.

During the War of the Burning Plateau, he joined the Blazing Infantry as a foot soldier.

No one expected much from him.

But when the recruitment officer told him, “You’re not cut out for this,” Chen Wu headbutted a training dummy so hard it cracked.

They accepted him on the spot.

Carried sandbags. Repaired walls. Hauled carts.

Then one night, the enemy overran the eastern flank.

A demonic ash-hound lunged for his face.

Chen Wu shoved both hands to his chest, shoved all his solar qi into his leg, and detonated it.

The hound exploded.

So did part of his thigh.

He flew backward through tents, bounced off a wagon, rolled across gravel, and screamed the whole way.

But he lived.

After that, the medics called him suicidal.

He called it learning.

He kept blasting solar qi through his limbs, testing different directions, angles, and muscles.

Dodged arrows midair using palm bursts.

Slammed his forehead into flying beasts.

Refined the blast patterns until he could zigzag around a battlefield.

He burned trails into the dirt with every twist of his heel.

Eventually, the technique earned a name.

Burning Drive Detonation Technique.

Six cultivators tried to surround him once.

He ricocheted through them like a solar hammer.

When the smoke cleared, they were on the ground. He was still standing.

Shirtless. Smoking. Slightly confused.

He never got smarter.

He just got faster.

Fast enough to make up for everything else.

Fast enough to marry the aloof jade beauty second daughter of the Iron Vulture General after catching her mid-fall.

She refused to talk to him for two weeks.

Then called him an idiot… and kissed him.

He still can’t break past Foundation Establishment.

But even Core cultivators sit straighter when he walks into a room.

Over the years, he refined the technique into a safer, more stable form.

Eventually, he gave it a cleaner name. “Burning Drive Art.”

As long as you use it smartly, your limbs probably won’t explode.

Hao exhaled.

“See, that’s the part that sold me.”

He wouldn’t have picked this technique if that crazy man hadn’t refined it into something usable.

What was he, a masochist?

No thanks.

He had zero interest in cooking his own thighs just to look impressive midair.

His body’s already too pretty to roast.

But the fact that Chen Wu – absolute lunatic, battlefield menace, possibly concussed half the time – actually made it safe?

That changed everything.

Hao gave a serious nod.

Respect.

The man even bagged a baddie using this movement technique.

And lived to tell the tale?

Honestly?

Inspirational.

Movement, check.

Bonus offense, check.

Respect from Core cultivators, optional but noted.

Potential to unlock hot wives? That’s a stat boost right there.

Plus, it wasn’t just some fixed technique.

There were 36 core movements listed.

Shoulder bursts, back dashes, aerial twists, palm detonations…

But the note at the end?

Said the method was expandable.

That once you mastered the basics, it was totally viable to invent your own bursts and chain styles.

Customizable solar cannon legs?

Yes, please.

Hao rubbed his hands together, grinning.

‘Alright, Burning Drive Art…’

‘Let’s make some fireworks.’

Without another word, Hao tapped the purchase.

Almost all of his carefully hoarded crystals vanished in an instant – gone, just like that.

Only one lonely crystal remained in his stash, sitting there awkwardly, probably wondering why it survived.

Meanwhile, the Burning Drive Art had already shot itself into Hao’s brain.

Diagrams. Descriptions. Idiot-proof instructions. Cultivation notes written in thick, aggressive strokes. All of it jammed into his sea of consciousness.

He sat there for a few minutes, brows furrowed, trying to absorb it all.

“…Whew.”

Not just a movement technique.

It was basically: exploding qi + body launch = mobility.

Half technique, half lunacy.

Naturally, he had to try it.

Immediately.

He gathered solar qi into the back of both hands.

Just a little.

Not too much.

Enough to feel it humming under his skin, buzzing like a live wire ready to snap.

“Gentle test.”

He clapped.

PAK!

Both hands whipped toward each other with ridiculous speed.

The impact cracked louder than expected.

His palms turned red instantly.

His wrists were trembling.

A thin trail of smoke rose between his fingers.

“…Why did I think that was a good idea.” Hao said, teeth clenched as he shook them out.

The slap had been fast. Way too fast. Like he’d high-fived a volcano.

But also…

It worked.

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