Rizz Taoist Master [A Reverend Insanity Fanfiction]

Scene Transmission!

Three days later, the vibes were... off.

"Ducking under a punch, that's the OG counter to a flying fist. When they throw hands, squat and hit 'em where it hurts. Don't fear the wild swingers, they're usually just noobs."

On the martial arts field, the instructor was doing a demo. A wooden dummy threw a punch, the instructor ducked, then proceeded to beat the dummy's virtual guts out.

The students were watching, but their attention spans were shorter than a Zoomer addicted to TikTok reels.

The academy had a whole curriculum, but this martial arts class was basically a boomer tutorial. Throwing hands and feet? That's so Gen X. Moonblades were the real flex, so everyone was mentally AFK.

"Next class is the Moonlight Gu skill check. How's the grind been?" "Meh, I can spawn three moonblades, but my aim's trash. Usually, I hit the dummy twice, if I'm lucky."

"Mmm, same. I even copped a grass dummy, it's been my whole personality these past few days."

The teens were whispering, totally checked out. They were lowkey panicking about the assessment, having been grinding hard after school. They were fidgeting, ready to drop the martial arts class and get to the moonblade showdown.

The instructor, overhearing their chatter, snapped, "No cap, no talking! Eyes front!"

He was a ripped Rank 2 Gu Master, his bronzed, scarred skin out for everyone to see, flexing his gains. His shout hit different, silencing the whole field.

"Martial arts fundamentals are the blueprint, especially early game. Focus or you'll get clapped!"

He summoned another wooden dummy, a two-meter tall chonker, its heavy steps echoing like a bass drop. The dummy rushed him, moving like a laggy NPC.

The instructor dodged, then yeeted the dummy to the ground with a pro wrestling move. He mounted the dummy and proceeded to beat it into a pixelated mess.

The dummy put up a fight for a sec, then its head was straight-up deleted, and it lay there, motionless, like a bricked console.

The instructor stood up, breathing steady, like he'd just finished a yoga sesh. "Against a big dude, don't throw hands, throw their balance. Like I did, grab their waist, control their hips, then yeet them. Then, mount up and start throwing hands. They'll fold like a lawn chair."

The students nodded, but they were giving off major "this is boring" vibes. The instructor internally facepalmed.

Every class was the same. These younglings were all about the flashy stuff like Moonblades. They didn't get the grind of martial arts fundamentals. Early game Gu Masters needed this, no cap.

"…In close combat, don't stare at their eyes, that's a distraction. Focus on their shoulder, that's where the real action happens…." "…Speed is meta, but I'm talking leg speed, not fist speed. Get your footwork right…." "…Distance is your best shield, keep your range…." "…Keep your legs springy, like you're about to double jump, that's how you burst damage…." "…When you punch, keep a triangle stance, or you'll eat dirt. Don't fall before they do…."

The instructor was dropping wisdom bombs, sharing his hard-earned tips, basically his life's work.

But the students were totally checked out, whispering about the moonblade skill check, like they were planning a raid.

"This martial arts sensei is giving off major jelqed temp vibes, but his teaching style is straight-up chaotic." Fang Yuan was chilling in the back, nodding and shaking his head, like he was watching a bad Twitch stream. The sensei had zero structure, just rambling about whatever popped into his head. The info was a hot mess, and the students were losing interest faster than a trending meme dies.

Fang Yuan was actually paying attention, basically speedrunning a review session. His combat IQ was higher than the sensei's, but listening was still a good way to double-check his strats.

Gu Master combat was basically two builds: melee or ranged. Moonblade was mid-range, ten meters, basically a close-mid-range weapon.

Melee Gu Masters, like the sensei, were all about buffing their physical stats. His bronze skin was a skin mod, courtesy of a copper skin Gu, boosting his defense and tankiness.

"A moonblade drains 10% mana. How many can they even throw in a real fight? Not many, especially noobs with potato aim. It's a finisher move, more intimidation than actual damage. Real skill for Rank 1? Throwing hands. Reliable. They'll learn when they get clapped IRL."

Fang Yuan was giving his peers the side-eye, a subtle smirk forming on his face.

Martial arts class was finally over. The elder rolled in, waving at the grass dummies. "Assessment time, gamers. Five in a squad, three moonblade attempts, let's see those clips."

Swoosh.

First squad rolled up, moonblades were flying everywhere, like a chaotic air show. Nine hits out of fifteen, total trash.

The elder was throwing major shade, visibly tilted. Hit rate was abysmal. Only two players even managed two hits, a whole skill issue.

"Practice more, especially you two, get good." He flamed them, then waved them off like they were a bad ping. "Next squad, let's see something decent."

The flamed players dipped, heads down, throwing major "sadge" vibes. One girl's eyes were red, like she was about to rage-quit. She was a C-tier player, couldn't afford pay-to-win essence refills. Barely practiced, resulting in potato aim.

Gu Masters needed cash for everything—crafting, raising, even practicing was a money sink. But she was broke. Even with her parents' handouts, funds were tight, a classic F2P struggle.

"I'm not winning, might as well save my stones." Her heart went from "tilt" to "zen."

A lot of players were on the same copium. Lack of practice = trash performance. The elder's frown was reaching critical levels.

Fang Yuan was shaking his head, throwing subtle shade. "These players are straight-up tragic. They're giving up on leveling up for a few in-game coins. Stones are for spending, not hoarding. Why even play the game if you're just gonna sit on your resources?"

Short-sighted players were penny-pinching, chasing after scraps. Real grinders were generous, knew when to let go of the small stuff for the big picture.