My bizarre resurgence: My price is the ability to trade everything.

The lights in the underground training room were very bright, almost blinding.

I stood in the center of the training field, with Zhao Tiezhu about three meters away from me. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he had a confident expression on his face that said, "I won't dodge."

"Come on," he said, "try to touch me."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

Instructor Chen Xuan once said that the ability of the Balance of Costs to perceive is not just about "seeing" strange energy, but more importantly, about "touching" it. Just like the sense of touch, you have to reach out to feel the temperature.

I extended my consciousness.

That feeling was amazing.

It felt like an invisible thread extended from my chest, spreading in all directions. I could feel the presence of the walls, floor, and ceiling of the training room, but the feeling was vague, as if I were looking through a thick layer of glass.

"Not focused enough," Zhao Tiezhu's voice came from afar. "Focus a little more."

I frowned, trying to gather my scattered thoughts back.

But at that moment—

Something caught my eye.

It was Zhao Tiezhu. A faint light emanated from him.

No, that wasn't his own radiance. That was...

My consciousness suddenly crashed into it.

"Holy crap!"

Zhao Tiezhu screamed and staggered back two steps. His right arm hung limply, his fingers twitching uncontrollably.

"Old Lin, what are you doing!" He clutched his arm, his face contorted in pain. "I told you to sense, not to attack!"

I opened my eyes and saw a faint grayish-white line appear on Zhao Tiezhu's right forearm. The line, like cracks, covered his skin, but it faded away slowly after only a few seconds.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" I rushed over. "I didn't mean to, I just—"

"Alright, alright." Zhao Tiezhu shook his arms; they were still a little stiff, but he was fine now. "It's normal to lose control the first time. When I was practicing martial arts, I kicked my senior brother into the river three times before I learned to control my strength."

"But what you just did was—"

"Rules erosion." Zhao Tiezhu was quite philosophical about it. "It's not serious, at most it's a mild contact allergy, it'll be fine in a while."

He flexed his wrists, then looked at me, his gaze turning serious: "But that feeling you just had... wasn't just a simple sensation, right?"

I don't know how to answer.

It is definitely not just a simple perception.

In that instant, I felt an urge to "exchange." It was like a balance scale; if I added something to one side, something would be taken away from the other.

"I don't know what happened," I said honestly. "I was just trying to concentrate, and then... and then—"

"You touched me," Zhao Tiezhu said. "Not physically, but at the level of rules. You touched something about me and then took a part of it."

He looked at his arm: "It wasn't much, but I definitely felt something being taken away."

My heart started racing.

The cost balance... it can not only sense and transfer, it can also "exchange"?

"Take a rest first," Zhao Tiezhu patted my shoulder. "That last bit of exertion must have taken its toll; I see you have a few more gray hairs."

I subconsciously touched my temple.

Sure enough, a few more gray hairs appeared.

Noon, canteen.

I sat in the corner with my tray, a plate of braised pork over rice in front of me. Zhao Tiezhu sat opposite me, eating with gusto.

"Eat more," he mumbled. "You need to replenish what you've used up."

I have no appetite.

What happened this morning has been weighing on my mind. I don't know where my abilities lie, and I don't know what will happen if things get out of control.

What if it had been an ordinary person instead of Zhao Tiezhu?

Could those few seconds of rule erosion cause permanent damage?

What are you thinking about?

A voice sounded beside me. I looked up and saw Su Mingyue standing next to me with a tray in her hand.

"No...it's nothing," I said.

Su Mingyue sat down next to me. Today she was wearing the gray uniform issued by the General Administration, and her hair was tied in a ponytail, making her look neat and capable.

"I heard about what happened during training this morning," she said. "It's out of control?"

"Hmm." I lowered my head. "You hurt Tiezhu."

"He's tough as nails, he'll be fine." Su Mingyue smiled. "I'm more concerned about something else."

She took a tablet out of her pocket, tapped a few times on the screen, and then handed it to me.

It was a form.

The table is titled: "Cost Balance Ability Usage Record".

I took it and looked at it. I found that it recorded every time I used my ability since I awakened: time, place, method of use, duration, cost... I remembered every single detail clearly.

"When did you start recording?" I asked in surprise.

"From the first time I met you," Su Mingyue said, "I found your abilities very interesting, so I've been observing you ever since."

She pointed to a column of data on the table: "Look here."

The title of that column of data is "Cost Conversion Rate".

I don't understand what this means.

"Under normal circumstances, when the balancer uses the cost-balancing scale, the conversion rate is around 30%," Su Mingyue explained. "That is to say, if you want to transfer 100 points of cost, you must bear at least 70 points yourself."

"But your data is different."

She swiped the screen and brought up another number.

"Your average conversion rate is 45%."

I was stunned.

"45%?" Zhao Tiezhu also came over to look. "Isn't that abnormal?"

"This is not normal." Su Mingyue shook her head. "It's very abnormal."

She looked at me, her eyes holding something I couldn't decipher: "A Balancer's conversion rate is related to their talent, training level, and physical condition. But even the most talented Balancers at your stage will find it difficult to exceed 35%."

What does 45% mean?

"This means that for every 100 points you transfer, you only bear 55 points of the cost yourself. That's more than 20 points less than the average person."

Su Mingyue's expression turned serious: "This is a huge advantage. If you can maintain this conversion rate, with the same number of uses of the ability, you can last at least a third longer than others."

I don't know what to say.

High conversion rates are a good thing, but they also mean—

"How long did it take you to reach this level?" Su Mingyue suddenly asked.

"What?"

"I'm asking, how much time has passed since you first used your ability?"

I thought for a moment: "About... ten days or so?"

Su Mingyue's expression changed.

She stared at me for several seconds, then looked down and quickly swiped a few times on the tablet.

"That's impossible," she muttered to herself, "unless..."

"Unless what?"

Su Mingyue did not answer. She put away the tablet and stood up.

"I need to look something up," she said. "You guys eat first."

Then she left.

As I watched her figure disappear at the cafeteria entrance, I felt a strange, indescribable feeling.

"What is she investigating?" Zhao Tiezhu asked.

"I don't know," I said, "but I feel...it's related to my abilities."

Zhao Tiezhu nodded thoughtfully: "Speaking of which, your ability is indeed a bit strange. It's not just about the conversion rate; you seem to use it much more easily than we do."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I heard Instructor Chen say that other Balancers experienced great pain every time they used their abilities at the beginning. It felt like something was tearing their souls apart. But you don't seem to be in that much pain?"

I thought about it and realized that was indeed the case.

Although using abilities consumes lifespan and causes gray hair to grow, there is never that feeling of being "torn apart".

Is this normal?

I do not know.

Meanwhile, in the monitoring room on the third basement floor of the General Administration.

Chen Xuan stood in front of a huge screen wall, which displayed the live feed of the training room.

He's been here for almost a whole morning.

On the screen, Lin Xiaofan and Zhao Tiezhu are resting. Lin Xiaofan's expression is somewhat serious, clearly still blaming himself for his mistake that morning.

"A 45% conversion rate..."

Chen Xuan muttered to himself, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.

He held a file in his hand, with three words written on the cover: "Lin Zhengyang".

That's Lin Xiaofan's father's name.

The file had been turned to the last page, which recorded Lin Zhengyang's cost-to-performance conversion rate data during his second year of training:

37%.

It took Lin Zhengyang a whole year to increase the conversion rate from 30% to 37%.

His son, however, reached 45% in just over ten days.

"This child..." Chen Xuan's expression was extremely complicated, "What exactly did he inherit?"

He remembered what Lin Zhengyang had said to him before he died.

"If my son also becomes a balancer, tell him... tell him not to follow in my footsteps."

"The cost balance isn't just about transfer and exchange; it has another use..."

"Finding that usage will allow us to find a way to overcome the cost."

But Lin Zhengyang didn't have time to explain what that usage was.

he died.

He took that secret with him and left this world forever.

"Lin Zhengyang..." Chen Xuan murmured to himself, staring at Lin Xiaofan's face on the screen, "What exactly did you leave for your son?"

The afternoon training session continued.

But my mind was no longer on training.

Su Mingyue's discovery, Chen Xuan's silence, and the scene of losing control this morning... these fragments kept swirling in my mind, but I couldn't piece together a complete picture.

"Old Lin, concentrate!" Zhao Tiezhu's voice pulled me back to reality. "You're daydreaming again!"

"Sorry." I shook my head, clearing my mind of those thoughts. "Let's try again."

I closed my eyes and began to perceive again.

This time, I learned my lesson.

I didn't try to perceive the entire training room, but instead focused my attention on a small point—the faint light emanating from Zhao Tiezhu.

The light flowed across his body like blood flowing through his veins.

I approached it cautiously, feeling its temperature, its shape, its flow...

I dare not touch it.

I'm just observing.

"Not bad," Zhao Tiezhu's voice came from afar, "much more stable than this morning."

I opened my eyes and let out a long breath.

No more gray hairs appeared at my temples.

This time, I managed to control myself.

Training ended in the evening.

It was almost dark when I walked out of the training room. The dim yellow lights in the corridor cast a long shadow of me.

"You've had a hard day."

A voice sounded behind me. I turned around and saw Chen Xuan standing there.

"Instructor Chen." I stopped in my tracks.

Chen Xuan walked up to me and we walked side by side. He didn't speak, and the atmosphere was somewhat silent.

After walking for about a minute, he finally spoke: "I heard your stats were pretty good today?"

"Did Su Mingyue tell you that?"

"Yes. She said one of your indicators is unusually high."

I don't know how to answer.

Chen Xuan didn't press further. He simply sighed and then said something that baffled me:

"You look a lot like your father."

I suddenly stopped in my tracks.

"My father..." I looked at him, "Do you know him?"

Chen Xuan also stopped. He looked at me, his eyes holding too many things I couldn't understand.

"It's more than just knowing him," he said. "He's my senior in the martial arts school."

Then he left.

I was left standing alone in the corridor, my mind completely blank.

By the time I got back to the dormitory, it was completely dark.

I lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Chen Xuan was my father's junior fellow apprentice.

Su Mingyue discovered that my conversion rate was unusually high.

And then there's that feeling of "exchange" when things get out of control in the morning...

These fragments slowly pieced together in my mind, forming a blurry outline.

But I still can't make out what that outline is.

"Father..." I murmured to myself, "What exactly did you leave me?"

No one answered me.

Only the sound of the wind outside the window, howling through the corridor, like some kind of sigh from afar.