Since all six emotions needed to reach a certain level for conversion, even if the other five were relatively easy to obtain, what good would it do without love?
Not a single one could be missing!
In fact, all of this was still just speculation. Even if he managed to gather six types of emotions, it might still be useless.
"Enough thinking."
Pushing aside the flood of thoughts in his mind, Merritt began to focus on things other than cultivation.
Because his appearance had changed so drastically, he couldn't return to Europe for the time being.
He had to stay in Ancient Splendor. He found a job and could start work tomorrow. But the real reason he traveled all this way was...
To find someone.
That childhood playmate from his memories, the little girl nicknamed "Hamilton."
He had barely any clues, he was only a few years old back then, and most of the memories had already gone fuzzy.
All he remembered was her nickname, and that his mom once told him they used to live in Bien City, in a place called Seven Mile Ridge in the Riverside District.
Tomorrow, he'd report to the company. He planned to look for her over the weekend.
It was already afternoon when Merritt got back from the hospital. After spacing out for a while, he noticed it was getting dark and his stomach was rumbling.
He hadn't even eaten lunch yet.
The small motel in the village was not just run-down, it was barely managed at all. People could come and go as they pleased.
From a safety point of view, it was honestly sketchy. But there was a silver lining to everything, like all the random little cards slipped under the door.
Innocent college student for companionship…
Rich woman offering big rewards for pregnancy help…
Special jobs paying $500 a day...
Merritt tossed all the cards into the trash and picked out one that advertised cheap fast food.
After ordering some, Merritt lay back on his bed.
Ring, ring...
Just then, the motel room phone rang.
Merritt picked it up. A sugary-sweet voice came through the line. "Boss, I'm a student from Bien City Polytechnic. My family's in trouble financially…"
"If you don't want money, just come over," Merritt said seriously.
Beep, beep, beep...
He heard the busy tone and shrugged before setting the phone back down.
About ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door.
So fast?
Merritt raised a brow. It hadn't even been twenty minutes since he ordered food. He figured it was the delivery guy and got up to open the door.
Suddenly!
Right as he opened the door, a woman with a thick layer of makeup and an unrecognizable face barged inside.
She was dressed ridiculously provocatively, with way too much skin showing, and the strong smell of cheap perfume hit Merritt like a punch to the nose.
"Get out," Merritt said, frowning.
He thought to himself, he'd clearly rejected her over the phone, yet she still forced her way in. Was she really willing to do it for free?
Of course, even if she paid him, he still wouldn't touch her. He'd seen enough actual beauties in his life.
Hiss!
As the woman barged in and Merritt coldly told her to leave, something insane happened.
The woman suddenly ripped her own shirt, exposing most of her chest, and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Help! He's assaulting me!"
What the hell!?
Merritt instantly realized something was off.
And sure enough, just as the woman screamed and he rushed over to push her out, a group of furious, muscular men stormed into the room.
Three words flashed in Merritt's head...honey trap!
This honey trap was insane.
Even if you wanted to pull something like this, shouldn't there at least be some kind of setup?
The woman had literally just burst in, ripped her shirt, and screamed. The door wasn't even locked.
He hadn't touched her.
Then these guys stormed in without even trying to act like it was legit. No rules, no warning.
Wait—
Merritt's heart skipped a beat. This wasn't a normal honey trap. Something was definitely off.
"Is it money you want?" Merritt asked calmly.
"Dare to touch my woman? You're dead!"
The guy in front, looking like he wanted to kill someone, pointed straight at Merritt and shouted, "Beat him! Beat him to death! This dog must be tired of living!"
That confirmed it, this wasn't right at all.
If this was just a scam to get money, they should've at least tried to threaten him first, make some demands. Who just starts swinging fists right away?
Without saying another word, the three guys behind the leader charged at him, fists raised and ready to smash.
A sharp glint flashed in Merritt's eyes.
He quickly took two steps back, reaching behind him to grab the nightstand. Then, moving with almost unnatural speed, he dodged to the side and swung his right arm hard.
Thud!
One of the guys froze mid-run as his vision blurred and his head started ringing.
Instinctively, he wiped at his face and felt warm blood. He looked up to see Merritt holding a thick glass ashtray. It hadn't even cracked.
Unlike his skull.
The thug collapsed to the ground like a sack of bricks.
Had Merritt lost all his martial arts skills?
Yeah, he had. His inner energy was completely gone. But that didn't mean he was helpless.
His actual combat skills were still there. His body had fully recovered, and his strength and agility were at their prime.
All that training he did over the years had built him into a fighter way stronger than the average person.
These low-level street thugs weren't even a warm-up.
Quick reflexes.
Lightning-fast strikes.
Right after knocking out the first guy, Merritt dodged to the side and grabbed the second one's arm. With a sharp twist and a brutal shake—
Crack!
The thug's arm popped out of place. He screamed, falling to the ground while clutching his shoulder in pain.
The third guy?
He didn't even get close.
After seeing two of his buddies go down like rag dolls, even a total idiot would realize Merritt wasn't someone to mess with.
Run!
The third guy tried to bolt for the door.
But Merritt didn't let him.
The ashtray flew straight through the air and smacked him hard on the back of the head.
"Don't... don't come any closer..."
The thug hit the ground, holding his head and groaning.
Now there was only one left—the loudmouth who hadn't lifted a finger so far. He stepped back, his face pale with fear.
Then, all of a sudden, he pulled out a switchblade from his pocket and pointed it at Merritt.
"You take one more step... I swear I'll stab you to death!"
It was all just bluffing.
This guy had seen what happened to the other three. Merritt had clearly been trained. Even with a knife, the thug knew he didn't stand a chance.
Merritt didn't slow down. He kept walking forward, a cold smirk on his face. That devilish smile made him look even more terrifying.
"Stay back... I said stay back!" the man stammered, stepping back again and again.
"Who sent you?" Merritt asked, his voice icy.
"I don't know what you're talking about... You were hitting on my wife..."
"Still pretending, huh?"
Suddenly, Merritt lunged.