Douluo Dalu: Starting With Tom Cat

The battle started quickly and ended even faster.

Before the fight, Zhu Zhuqing intended to hold back, worried she might hurt Tom. However, as the fight unfolded, she realized how gravely mistaken she was.

Tom only needed three strikes.

The First Strike: Tom's wooden sword shot straight toward Zhu Zhuqing's throat. She tried to grab it with her hand, but a peculiar force repelled her, making it impossible to block.

The Second Strike: Zhu Zhuqing retreated swiftly to dodge, but Tom's wooden sword followed her with uncanny precision, landing squarely on her leg. A strange energy coursed through her, leaving her leg numb and unable to support her.

The Third Strike: Before Zhu Zhuqing could react, the wooden sword was already pointed directly at her heart.

Watching this, Shen An muttered, "Is Tom really this strong? Three strikes for the bear, three strikes for Zhu Zhuqing... Is there anyone besides Jerry who can rival my General Tom?"

He couldn't help but think of the legendary Sword Douluo, Chen Xin, from Douluo Continent. Would Tom's swordsmanship rival that famed master?

Zhu Zhuqing lay on the ground, unable to get up. Shen An rushed over to help her, only to find her eyes dull and lifeless. Her usually composed and elegant face was now void of spirit.

"How embarrassing. Defeated by a cat in three moves. I don't want to talk about it. I'd rather disappear."

Shen An glanced at Tom with a meaningful look, silently mouthing: "You've traumatized her!"

Tom gave an awkward grin, spreading its paws helplessly. It hadn't expected Zhu Zhuqing to take the loss so hard. If it had known, it would have held back a little.

The only reason Tom fought so decisively was sheer laziness—quick victory meant conserving energy.

"Uh, Zhuqing, don't be too upset. Tom isn't an ordinary cat—"

"Don't console me. I lost fair and square. From now on, you train with Tom. Don't look for me!" Zhu Zhuqing said bitterly, limping back to her room.

Today's humiliation, I, Zhu Zhuqing, will never forget. From this moment on, I'll train like mad. I refuse to be weaker than anyone—no, not even weaker than a cat!

Tom tugged at Shen An's pants, gesturing toward Zhu Zhuqing's retreating figure as if to ask: Aren't you going to chase after her?

Shen An scratched his head. "She told me not to bother her and just train with you. Why should I chase her?"

Tom froze, then gave Shen An a look that could only be interpreted as: This guy is hopeless. At this rate, I'll never have a mistress.

"Well, forget it," Shen An said with a shrug. "Women are unpredictable. Let's start our training, Tom."

Tom nodded, then grabbed paper and pen. After a flurry of writing and drawing, it handed Shen An a booklet.

Shen An flipped through it, finding vivid sketches of a cat demonstrating sword techniques. "Tom, you're talented in art too? But, uh, can you at least draw a human instead of a cat? The audience is different, you know."

Tom awkwardly grinned, took the booklet back, and hastily replaced the cat illustrations with stick figures.

Shen An stared, unimpressed. "Seriously? Is training with you really a good idea?"

Tom, sensing Shen An's doubts, waved its paw confidently. It then wrote on the booklet's cover in bold strokes: Thirteen Foundational Sword Techniques.

Shen An's expression grew skeptical. "Tom, you only know the basics, don't you?"

Tom nodded enthusiastically. Why bother learning more when the basics were more than enough?

Shen An: "..."

He could almost picture Tom's early training days:

Instructor: "Tom, now that you've mastered the basics, you'll face the world's greatest swordsman next."

Tom: Looks up, sees it's not Jerry, and one-shots the opponent.

"Forget it. Basics it is. Something is better than nothing," Shen An sighed. At least he could build a solid foundation.

As Shen An practiced the moves from the booklet, Tom lounged on a rattan chair nearby, lazily correcting his posture with the occasional flick of its wooden sword.

Surprisingly, Shen An found himself deeply immersed in the training. Unlike the combat techniques Zhu Zhuqing had taught him, swordsmanship resonated with him. Perhaps it was due to his martial soul or some unseen destiny.

Though the techniques were basic, they felt endlessly profound, drawing him in completely.

The next morning at breakfast, Zhu Zhuqing appeared at the table as usual, eating quietly before returning to her training room without a word.

"Tom, are all girls this competitive? It's just a loss to you, but she's taking it so hard," Shen An muttered.

Tom twitched its ears in agreement.

Meanwhile, the tea shop continued to thrive. Customers lined up early, desperate for a chance to glimpse the legendary Tom. Shen An capitalized on this craze by putting up a sign that read: Daily Limit: 300 Cups Only.

Far from discouraging customers, the limit only made them more frantic. Some even begged to skip the seating area, willing to stand just to have a cup of Shen An's unique milk tea.

The shop's fame skyrocketed. Tales of the magical cat and its one-of-a-kind tea spread across the continent, turning the little tea house into a sensation.

Tom, delighted by the growing pile of coins in the drawer, grinned from ear to ear.

Shen An, thrilled by his rising fame points, beamed with satisfaction.

"Ah, mission accomplished: Zhu Zhuqing is officially sulking in self-imposed isolation," Shen An chuckled.

With over 10,000 fame points in the system, Shen An eagerly drew from the prize pool.

Ding! Congratulations! You have received:

Tom's Drunken Whiskey, Tom's Stylish Cigar, Jerry's Speed Potion, Sprite

"Not bad today!" Shen An thought, pleased with the bonus items on top of the guaranteed small soul power experience pack. He glanced at the whiskey and cigar before side-eyeing Tom.

"Tom, you look so prim and proper, but secretly you're into drinking and smoking, huh?"