Elite Center

In the winter city, the sky was not blue, even somewhat gray and overcast.

Bus No. 13 was an old model from the 1980s and had no air-conditioning system.

It was, however, specially equipped with an onboard TV that continuously played various entertainment and news programs.

"...A Headless Buddha Statue has been unearthed at the West Mountain Ruins. Experts estimate that the full body buried underground is over thirty meters long and may have been destroyed during the Yu Dynasty's 'Buddha Extermination and Religious Proscription' campaign two thousand years ago..."

"Media outlets photographed Xu Meiyan, a member of a famous girl group, returning to a hotel late at night with a mysterious man. She emerged the next day looking exhausted. Xu Meiyan denied the matter, claiming the two were merely..."

After glancing at the TV screen, Fang Cheng opened the window and let the wind flutter the loose strands of hair over his forehead.

Bare platanus branches, uneven billboards, and towering buildings kept flying past before his eyes.

"Infertility, painless abortions, Stork Gynecological Hospital reminds you..."

"Next stop: Mao City Intersection, west side of Wantong Shopping Center."

As the voice prompt sounded, Fang Cheng rose from his seat in the back row and walked to the waiting area ahead of time.

When the bus came to a wheezing stop and opened its doors, he picked up his satchel and quickly jumped down.

Today was Sunday. Without crowds of white-collar workers pouring in, even the city center seemed somewhat empty.

He walked left along the sidewalk.

A hundred meters away, he could see a shopping plaza with ads playing across its screen wall.

Beside Gate No. 3 hung the eye-catching sign for the "Global Elite Fighting Club."

Fang Cheng entered through Gate No. 3 with practiced familiarity and took the elevator to the Second Floor.

The Club venue was directly opposite the Elevator Lobby, behind a broad, transparent French window.

Quite a few coworkers were hurrying in at the moment, picking up their bags and swiping their cards at the attendance machine.

The beeping went on without pause.

After clocking in with them, Fang Cheng checked the time. It was exactly 9:29.

Neither early nor late.

The moment he entered the Locker Room, laughter and chatter filled his ears.

His coworkers were eating buns and breakfast they had bought on the way, casually talking about this and that.

Some discussed the melodramatic prime-time show from Last Night, while others chatted about ball games and calculated betting odds.

Fang Cheng had no common topics with them. After changing into his uniform, he headed alone to Training Hall No. 1.

Sunlight streamed in through the French windows, making the Light Blue Plastic Floor bright enough to dazzle the eyes.

Dozens of upright Punching Posts, hanging Sandbags, and a Boxing Ring surrounding the center were scattered throughout the hall.

The thumping of Boxing Gloves striking Sandbags mingled with Shouts of varying pitches, rising and falling one after another.

The first class began at ten.

Students had already started arriving one after another and practicing on their own.

Fang Cheng caught a whiff of disinfectant left over from Last Night's Cleaning, then walked toward Coach Hu, who had called for him.

Another busy workday was about to begin.

The quality of the instructors at this Boxing Club was unclear, but its hardware was quite impressive.

The Venue was spacious, and its training equipment was comprehensive.

Its classes included Boxing, Sanda, Jiu-Jitsu, Muay Thai, Kendo, Karate, Taekwondo, and more.

Fang Cheng's position belonged to the Logistics Department.

Put more grandly, he was responsible for the Club's daily operations and maintenance, as well as assisting the coaches in class.

In reality, he just arranged the Venue, served students, cleaned, and handled miscellaneous chores.

His normal working hours were from 9:30 in the morning to 6:30 in the Afternoon, with one hour of rest at Noon.

Saturday and Sunday were the busiest days.

Many students who had to work from Monday to Friday chose to come during this time.

The Club's scheduled classes ran from morning to night, with barely any gaps.

Still, there was one benefit.

There was no need to add night classes to accommodate students, so the staff could get off work on time and go home.

Fang Cheng was currently mainly responsible for maintaining the Boxing area.

Following the coach's lesson-preparation requirements, he first brought Soft Mats and Dumbbells from the Equipment Room.

Then he stayed to one side and silently watched the students attend class so he could provide assistance whenever needed.

For example, bringing students drinks, Towels, injury medicine, and the like, or running errands for the coach.

Today's first Boxing Class was a Basic Skills training class for new students.

"In your minds, Boxing is probably two Strongmen standing in a ring, beating each other with fists as big as Sandbags, blood spraying from their noses, going at it like total brutes..."

The coach's words, spoken with a slight out-of-province accent, made the students laugh.

"Quite the opposite."

"Boxing can be called a combat sport that places the greatest emphasis on defensive strategy. In daily training, it places extremely high demands on mobility and agility."

"As the saying goes, teach fists but not footwork; teach footwork, and the student beats the Master."

"In the previous two sessions, I taught you your stance and basic Fist Techniques. Next, we'll build on those foundations and practice coordinating your footwork..."

Though Coach Hu looked rough and rugged, his teaching style was extremely meticulous.

He progressed from simple to complex, demonstrating movements while thoroughly explaining various basic steps and how to shift one's Center of Gravity during rapid movement.

It suited the understanding needs of Rookie beginners very well.

Fang Cheng had long been thoroughly familiar with this material.

Through repeated private practice, he had firmly imprinted it into his muscle memory.

Take the skill of shifting one's Center of Gravity, for instance.

Besides allowing him to Exert Force more fully when punching, it also let him maintain balance as much as possible while dodging and deliver effective counterattacks.

But skills were only skills.

To use them perfectly in actual combat, what mattered most was having sufficiently powerful core strength.

"One, two!"

"One, two..."

Coach Hu led more than a dozen students in practicing forward and backward hopping steps while punching.

The slogans rang out rhythmically, and the atmosphere in the hall was exceptionally lively.

"Keep your Toes tucked in, relax your body, stay fluid. Feel like you're a spring..."

"Hey, you, yes, you. Don't turn your head to look at Others. Why are you twisting your butt so dramatically? It's not like you're street dancing..."

After only a few simple warm-up sets, the students' uneven Physical Quality became obvious.

Some were still laughing and joking, while Others had begun breathing heavily.

Among them, several heavier female students were visibly two beats slower than the rest.

Perhaps spending over two thousand yuan a month to learn Boxing was more about giving these white-collar elites a way to lose weight, reduce fat, and Release Stress.

Wearing a vest and clasping his hands behind his back, Fang Cheng stood at the edge of the training area in the manner of a staff member.

Yet his gaze occasionally wandered toward Fighting Classes underway in Other areas farther away.

He had been employed for nearly a month.

By Fang Cheng's own assessment, he had more or less mastered all the basic Boxing skills.

All that remained was constant practice, gaining experience, and leveling up.

If he remained in the Boxing department, he probably would not gain much more.

At that thought, an idea arose in his heart.

Perhaps I should apply to the supervisor for a transfer to an operations position...

Time passed quickly. In the blink of an eye, it was noon, and the first Morning Lesson had ended.

Fang Cheng picked up a broom and mop and quickly cleaned the training area.

After tidying everything up, he headed to the Front Desk to collect the Takeout bento boxes the Club had ordered for its employees.

During the brief Noon break.

After finishing his meal, he sat for only a moment before starting Push-Ups in the noisy Locker Room.

As expected, such unconventional behavior drew ridicule and teasing from his coworkers.

Fang Cheng paid them no mind and focused on the soreness spreading through his arms.

He had his own plan and his own goal to pursue.

Other people's comments were like a breeze brushing his face, incapable of affecting a heart determined to grow stronger.

Suddenly, a flash of light appeared before his eyes.

Fang Cheng braced himself on the floor with Both Hands and paused.

A faint smile that no one else could fathom appeared at the corner of his mouth.

On the Light Blue Panel, a line of Prompt Information emerged clearly.

Congratulations. Through unremitting effort, your Constitution has improved.