A Man Lets Out a Roar—When It's Time to Act, Act

Kung Fu, Taekwondo, Karate, Muay Thai, Sanda, Free Combat... Jiang Hao was dazzled by the choices and had no idea what he should learn.

He found a Sanda and Free Combat club. When the coach asked what results he wanted, Jiang Hao gave only one answer: "I want to learn the most practical kind—the kind that can beat people."

Sanda and Free Combat were considered the most practical fighting arts.

Sanda was a modern competitive sport in which two people fought barehanded under certain rules, using martial arts techniques such as kicking, striking, throwing, and defense. It was an important part of Chinese martial arts.

Free Combat, meanwhile, was not bound by any fixed forms or moves. It advocated adapting freely according to the situation in actual combat, flexibly using punches, kicks, elbows, knees, throws, and falls in a full range of techniques, combining long and short range attacks with the goal of ultimately knocking down or defeating the opponent.

"I'll learn Free Combat," Jiang Hao said.

The learning process was painful. Jiang Hao was not the frail type, but he was by no means powerful either. He had always thought himself tall and healthy, but once training began, he realized his physical condition could only be called average.

He had never done high-intensity exercise before. After a single day, every muscle in his body ached, and he could not even be bothered to eat while lying there.

Running—he persisted every day until his lungs felt like they could not keep up, using it to train his endurance and leg strength.

Jump rope—at least a thousand jumps every day to train agile footwork. The coach said it was very important.

Flexibility training—leg presses and stretching his tendons. The first time he loosened up, Jiang Hao howled in pain and even squeezed out tears. A man in his twenties, with bones and tendons stiff as sticks—it probably felt like getting his balls yanked.

He practiced squats and push-ups, then punches and kicks. In the blink of an eye, a month had passed. Jiang Hao had only just caught up with the pace—not mastered it, merely gotten started. From then on, he could progress step by step.

Having just adapted to the rhythm of boxing practice, Jiang Hao raised the stakes again and signed up at a shooting club.

Binhai City had no live-fire shooting clubs, which disappointed him somewhat. From that day on, Jiang Hao practiced shooting during the day and boxing at night.

"Bang, bang, bang."

At the range, Jiang Hao knelt on one knee, holding a gun as he aimed and fired repeatedly. Beside him crouched a burly coach dressed in camouflage.

"Focus. Keep your attention on aligning the front sight and rear notch. Watch your breathing rhythm. Adjust your muscles."

Private training cost extra.

Jiang Hao's days were full during this period, even more exhausting than going to work. But gradually, he began to enjoy the process. It was a process of constantly tempering, improving, and surpassing himself.

His hard training paid off enormously. Two months later, he had learned the basic offensive movements of Free Combat and could already spar with other trainees. The coach said that, at his current level, handling two or three ordinary people would not be much of a problem.

Jiang Hao had a real talent for shooting. After only a month, scoring eight or nine rings was easy. But once it came to actual firearms and live ammunition, he could not guarantee anything. The gap between the two kinds of guns was simply too great.

For that reason, Jiang Hao made a special trip to Magic City, where there was a live-fire shooting club. He went wild for three days, trying every gun in the club and firing over a thousand rounds. The price was more than twenty thousand yuan.

While learning to shoot, Jiang Hao also found plenty of information on firearms to study. He was traveling to the period of the War of Resistance Against Japan, where there would definitely be all kinds of old firearms. Knowledge would not lose its value, and when he traveled to other movies in the future, it would surely come in handy.

During that time, Jiang Hao watched Red Sorghum another eight times. He had memorized every scene in the film by heart.

Learning Free Combat, learning to shoot, memorizing the details of the movie—altogether, he spent more than fifty thousand yuan and prepared for two months. He felt it was about enough.

But before traveling, he transferred another twenty thousand yuan to his family.

"Dad, I landed another big deal this month. I'm doing better and better now, and my income will definitely keep increasing. Focus on recovering. Don't be stingy with good medicine. Give my younger brother and sister more money too. They're grown now, and there are plenty of places they need to spend it."

"Dad, I can support the family."

After hanging up, Jiang Hao took a deep breath and opened the system panel.

Mission: Enter the world of the film "Red Sorghum" and collect one hundred jars of the finest Red Sorghum wine. Will the collector accept the order?

Jiang Hao pressed the accept button.

In a flash, Jiang Hao vanished.

"Stop!"

"Don't move!!!"

"I'm Sharpshooter San Pao! Whoever moves gets shot dead."

Jiang Hao instantly received the original owner's memories. This time, he had actually traveled into the role of the protagonist, Yu Zhan'ao. He also understood the situation: they were carrying the female lead's bridal sedan through the Gauze Curtain Sorghum Field when a bandit sprang out and blocked them with a gun.

The men all went pale with fright. At a complete loss, they stood there dumbly, not daring to move at all.

"Hand over your money! Hurry up, or I'll shoot!"

"Throw your money and belts into the basket in front of you."

The bandit shouted again.

The Helpers exchanged glances. Then someone began taking out money, unfastening his belt, and tossing both into a wicker basket ahead of them.

Jiang Hao looked around and followed suit.

"Back up. Squat down over there and behave yourselves. Whoever dares look back gets shot dead," the bandit threatened.

The Helpers held up their trousers and squatted to one side. Jiang Hao glanced back toward the rustling sorghum, and a curse immediately rang out: "You dare look back? Believe me, I'll shoot you dead!"

Jiang Hao immediately turned back around.

A fellow with a burlap sack over his head emerged from the Sorghum Field, holding a dark object in his hand. He walked over to the wicker basket, picked up the money inside, weighed it in his palm, and stuffed it into his pocket.

Holding his gun, he walked step by step toward the sedan. He lifted the curtain with the barrel and saw a rather pretty young woman inside, dressed in a red jacket.

Seeing how lovely the bride was, the bandit's lust rose. Pointing his gun at her, he barked, "Get out. Go—into the Sorghum Field."

Jiu'er stepped out of the sedan and slowly made her way toward the Sorghum Field. As she entered it, she looked back at the people squatting there. Jiang Hao raised his eyes and met her gaze. It was a pleading look, pleading for someone to save her.

"Go! Move!" the bandit shouted again.

Not one of the squatting men dared move.

The pleading in Jiu'er's eyes slowly turned to contempt. She despised this group of grown men, who did not dare move before a single bandit and could only watch helplessly as a woman was dragged away to be violated.

Even Jiang Hao, who knew the plot, felt deeply uncomfortable under the scorn and contempt in Jiu'er's eyes. It was different from watching a movie. This felt far more real.

"Fuck you!"

When the bandit turned around and prepared to follow Jiu'er into the Gauze Curtain, Jiang Hao roared and lunged at him. He locked an arm around the bandit's throat, choking him, and slammed him to the ground.

All it took was someone to take the lead. Once there was a leader, everyone else's fear would be reduced by ninety percent. Seeing this, the other Helpers also howled and rushed forward.

"Beat him to death! Beat him to death!"