Red Scale I

He walked straight through the single-leaf iron gate, its surface mottled with rust.

As he passed the security booth, his gaze swept across it.

Inside, an industrial floor fan whirred away, yet the stifling heat did not seem to lessen in the slightest.

An elderly man in a security uniform sat there, yawning.

Hu Qi entered the residential area.

Hanlin Garden residential area was an old complex with more than twenty years of history. Since it was also public resettlement housing, it looked somewhat run-down.

The roads were pitted and uneven, the greenery along the roadside sparse, and all kinds of vehicles had been parked haphazardly everywhere.

Several crooked old trees stood with sparse branches and leaves, swaying feebly in the breeze.

Hu Qi looked around.

Following his memories, he headed down the road to the right.

After reaching the second row of residential buildings, he turned in and continued until he stopped before the second-to-last building.

A crooked sign hung above the entrance: "Building 8, Unit 1."

The unit door was dark green and covered in rust, standing half-open at the moment.

Electric scooters of all colors crowded the entrance, while scraps of paper and cigarette butts littered the ground.

The entire building had thirty-three floors, with five households on each floor, but only two elevators.

At that moment, one elevator happened to be waiting on the first floor.

Hu Qi reached out and pressed the button. The elevator doors slowly opened.

He stepped inside. The fan in the upper-right corner of the elevator buzzed as it spun, blowing out a faintly cool breeze.

Advertisements covered all four walls of the elevator, faded and worn. It jolted its way upward, clearly having seen many years of use and developed more than a few problems.

And who knew which bastard had smoked in there before him—the pungent smell of cigarettes filled the cramped space.

Hu Qi could not help frowning slightly and instinctively held his breath.

Fortunately, no one entered the elevator along the way. Soon, he reached the floor where he lived.

The elevator doors opened. He stepped out and came before the apartment door directly opposite the elevator, marked "1503."

He took out his key.

Well, the people who had beaten up the original owner had only rummaged through his valuables. They had not touched the key.

Otherwise, Hu Qi would have had to spend money hiring someone to pick the lock.

Click!

The key slid into the lock. With a light twist, the door opened.

At once, a faint strange odor wafted out from inside.

It was a small rental apartment, roughly forty square meters, consisting of a bathroom and a master bedroom.

It was more than spacious enough for one person.

A simple single bed stood in the room, its bedding slightly messy.

Beside the bed was a small white wooden table piled with miscellaneous items: an unfinished book, half a bottle of water, and a few odds and ends.

A simple wardrobe stood in the corner.

Its white door was half-open, revealing several hanging clothes in glimpses.

A black chair sat by the window. Sunlight streamed through the gap in the grimy curtains, casting a thin, straight shaft of light across it.

Several pairs of shoes had been tossed carelessly onto the floor, including sneakers and slippers.

A simple shoe rack had also been placed near the entrance.

Without changing his shoes, Hu Qi walked straight in.

He set the watermelon in his hand on the nearby table, then went over, pulled open the curtains, and opened the window.

Sunlight flooded in at once, and the previously dim room immediately brightened.

Then Hu Qi began tidying up the room.

For now, he did not have the money to improve his living environment. All he could do was try to make it cleaner.

After all, leaving aside everything else, if the environment was too filthy, someone whose body was not sturdy enough could easily fall ill after living there for a long time.

He had once seen a news report about a gorgeous woman who looked polished and glamorous on the outside.

Yet her rental apartment had been piled full of garbage, with rats and cockroaches scurrying everywhere. She even relieved herself wherever she pleased. The landlord who came to inspect the place had been gagged into vomiting by the stench.

As for that sort of person, Hu Qi could only say she was truly a rare talent. In any case, he could not do it. He was a bit of a clean freak in that regard.

Half an hour later, the apartment looked brand-new.

After eating two slices of watermelon, Hu Qi entered the bathroom.

The bathroom consisted of a kitchen and a toilet. On the counter outside sat a gas stove and an iron pot. Judging from the dust that had accumulated on them while he cleaned earlier, the original owner clearly did not use them much.

Further inside was a sink, above which hung a mirror with one corner missing.

Hu Qi stepped forward. Reflected in the mirror was a young man with an utterly ordinary face and build.

The young man's skin was somewhat pale, and his hair was a little long, covering his forehead and the corners of his eyes, making him seem somewhat gloomy.

To be honest, this was the first time in the past few days that he had examined the appearance of this body so closely.

It looked very ordinary, worlds apart from his own formerly handsome face.

But it did not matter. Whether he looked good or not meant little to him.

After all, he could not see himself when he was not looking in a mirror. So even if he was uglier, at most it would disgust other people.

Hiss!

Hu Qi turned on the showerhead, and water streamed down from above.

The water pounded against his head and shoulders. As his hair became soaked, it slowly drooped down and covered his eyes.

He wiped his face and brushed his hair back.

Letting out a soft breath, he closed his eyes and could not help beginning to plan for the future.

At first, he had only wanted to make some money and improve his life.

But now there was another goal: using the modifier to strengthen himself.

The Nourishing Origin Breathing Method, at the perfected level, had brought him considerable changes.

For instance.

Over the past two days, his sleep quality had become excellent. He did not dream at all, and after only six hours of sleep, he would be brimming with energy.

His physical senses had also become sharper, among other things.

Though these subtle, underlying improvements were slight, their benefits were obvious.

Perhaps it was an imprint buried deep within human genes, or perhaps it was simply Hu Qi's nature, but this feeling was becoming addictive.

Yet he also understood.

The improvements brought by the Nourishing Origin Breathing Method required steady accumulation over time. Even if he practiced it for a lifetime, the gains might still be limited to the level of an ordinary person.

That left Hu Qi dissatisfied.

So he decided to alter his plans. While finding ways to make money, he would search for more skills that could strengthen him.

As for skills that could enhance his strength, he had discovered that this world had a great many combat competitions.

Some good high schools and universities even offered specialized courses that taught Combat Technique.

Of course, the original owner had only attended an ordinary vocational high school.

He had never had such an opportunity, and now that he was already a working man, trying to get into a school to mooch free lessons was obviously unrealistic.

Therefore, the simplest path to learning combat methods that could increase his strength was to find a martial arts school that taught fighting and enroll in its classes.

He already had a target in mind for that.

The only concern was that he seemed to be a little short on money.

He had checked just now. His phone account balance had only 836.25 yuan left.

Red Scale Fighting Club

According to the navigation app, it was roughly two or three kilometers from his rental apartment.

Hu Qi had chosen this club partly because it was close, but more importantly, its prices were quite affordable.

Its reviews were also good, making it suitable for a poor bastard like him.

After showering and taking a brief rest, Hu Qi came downstairs.

He directly pressed the electronic key on his keychain.

Beep beep!

At once, a black electric scooter parked in the corner responded.

A rectangular delivery box was mounted on the back of the scooter. It was the original owner's vehicle; the original owner had worked as a food delivery rider.

Under normal circumstances, the original owner had stopped attending school at seventeen.

Even if he had earned only 150 yuan a day, after four years—and with no bad habits, plus the regular support from his aunt's family—he should not have ended up with so little savings.

From his memories, Hu Qi knew that the original owner had worked overtime day and night for the past several years and saved more than a hundred thousand yuan.

But he had spent all that money on gifts while pursuing his goddess, which had landed Hu Qi in his current awkward situation.

"Simps really deserved to die miserable deaths."