Pressure

After stepping down from the ring, Gao Wu saw coach Huang Hai's grim face.

Huang Hai came straight over and reprimanded him without any politeness. "Gao Wu, you're not that young anymore. You should know better. Some things can't be said carelessly onstage."

Gao Wu said calmly, "Houzi and Wang Tiesong's families aren't well-off. Even with insurance reimbursing their medical expenses, the follow-up rehabilitation training will cost a lot of money. That's not something their families can afford.

"I can't help much either. I could only shout a few words and try to win them some support."

"You can't do that again." Huang Hai was deeply calculating. With so many eyes watching, he had to maintain a coach's basic dignity.

Besides, this matter had little to do with him. The more the school leadership disliked Gao Wu, the easier things would be for him.

Huang Long had won three matches in this competition, but the MVP award still went to Gao Wu, along with a thousand-yuan prize.

Holding the glass trophy, Gao Wu beamed brightly. A large crowd of students gathered around to take pictures with him, and many girls even asked him for his autograph.

Huang Long and the other Martial Arts Team members watched from the side with envy. They had never received such a swarm of admirers after winning before.

What young person didn't enjoy being in the limelight?

Gao Wu, basking in boundless glory, was also extremely excited. Mainly because his earlier speech had earned him nearly two thousand Merit, an enormous surprise!

Sure enough, when doing good deeds, one had to do them openly and aboveboard, so everyone knew about them.

Only those doing bad things would skulk around in secret, terrified that others might find out!

After returning to the dormitory and changing clothes, Gao Wu tore up all the little notes in his pockets and threw them away. The female students had been enthusiastic, and they were quite pretty too.

Unfortunately, he had no time for that sort of thing. He could only let down his classmates' enthusiasm...

At noon the next day, Gao Wu went to the hospital to visit Wang Tiesong and Houzi. He found that quite a few students had already gathered around their beds. There were plenty of gifts nearby—fruit, milk, Binggan, and more.

Middle school students were relatively innocent and quick to act. Stirred by Gao Wu's speech, they had all come to visit the two injured students the very next day.

Gao Wu stood at the back and watched for a while before quietly leaving.

Houzi and Wang Tiesong had finally become the center of attention, so he would not go over and steal their thunder.

Following what he had publicly said before, he transferred eleven thousand yuan to the two of them through Feixin. It was not much money, but it was not a small amount to him.

Since the matter had been publicized, the school would have to show some support, if only for appearances' sake. It should ease some of the burden on the two injured students.

By Thursday, Gao Wu had finished injecting all ten doses of Blood Dragon Agent. Both his strength and spirit had reached eight points, an increase of about one point compared to ten days ago.

That meant both his spirit and strength had risen by around fifty percent.

Even his agility had risen to seven points.

Meanwhile, Song Mingyue's paired cultivation with him had brought him tremendous progress in the Nine Dragon Forms.

Being able to eat one meal of expensive Strange Beast meat every day ensured that he had sufficient nutrition.

With all these factors combined, he had been able to advance by leaps and bounds in martial arts. Compared to ten days ago, his combat strength had at least doubled.

Even for an eighteen-year-old, such a rate of improvement was astonishing.

Taking advantage of the empty noon hours, Gao Wu went to the Martial Arts Arena to test his punching force.

One punch slammed into the target, and a four-digit number popped up on the testing machine: 1036.

Within one minute, Gao Wu threw twenty consecutive punches. Every single one exceeded one thousand kilograms of force.

Watching the numbers flash constantly across the punching target, he could not help feeling excited.

The Advanced Martial Artist assessment was simple: within one minute, throw twenty punches, with every punch steadily exceeding one thousand kilograms of force.

He had thrown twenty punches in under forty seconds and still had plenty left in the tank. He was unquestionably an Advanced Martial Artist already.

As long as he went to the Tianwu Association for the assessment, he could obtain an Advanced Martial Artist Certificate.

According to statistics, in this era where everyone practiced martial arts, only three percent of people could become Martial Artists. Of those Martial Artists, only one in ten could become Advanced Martial Artists.

Ninety-nine percent of them only became Advanced Martial Artists after the age of twenty, by which point they had practically lost all potential.

Generally speaking, only Advanced Martial Artists under twenty had a chance to become Warriors.

Dongjiang's Nine Counties and One City had a total population of more than ten million, with a full million middle school students. Yet there were fewer than twenty Advanced Martial Artists among them.

So, being able to obtain an Advanced Martial Artist Certificate at eighteen still carried considerable weight.

Gao Wu had always treated becoming an Advanced Martial Artist as his goal for age eighteen. Now that he had achieved it so effortlessly, excitement mingled with a faint sense of loss.

Achievements gained without any hardships or obstacles always seemed to lack substance, to lack something worth savoring.

Still, merely being an Advanced Martial Artist was far from enough.

Anjing University Martial Arts Academy only admitted three hundred students each year.

The entire Beizhou had seventy-seven cities and a population of over three hundred million. There were four to five million college entrance examination students of the appropriate age alone, meaning there should be four to five hundred Advanced Martial Artists by proportion.

Anjing University also gave admissions preference to Anjing locals. Add in all kinds of connections and favored applicants, then subtract the admission slots reserved for other states, and perhaps only around one hundred ordinary admissions slots remained for Beizhou.

With no background or connections, competition for those hundred slots was exceptionally fierce—even brutal.

Shang Qingjun had exceptional martial arts talent and was the child of a martyr, yet she had still failed to enter the Martial Dao Academy. She had only entered Anjing University's Biology Department.

Of course, the Biology Department was Anjing University's top discipline.

In terms of importance, it actually far surpassed the Martial Arts Academy. The Martial Arts Academy could only produce Warriors, while the Biology Department could produce scientists.

One significant scientific discovery was enough to change the world.

No matter how strong a Martial Artist was, that was still an individual matter. True construction depended on all kinds of talent. Shang Qingjun did not like fighting and killing either; she had only wanted to enter the Martial Arts Academy because its subsidies were higher and more generous, which would have been better for her family.

When it came to him, the Shang Family's connections were difficult to use.

After all, he was merely an orphan adopted by the old man, without name or standing. Even if the old man personally stepped forward, others might not be willing to do him this favor.

It would have been one thing if he lacked other advantages, but his personal Martial Dao Points were especially low.

Martial Dao Points also carried great weight in universities' admissions of martial arts students. This was the biggest problem he urgently needed to solve before July.

"Gao Wu," Coach Huang Hai's cold, stiff voice came from behind him, interrupting Gao Wu's thoughts.

Gao Wu turned around, smiled, and nodded in greeting. "Coach."

Huang Hai glanced at the punching-force tester. Nothing was displayed on its electronic screen. But he had seen everything clearly in the monitoring room just now: Gao Wu's twenty consecutive punches had each been smooth and brimming with force.

Though he could not see the numbers on the display, his experience was enough to tell him that Gao Wu had reached the level of an Advanced Martial Artist.

The machine had records too, and he could check them if he wished. There was simply no need.

It had only been ten days since he calculated out Gao Wu's Blood Dragon Agent dosage. Gao Wu's immense progress also surprised him.

An eighteen-year-old Advanced Martial Artist could be called a youth of limitless promise.

At this point, Gao Wu had already embarked on another path and no longer posed any competition to his nephew Huang Long. But how could he let such excellent raw material slip away?

"It looks like the Blood Dragon Agent worked very well," Huang Hai said. "You'll become an Advanced Martial Artist soon."

"It's all thanks to your guidance and help, Coach, that I am where I am today," Gao Wu flattered him casually.

No matter what Huang Hai's character was like, he was still a Warrior. Gao Wu needed to maintain their relationship as best he could.

"Your goal should be Anjing University, right?" Huang Hai asked.

Gao Wu nodded firmly. "I want to give it a try."

"Anjing University Martial Arts Academy is Beizhou's sacred land of martial arts, and its competition is exceptionally fierce. Without family background or connections, you need absolute strength if you want to enter Anjing University."

Huang Hai said, "The most important part of Anjing University's interview is the practical combat assessment. At the end of the day, we practice martial arts to gain powerful strength, so that we can slay Strange Beasts beyond our borders and sweep away demons within.

"You have considerable talent, but compared with true geniuses, you still fall far short. Geniuses, however, are too precious. Their teachers and elders are reluctant to let them take risks, so they lack practical combat experience. That is your opportunity."

"What do you mean, Coach?" Gao Wu roughly understood. Huang Hai was trying to coax him into participating in more real combat.

There was no need to say it—he was up to no good. Gao Wu was also a little curious what Huang Hai was trying to do.

"Jinsheng Hotel holds Martial Artist-level ring matches every day. The fighting is intense and the prize money is generous. By competing on the ring, you can gain valuable practical combat experience and earn prize money at the same time—killing two birds with one stone."

Huang Hai looked at Gao Wu with calm eyes and asked, "What do you think?"

As a Warrior, Huang Hai did not need to put on any deliberate airs. His cold, grim gaze alone, fixed directly on Gao Wu, made Gao Wu feel immense pressure.

Gao Wu felt as though an invisible boulder had suddenly crashed down on him. His chest sank, his breathing became labored, and unease and fear instinctively made him want to submit to Huang Hai...