This Was a Master-An Absolute Master

Yong'an City, Jili Pier.

Nightfall.

Flames flickered, and the sounds of fighting filled the air.

"Charge! Drive them back!"

"Damn it, Jili Pier can only belong to our Fierce Tiger Gang!"

"My head! He split my head open!"

"Damn it, shut up! Are you a dog or something?"

Over by the pier, two groups were tangled together. Some wielded wooden clubs, others swung their fists. They fought with such gusto that the scene was downright lively.

At that moment, in an alley.

Two figures crouched in a shadowy corner, wooden clubs beside them and food laid out in front.

"Little Fatty, where'd you get this pig's head meat? Why does it smell like booze?"

Lin Fan picked up a piece of pig's head meat and put it in his mouth. The smell of alcohol was strong, but the meat was actually pretty good.

"Brother, I didn't buy it. I secretly picked it up after our hall master was done eating. Our hall master is such a wastrel—he pours wine over anything he can't finish." Little Fatty told him honestly. With the pay he got from working for the gang, how could he afford food like this?

"What if it's poisoned? Wouldn't we both be done for?"

"Heh heh, don't worry, Brother. If anyone's done for, it'll be me. I tried it already. It's not poisoned." Little Fatty grinned sheepishly.

Lin Fan looked at the fellow before him without comment, picked up another piece, and put it in his mouth. Then he turned his head to gaze at the fighting at the pier in the distance, his heart heavy with helplessness.

How could a person be this unlucky?

That's right.

He wasn't from this world. He'd transmigrated here. All he remembered was walking while looking at his phone, missing a step and falling into a sewer. Then he opened his eyes and found himself lying somewhere unfamiliar.

It had been exactly two months.

A stranger in a strange land, he'd had no choice but to find a way to fit in. No respectable place would take in someone with an unknown past and strange clothes like him, so he'd been forced to join a local gang and become the lowest sort of lackey.

The Little Fatty in front of him was Zhao Er, the second child in his family. His family was poor, and he belonged to the Fierce Tiger Gang.

As for Lin Fan, he belonged to the other gang currently fighting—the Loyalty Hall.

As a lackey, he naturally had to get into fights all the time. To him, fighting was dangerous; one wrong move, and someone could cripple him for life. Fortunately, he had a sharp eye. At a glance, he'd spotted Zhao Er, a fellow with unusually sturdy bones and clear, innocent eyes.

At first, he hadn't known whether Zhao Er would agree to his plan, so he'd dragged him into an alley and beaten him thoroughly. Zhao Er had howled and wailed, crying for his parents, until Lin Fan made sure he understood that once you entered this world, sooner or later you had to pay the price.

After Lin Fan's heartfelt words of guidance, Zhao Er had seen the light and become his good sparring partner in the Fierce Tiger Gang.

Whenever a fight broke out, they'd quickly find each other while everyone was lining up. They'd exchange a knowing look, then, once the fighting started, maneuver their way into a corner, where they could rest and wait for it to be over.

"Brother, meeting you really was my good fortune. Ever since then, I haven't been injured once." Zhao Er was truly grateful to Brother Lin. He'd never imagined that earning a living in a gang could be so easy.

"Of course. With your skills, you'd be laid up in bed after a few fights."

"Brother, you're so strong. Why don't you show it? If you did, the gang would surely take you seriously. You wouldn't still be a lackey."

Zhao Er couldn't understand it. He still remembered how, a few days ago, he'd been putting on their usual act with Brother Lin when the men on his side suddenly charged at Brother Lin like they'd taken drugs, completely out of their minds.

He'd thought things were about to go badly. Who could have imagined that Brother Lin would shatter their ferocity with three swings of his club, leaving them all sprawled on the ground, sleeping more soundly than anyone else?

"You wouldn't understand."

Lin Fan shook his head.

When he'd first transmigrated, he'd realized this was an ancient world. The first thought that had come to mind was: beginner-stage martial arts, mid-stage immortal cultivation, and, in the end, becoming an immortal patriarch.

So he'd immediately looked into the state of martial arts. But what he learned had been brutal: Yong'an City didn't even have a single martial arts school. As for the martial arts people talked about, they didn't exist at all. Those who seemed impressive had merely honed their skills through practice and built up their strength.

But he simply couldn't believe it.

Impossible.

If there really were no martial arts, what was with his cheat?

The cheat had appeared when he was furiously whacking Zhao Er with a wooden club. He vaguely remembered that as he was having the time of his life, a screen had appeared in his mind, accompanied by a notification.

[Basic Staff Technique learned]

[Proficiency +1]

There was no way he'd believe that this was a world without extraordinary martial arts.

Perhaps the imperial court governed the world so strictly that it forbade the appearance of so-called one-against-a-hundred dangerous figures among the common people, concealing martial arts completely.

And perhaps the people who controlled true martial arts had always been members of the imperial family.

That was his theory, and the possibility he considered most likely.

After all, there was one crucial piece of evidence: what his status panel displayed.

[Name: Lin Fan]

[Realm: None]

[Basic Staff Technique (Major Accomplishment 12/1000)]

If there were no martial arts or supernatural powers, why would his cheat show his realm? Having a realm meant cultivation was possible, didn't it?

He believed that without a doubt.

"Brother, Brother..." Zhao Er nudged Lin Fan's arm.

Lin Fan came back to himself. "What is it?"

"The fighting at the pier is almost quiet now. It's about to end. We should head out too." Zhao Er reminded him.

This was their usual routine, and so far, no one had ever noticed anything wrong. After all, on a dark and windy night, with people milling about everywhere, who would pay attention to them?

By now, the pig's head meat on a lotus leaf on the ground was gone too. Lin Fan wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth, picked up his wooden club, and stood.

"By the way, how's your mother's illness? Do you have enough money? If you don't, tell me. I've got some to spare." Lin Fan asked.

They rarely met in private, for fear of being seen by someone with suspicions. Why would members of rival gangs be so close? There had to be something going on.

"Brother, I have enough. You said you were saving up to get out of this life. Just keep your money for yourself."

He didn't understand what getting out of this life meant.

But he was sure it mattered a great deal to Brother Lin.

So he wouldn't get in the way of Brother Lin getting out.

"All right."

Lin Fan nodded. Zhao Er was the first friend he'd grown close to in this world, and the other fellow had joined the gang only because life had left him no choice. There wasn't a thing wrong with him as a person.

Then Zhao Er took out the chicken blood he'd prepared, and they smeared a little on each other to prove they'd fought fiercely too. They'd both drawn blood, after all. It wouldn't do to make it look easy.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"Go."

As they neared the alley's exit, neither said another word. They raised their clubs and started fighting, trading curses as they struggled back and forth from left to right, eventually blending into the edge of the crowd without attracting any attention.

Thud!

Lin Fan kicked Zhao Er to the ground. Zhao Er stuck his butt in the air as he tried to get up, only for Lin Fan to kick him in the backside again. Using the force, Zhao Er scrambled away from the battlefield on his hands and feet, half crawling and half rolling. Once he was up, he rubbed his butt, pointed at Lin Fan, and roared with a ferocious expression.

"I'll fight you to the death! Our Fierce Tiger Gang will never lose!"

He was about to charge forward, but it was as if an invisible pair of hands had grabbed him and was holding him fast.

"Let go of me! I'm not afraid of him!"

That expression, that tone—his acting was top-notch, too.

Lin Fan surveyed the scene. Both sides had taken injuries. By rights, at this point, the two hall masters should come out and trade insults.

Sure enough, the two hall masters appeared.

The Fierce Tiger Gang's hall master, Yuan Jiang, was lean and had a long face. His narrowed eyes gave him a sinister air.

The hall master on Lin Fan's side, Wang Changhai, had reached middle age, but he was sturdy and looked like he could fight. In truth, the opposite was true. Their hall master had long since been hollowed out by wine and women, and he'd be panting after walking a few steps.

But people said that when Wang Changhai was young, he'd been bold and fearless, able to take on four opponents at once. With a single mountain-cleaving saber, he'd hacked a bloody path for himself and become the hall master of the Loyalty Hall.

"Yuan the Monkey, Jili Pier isn't a place your Fierce Tiger Gang can lay claim to. If you want to fight, I'll see it through to the end. Let's see how many men you've got."

Wang Changhai was quite pleased with how things had gone. Overall, the Loyalty Hall had the upper hand.

Yuan Jiang looked calm.

That made Wang Changhai's heart skip a beat. Something felt off. Yuan Jiang was too composed.

There was a problem.

Sure enough, Yuan Jiang clapped his hands and looked toward a shadowy spot not far away. Wang Changhai followed his gaze. At first, it looked as if there was nothing but a faint flame burning there. But when someone lit torches nearby,

he realized that a man was sitting there, leisurely eating hotpot-style mutton.

"Brother Chen, it's your turn to act." Yuan Jiang said.

Lin Fan noticed the man too. Only one thought came to mind: this guy was such a show-off. It was pitch-black, yet he was sitting there eating hotpot, completely ignoring the fight between two gangs.

The sight gave Lin Fan a bad feeling.

Could he be... a master?

After all, only a master could be this calm.

In Lin Fan's eyes, the middle-aged man they called Brother Chen unhurriedly put the last bite of meat into his mouth, picked up his cup and drained it, then took out a cloth to wipe his mouth. He slowly rose and walked in their direction.

The man was very muscular, even half a head broader than Wang Changhai. Especially when he rolled up his sleeves, revealing two enormous arms, they looked packed with explosive strength.

Lin Fan considered quietly retreating and putting everyone else in front of him.

But Wang Changhai was standing right beside him. There was no way he could retreat.

"Who is he?" Wang Changhai asked gravely.

Yuan Jiang spoke with the confidence of a man who already had victory in hand. "Wang Changhai, this is the famous Iron Fist King Chen Niu. I specially invited him here as a master. Today, Jili Pier is definitely going to belong to the Fierce Tiger Gang. As for you, Wang Changhai, I'm going to beat you into a dead dog."

Iron Fist King?

Chen Niu?

Wang Changhai's mouth hung slightly open, as if he'd been intimidated. In truth, the nickname had reminded him of his own title when he was young.

The Nine-Times-a-Night Stud.

"Never heard of him. Some stray dog or cat from who knows where. Beat him to death!"

Wang Changhai turned to the side and swept his arm. The few lackeys with clubs on his right wouldn't dare hesitate after their hall master's order. They roared and charged at Chen Niu. When they reached him, they raised their wooden clubs and swung with all their might at his head.

Faced with the clubs bearing down on him, Chen Niu let out a low growl and raised both arms to block.

Crack!

Crack!

Wood splintered everywhere. The moment the clubs struck his arms, they broke in two.

While the lackeys stared in shock, Chen Niu threw punches and kicks, knocking the several men before him to the ground.

Their cries of pain rang without pause.

Wang Changhai looked horrified, his face full of disbelief.

"Hahaha... Good!"

Yuan Jiang was overjoyed. He'd paid twenty taels of silver to invite this master, and sure enough, he was incredible. No, after this was over, Yuan Jiang had to recruit him. Even if he had to pay a little more, it would be worth it.

Lin Fan looked just as grave. The man's ability to break clubs with his arms was enough to prove he was a master. He hadn't even shown the slightest sign of pain.

Could he really be a master of the Martial Way?

At the thought, Lin Fan's hand around his club was slick with sweat, and his heart pounded fiercely with nerves.

He really wanted to ask the man, "Big brother, where did you learn martial arts? Could you point me in the right direction?"

But this clearly wasn't the time.

Chen Niu looked proudly at Wang Changhai, blew the wood chips off his arm, then raised his hand and made a taunting gesture at him.

Wang Changhai's chest heaved with anger, as if it were on fire. He shouted at Lin Fan and the others standing to his left:

"Get him!"

The few lackeys were scared, but with their hall master in such a rage, they didn't dare refuse.

Lin Fan gripped his wooden club tightly and charged at Chen Niu with the others.

Back when he'd learned Basic Staff Technique, it had felt as if he'd spent years painstakingly practicing how to use a staff.

From the initial stage to the minor stage, and then to his current major accomplishment.

Whenever he made progress, he felt his strength increase, and the techniques for channeling force became familiar to him too.

As the people beside him roared and swung their clubs,

Lin Fan let out a roar as well, lowered his center of gravity, and drove force from his hips and waist into the end of his club. The muscles in his arms tightened like stone. He held nothing back and put everything into the strike.

The wind from the club howled sharply.

Chen Niu remained completely unfazed by what was happening before him.

He wanted to tell everyone one thing.

Didn't they know his iron arms had broken countless clubs? He'd been beaten so often that he couldn't feel pain anymore!

Thud!

Several wooden clubs slammed into his arms at once.

Crack!

The clubs broke.

"Ah..."

A scream rang out.

Chen Niu's arm bent at a strange angle, and the wooden club in Lin Fan's hand shot forward like lightning, smashing into the man's neck.

Thud!

A muffled sound rang out.

Chen Niu dropped to his knees, pitched forward, and lay motionless on the ground.

[Basic Staff Technique proficiency +1]

Lin Fan was startled. That was it?

When he'd struck, the man's arms had been very hard, but Lin Fan had felt that his own strength could overpower them. To be honest, he'd even prepared himself to be kicked to the ground.

But the situation now had taken him by surprise.

It seemed this guy wasn't a master after all.

At first, Zhao Er, in the crowd, had been worried about Brother Lin. But after seeing what happened, he'd almost shouted out, "Good!" Then he suddenly remembered which side he was on and hurriedly covered his mouth. He'd almost blown their cover.

Yuan Jiang blinked, mouth hanging open as he stood there in a daze.

Wait, what was going on?

He'd already hit the ground.

Hadn't he confidently guaranteed that he was a master?

Seeing this, Wang Changhai, burning with humiliation and rage, burst into gleeful laughter.

"Hahaha! A master? You call that a master? Yuan the Monkey, did a donkey kick your brains in?"

"Good! Nicely done. The hall master will reward you handsomely."

Yuan Jiang's face turned livid. With a wave of his hand, he led his men away in a sorry state. As for Chen Niu, lying there, he didn't even spare him a glance.

Lin Fan glanced at Chen Niu, then followed everyone back.

Wang Changhai clapped them on the shoulders and praised them before waving his hand and taking his underlings off to celebrate. That was what it was like being in a gang.

He didn't go along to celebrate.

Instead, he felt a little disappointed. He'd thought that the appearance of a Martial Way master might help him uncover some trace of the Martial Way, but so far, there wasn't even the slightest clue.

Inside the room.

He lit the oil lamp, went to the table, and looked at the book laid out on it.

Direct Interpretation of Laws

That's right. He was going to study now.

There was no future in being in a gang. To put it bluntly, gangsters were just the dregs of society. If he wanted to find clues about the Martial Way, he needed status and influence.

So now, he was going to take the civil service exam.

The higher his status, the closer he could get to the core.

He had to study hard.

He had to prepare for the Security Bureau entrance exam in a month.

He opened the book. Dense lines of text filled his vision, making his head pound and his eyes see stars.

All he could say was, this was miserable.

But there was no helping it. He could only grit his teeth and plow through.