Training and Protective Treasures

Training room. Time seemed to stretch and warp.

Two identical figures crisscrossed and collided at high speed within the confined arena.

The dull booms of fists striking flesh rang out like a barrage of war drums, while the shrieks of sweeping kicks through the air sounded like wailing ghosts.

Every attack from both sides targeted the other's most vulnerable joints and energy circulation nodes, while every defense used the smallest possible movements and the most precise application of force to block or deflect the blows.

Benjamin's right arm bent backward at an unnatural angle, knocking aside a hand chop aimed straight at his temple, while his left knee simultaneously drove into the other's lower abdomen like a venomous dragon.

The afterimage seemed to have anticipated it. Its waist bent backward like a willow branch, evading the knee strike as one foot hooked upward at Benjamin's jaw like a scorpion's barbed tail.

Bang!

Benjamin leaned back and narrowly avoided it. The wind from the kick grazed his skin, bringing searing pain.

Without pausing, he used the momentum of his backward lean to brace one hand on the ground, his legs whipping out in a chain of kicks like windmill blades to seal off the afterimage's lower body.

The afterimage sprang into the air, both palms like blades as they cleaved downward from above, their force as sharp as tangible knife edges.

Both possessed exactly the same memories, techniques, and combat instincts. Their control over every inch of muscle and every trace of energy was also completely identical.

Predicting the other's predictions, breaking the other's counters—every move was like playing a deadly game against his reflection in a mirror, perilous to the extreme.

Sweat and bloody spittle flew amid the violent movements. Their training uniforms had long since been reduced to tatters,