The Twenty-Eighth Chapter

Weapons are an extension of a person's limbs. Reasoning from this perspective, Bai Lang felt that blunt weapons were probably most suitable for him at the moment, and then he could slowly cultivate saber techniques. The first step was to find a saber type that suited him. Choosing a blunt weapon was simple. "I heard the General of Whip and Mace is invincible. For convenience, it's undoubtedly the iron mace."

Moreover, the iron mace had an advantage: it could also be used to practice some moves from saber techniques. "Is smashing down that different from slashing down?" Bai Lang asked. He didn't have many expenses in his daily life. Perhaps his biggest expenditure was occasionally going out to eat at restaurants. However, as one of the leaders of the real estate agency's enforcers, he often had social obligations that allowed others to treat him, so he had accumulated some savings.

Naturally, he wouldn't go to a weapon shop for this. Those places sold famous swords and precious blades, each costing at least ten taels of silver, and that was for the cheapest short swords. Therefore, he needed to find a blacksmith shop. The Martial Way was quite prosperous in this world, and there were many wandering swordsmen carrying sabers and swords at their waists, so it was perfectly normal for blacksmith shops to also forge weapons.

Normally, Bai Lang used a divination-shaped iron ruler to block and disarm the sabers of troublemakers. However, more often than not, his fists and feet were so fast that he subdued opponents in the blink of an eye before they could even draw their swords. The troublemakers who dared to provoke the real estate agency could at best muster two or three moves, not even qualifying as amateurish.

Truly capable wandering swordsmen probably wouldn't bother with the real estate agency. After all, the agency didn't do much evil. If it were gambling dens or brothels, there would be more trouble to be found. The martial arts of the enforcers there were at least one level higher than those in the real estate agency, and naturally, their income and side earnings were also higher.

Bai Lang, carrying his silver, arrived at a blacksmith shop. This was a good thing about working for the real estate agency; at least they knew clearly which blacksmith shops had authentic craftsmanship. The blacksmith, Old Liu, in this shop could also forge hundred-refined sabers. While their appearance might not be very pleasing, they were more practical than the ten-tael short swords from weapon shops.

And for such a hundred-refined saber, Old Liu charged only one tael and five qian of silver for both labor and materials. The weapon Bai Lang wanted Old Liu to forge would definitely use more material than a hundred-refined saber, but it would likely save a lot of forging time compared to one. "Old Liu, I want these two iron maces to have four edges, all four edges sharpened, and the head shaped into a cone to pierce armor. It should also have some effect against hard qigong. Here's one tael of silver as a deposit, and I'll give you the rest upon delivery. Oh, and also forge me a six-sided sword, not too long, about one and a half arm lengths from my forearm."

After Old Liu measured Bai Lang's forearm and palm length, and Bai Lang chose a suitable weight, he put down the silver tael and arranged to pick them up in a few days. Bai Lang went straight back to practicing martial arts. At this time, he needed to open up the meridians throughout his body, and his daily practice time was barely enough, let alone having time to wander around.

Besides, he had his main job to do. When working for the real estate agency, he had to guard the premises and accompany real estate agents as a mediator. The time he could seriously practice martial arts each day was probably at most three hours. Bai Lang didn't want to stand out. The key was that gang members couldn't just quit. Washing hands in a golden basin was possible, but as an enforcer leader in the real estate agency, he didn't even have a position in the gang, so what was there to wash hands in a golden basin about? What a headache.

Washing hands in a golden basin truly required a golden basin, which was a form of etiquette. Bai Lang dismissed the idea. His entire fortune at the moment was probably only around twenty taels of silver. For an ordinary single commoner, this was a huge sum, but in the eyes of martial artists—hahahahaha.

Bai Lang, not wasting any time, even while walking, practiced his movements. This was because the Golden Bell Shield, this divine skill, leaned more towards external martial arts and moving exercises, at least in its initial stages. Bai Lang returned to his old rhythm. To others, he seemed incredibly dull. As an enforcer for the real estate agency, he didn't frequent brothels or cause trouble to conduct his own business. He spent all his days practicing martial arts in his small courtyard. If he weren't the best fighter in the real estate agency, no one would bother with him.

During the cultivation of the Golden Bell Shield, as the internal energy flowed, a faint, resonant bell sound would emanate when breaking through acupuncture points. Fortunately, the sound was very low, and the enforcers of the real estate agency only had so much skill, so Bai Lang wasn't worried about anyone seeing through his secrets. And that Jade Fish had already been set in a silver mount and worn by Bai Lang around his neck. He didn't know if this Jade Fish would take him to another world again. Even without any great fortune, gaining extra time to cultivate in other worlds would be good.

The lifespan of Xiantian Masters was already close to three sixty-year cycles. If there were even higher-level masters, their lifespans would surely be even longer. Therefore, Bai Lang felt he was still young and had plenty of capital to take risks. Five days later, Bai Lang went to Old Liu's blacksmith shop. The pair of iron maces and a short sword were placed before him.

The iron maces weren't pitch black but had a gleaming silvery sheen. The blacksmith had carefully polished the surface. That's right, wasn't polishing necessary for sharpening? The edges of the four sides weren't extremely sharp, but to Bai Lang, they were sufficient. The four-foot-long iron maces were about as thick as a wrist, but they weighed only a little over a hundred catties because they were hollow.

With Bai Lang's current first-level Golden Bell Shield cultivation, he could swing the iron mace with one hand without feeling any heaviness. Instead, it felt quite comfortable to use. The short sword was also half a palm's width and weighed about twenty catties, making it a relatively heavy heavy sword. Considering its length, it was a short sword, but in terms of weight, it was a heavy sword.

The iron maces came with leather straps to be worn around the wrist, and the short sword came with a scabbard. Bai Lang was quite satisfied, so he paid the remaining balance and carried the iron maces back to his small courtyard. Practicing mace techniques could be done concurrently with practicing the Golden Bell Shield, treating them like two extra dumbbells. For striking, they could be considered an extension of his fists.

Mace techniques were relatively simple, involving smashing, hooking, thrusting, and their various variations. This weapon was designed to injure opponents with brute force, and compared to sabers and swords, it allowed for more mistakes. If one were holding a saber or sword, controlling the correct direction of the blade during combat was not an easy task.

"The Twelve Primary Meridians, the Eight Extraordinary Meridians. As of now, I've only opened the Ren Meridian and six primary meridians and two extraordinary meridians. My progress isn't slow, but the accumulated internal energy feels quite insufficient. The breakthrough of internal energy for the Golden Bell Shield emphasizes robustness the most. It seems I need to slow down my breakthrough speed, diligently temper my strength, and replenish my essence and blood before I can proceed with the breakthrough." Bai Lang thought to himself. He was currently sitting cross-legged in his room, having just completed a circulation of his internal energy. Just then, he sensed something unusual. His chest felt like it was burning. Looking down, he saw a fleeting glimpse of something like a face on his chest before everything went hazy and he passed out.