Twilight Wolf

Many people assume that those who practice traditional Chinese martial arts would never engage in this kind of Western-style basic strength training.

In fact, such training is, to a certain extent, the most direct way to test and improve a person's physical strength. Since ancient times, the Chinese have also used tools like stone locks and stone millstones to temper their bodies, achieving the same effect as modern strength equipment.

Chinese martial arts emphasize the application of power, which is fundamentally a technique. It is like an algorithm: input one unit of energy, and through a special method of force generation, it is converted and released as two or even three units, exponentially increasing destructive power.

But what if the input base is two or three? Therefore, the ancient martial arts systems of the past thousands of years have all studied how to amplify one's limited strength to overcome the strong with the weak. Later fighting styles like jujutsu and joint locks have specifically utilized this leverage-amplification effect.

If a mutant with gifted physical talent masters traditional martial arts, then due to their superior physical foundation, they will inevitably be more destructive than human martial artists of the same level, perhaps even far exceeding them.

However, for many years, Chinese martial arts have long been integrated with obscure and difficult-to-understand culture and philosophy. Not to mention people of other races who face huge cognitive barriers, even the Chinese themselves rarely have the aptitude to peek into the secret gates of the martial way, which has, to some extent, led to the decline of martial combat arts.

And James Howlett, the grandmaster of martial arts from his past life, Bai Feng, is an unimaginable anomaly. He has haphazardly combined various impossible conditions, making the peak of the martial way once again shrouded in mystery.

After finishing twenty sets of limit-weight squats, deadlifts, and a series of strength conditioning, James staggered to put on his weighted vest. He added one hundred kilograms of lead plates and officially began today's training.

Only by squeezing out every bit of his abundant physical energy and strength can one perceive the power deep within the muscles while practicing forms. Now, James is no longer constrained by the shackles of any martial arts school. In the footwork of Baguazhang, he might use the hammer strikes of Taijiquan; the Xingyi Crushing Fist might be paired with the Earth-Shrinking Technique of the Yu Step.

In terms of technique, he has reached the pinnacle. James has a feeling that after entering the realm of transformation, his practice of martial arts might enter a brand-new state, perhaps even losing any trace of the traditional martial arts of the past.

The wall clock in the secret room indicated that nearly five hours had passed since noon. James slowly stopped, gradually shaking his muscles and bones to relax his skin. He closed his pores, letting the steam of the sweat that was constantly trying to erupt slowly subside. His breathing settled down and returned to his lower dantian. Suddenly, he exhaled a long breath that whistled like white waves, causing the flames in the brazier to sway gracefully. The two streams of air finally rose to his temples, and he withdrew his power.

From the initial warm-up strikes to the strength conditioning and the final martial arts practice, he had remained shirtless, yet not a single drop of sweat had fallen. This is one of the essences of internal martial arts: the skin and hair must be attacked.

Following the long, winding stone stairs, the cabinet in the study filled with various firearms slowly pushed open. James, having changed his clothes, walked out calmly and went downstairs to dine.

Victor had not discovered any new special traces in the forest for a long time. Since that unusual discovery in late autumn last year, he had been keeping an eye on the changes in the woods. Unfortunately, it seemed that the "monster" capable of causing such destructive power had completely left this place and never appeared again.

Relying on his beastly instincts and intuition, Victor vaguely felt that this was his "kind," and he firmly believed that they would meet one day. In the study of mutant genetics more than a century later, scholars would call this instinctual desire for group orientation the "Beast-Type Mutant Colony Effect."

Mutant humans with similar bloodlines or belonging to the same beast-type mutant genes have a natural, deep-seated phenomenon of group cohesion. This is the population instinct that beast groups rely on for hunting and survival. This instinct induces them to approach and rely on each other.

At the same time, the group patterns of animals dictate that they must have their own leader, the beast king of this hunting ground. Therefore, this desire to attract and rely on each other has a highly contradictory side: the ultimate need to duel to determine the king of the colony. And predators at the top of the food chain often hunt alone or become the "alpha wolf," rarely willing to submit to others.

From his spirit to his physiology, Victor was urgently searching for his "kind," searching for his "wolf pack." And for him, who would be known in the future as Sabretooth, his powerful mutant talent meant that only by becoming the beast king could he coexist with his fellow kin...

After dinner, Butler Vane delivered letters sent back from the Howlett family members in the United States, detailing the recent John Brown uprising and the various situations involving Republican leader Abraham Lincoln. After reading them carefully in the study and pondering for a moment, James wrote a serious reply and gave instructions for subsequent layout tasks.

The prelude to the American Civil War was about to begin.

The night was deep, and the winter night in Canada was so quiet it felt as if it had lost its sense of hearing. Thick snow clung to the vast and rugged Rocky Mountains. In the fireplace of Mr. Howlett's bedroom, the firewood added at just the right moment crackled softly, making the room warm without being dry.

James sat cross-legged on the thick Persian rug in the corner of the room, meditating. He was close to the fireplace, and the firelight danced on his handsome face. Being with his grandfather made him feel very at ease; in this world that did not belong to him, he needed some persistence and bonds to keep him from feeling so lost.

"Cough, cough... cough, cough, cough!"

Mr. Howlett coughed intermittently, struggling as he turned over. Hearing the movement, James opened his eyes, got up, and went to the bedside. He rubbed his grandfather's back and held a cup of warm water for him to sip slowly. The old man seemed unusually spirited, signaling James to help him sit up against the bed.

"Roar... cough, cough, cough... I'm fine, Jamie, I'm fine. I'll sit for a while, just in time to talk to you." He nimbly rubbed back and forth on the pillows his grandson had arranged, finding a comfortable and snug position.

"These past few days must have made you uncomfortable, right? Accompanying this old man every night, doing things that servants should be doing."

"You're joking again. These things shouldn't be left for others to do anyway." James sat beside Mr. Howlett and lit the oil lamp, watching a flush of color appear on the old man's withered face, which seemed to have regained some vitality. In his cloudy eyes, one could vaguely see the sharp and profound brilliance of the past.

Instead, he felt uneasy in his heart and responded to his grandfather's words in a flustered manner.

"Sigh... I haven't been able to speak for a while, and I've been feeling muddled, but I could feel that you were here with me every night—feeding me, bringing me water, cleaning me up... When people get old, they fear being a burden to their children, but I couldn't bear to have you leave. Knowing you were by my side... just..."

Mr. Howlett rambled on, telling his grandson the heartfelt words he hadn't been able to say for a long time. The more James listened, the deeper his heart sank, as if an invisible hand were twisting his heart inch by inch.

"Grandfather... please don't say anymore. Save some energy and get some good sleep." He pleaded, trying to interrupt Mr. Howlett, but the old man gripped his hand tightly.

"I know when my time has come. If some words are missed, there will be no chance to say them again." He took a slow breath and continued: "You are smart enough, more capable than I am. In the future, what should be done and what shouldn't be done, I don't need to waste my breath telling you. This family, whether it rises or falls, the people must be well!"

James nodded, gently stroking his grandfather's hand.

"I only worry that your nature is too aloof. I know you haven't been willing to trust anyone since you were a child; I can see it. But remember, no matter how powerful a lone wolf is, it cannot defeat a lion. Only a wolf pack can be invincible! You must have your own 'wolf pack' to deal with the storms of the future; don't carry everything on your own."

"I will remember, Grandfather."

"The roots of a family do not lie in blood ties, but in a legacy—a legacy of spirit and persistence. Everyone who identifies with you and gathers around you can become a member of this family. The same blood does not necessarily mean the same heart! The only thing I want to entrust to you is the Howlett family. Let this family, which started with me, continue. This is my only wish."

James nodded heavily: "Don't worry, the Howlett family will definitely carry on!"

"And also... although you don't have to be obsessed with bloodlines, you should still have more children! I won't see the day you have children. Don't think about so much messy stuff; have as many as you can. This world is vast and can accommodate enough life..."

Mr. Howlett rambled on for another ten minutes, slowly becoming as listless as he had been in the past. He gradually lost his strength and seemed to fall asleep. James helped him lie down, held the old man's hand, and knelt by the bed. He pressed his face against his grandfather's hand, his keen perception and powerful hearing sensing the old man's heart beating stubbornly and slowly...

Slowly, it fell silent.

This chapter is an extra update for the partners who signed up and tipped, as well as for the support of various monthly and recommendation tickets. Thank you all, sending you all my best.