Hit Right Here

Chapter 29: Hit Right Here

Why buy a place only to rent it out instead of living in it?

Xiang Kun felt his very first sentence had already answered that, but since Yang Zhen'er asked again, he explained, "Living there would double my daily commute, which means losing at least half an hour of sleep every single day."

"Then why did you buy it in the outer suburbs in the first place?" Yang Zhen'er asked again.

"Because that was all I could afford," Xiang Kun replied truthfully.

"You could live in the outer suburbs and drive to work every day. You've already bought the house; buying a car wouldn't be much more expensive, right?"

"Driving myself doesn't necessarily save time compared to public transport, and the cost of maintaining a car is quite high. It's completely unnecessary."

"Then doesn't buying the house lose its meaning?"

"Not at all. The price per square meter has already gone up by at least eight thousand since I bought it. Plus, the rent I get is higher than what I pay for my current place, which helps subsidize my mortgage."

"Have you found a new job yet?"

"Not yet."

"Do you want Nana and me to introduce you to some?"

"Thanks, but no need. I don't plan on looking for work for a while; I want to take a break."

"Did you practice martial arts in the past? You aren't actually a martial monk, are you?"

"I haven't... I shaved my head because I started going bald, not because I became a monk."

"Did you often get into fights before? The day before yesterday, I saw you throw that wanted criminal aside in an instant, and he was holding a knife... And in that video, too, you kicked someone flying with a single blow..."

Tang Baona interrupted, "Alright, stop talking. Focus on driving; you almost ran a red light just now!"

After getting into the car, Xiang Kun answered Yang Zhen'er's rapid-fire questions honestly, provided they didn't touch upon the secret of his physical mutation.

Whether it was his unemployed status, the financial straits he faced when buying the house, or his receding hairline, he offered no concealment or embellishment, answering everything quite directly.

If this were in the past, and he were in front of a blind date he was interested in, he certainly would have weighed his words carefully. He wouldn't have answered so casually, wanting to leave a good impression and unwilling to let the other person see his down-and-out side.

But for the current him, he didn't care whether Tang Baona or Yang Zhen'er were satisfied with him—in fact, it was better if they weren't.

His mind was not on the car, the hiking trip, or Tang Baona.

He had been thinking about the "self-mutilation training" he conducted last night.

Last night, he no longer simply used a knife to create wounds; he adopted the method of burning. He discovered that burn wounds healed much slower than knife wounds, taking over 15 minutes and 40 seconds. However, even when charred black, the skin could still recover as if nothing had happened after those 15 minutes and 40 seconds.

Xiang Kun also gritted his teeth and smashed one of his own little fingers; it took 18 minutes to recover to the point where there was no pain and it could move freely.

Furthermore, he was certain that his bones were significantly harder than those of an ordinary person; it had taken him two attempts to break it.

But these were not the biggest discoveries of the night.

The biggest discovery was that he had sliced off a piece of flesh the size of a grain of rice from his little finger.

The wound on his finger recovered perfectly after 13 minutes without a single scar, while the small piece of flesh he had cut off had actually turned into a pile of oxidized gray powder.

His blood, after coagulating, also turned into a fine, pale gray powder that scattered at the slightest touch.

Although he had suspected this for a while, it wasn't until that moment that he was completely certain: the difference between his physical composition and that of a normal human was growing larger and larger.

After driving onto the highway for an hour and a half, and then another hour after exiting, they finally arrived at the meeting point for the hike.

Tang Baona and Yang Zhen'er were part of a group that hiked together often. Besides the three of them, there were over a dozen other men and women.

When Xiang Kun got out of the car, he was surprised to see two familiar faces among the dozen people who had arrived first.

One of them was Coach Shen from the gym Xiang Kun frequented—the very coach who had struck up a conversation with him when he first arrived, only to challenge him to a bench press competition.

The other was also a coach, though not from the gym, but from a combat club downstairs.

Xiang Kun had gone to that club yesterday, wanting to sign up for a course to learn Sanda or boxing for a short-term, intensive training period.

However, after hearing the staff's introduction, he realized that a two-month course mostly focused on physical conditioning, strength, and stamina, with very little instruction on actual combat techniques.

Xiang Kun then suggested that he didn't want physical training and only wanted to learn specific combat techniques and movements, asking to join an advanced-level course.

That remark happened to be overheard by a coach nearby. The coach looked him up and down, then immediately sneered, "You work out a lot, right? You've got a decent build and good muscle, but I hear guys like you say your strength is enough all the time. Your gym muscles aren't the same as Sanda muscles. Come here, hit me with a punch. Use your full strength, hit right here, give it everything..."

As the coach spoke, he walked up to Xiang Kun and patted his own abdomen, signaling for Xiang Kun to strike.

In reality, he had been listening to Xiang Kun talk to the receptionist for a while. Based on the content, he had basically pegged him as a novice who had never trained systematically. He came over to show off and, incidentally, demonstrate the club's prowess.

The coach himself competed occasionally and maintained his training, so his ability to withstand blows was far greater than an ordinary person's. He was also cunning enough to control the distance, making it difficult for Xiang Kun to land a heavy punch. When Xiang Kun threw his punch, he planned to angle his abdomen to meet it; usually, someone who didn't know how to generate power would just have their fist deflected.

But unfortunately for him, he had run into Xiang Kun.

Over the past two weeks, Xiang Kun had been deliberately training his strength, endurance, and agility. After drinking blood three times, his muscle control had become increasingly refined. Even with his distance restricted, he could still rotate his hips and drive his shoulders with minimal movement to unleash his power.

And so, a punch that looked deceptively small sent the coach collapsing to the floor like a shrimp, unable to speak for a long time.

Xiang Kun, of course, had not used his full strength; after two previous experiences with physical altercations, he was well aware of how powerful he had become.

The sight of the coach falling drew the other coaches and students in the club, who swarmed over. The receptionist, who had been standing by, hurried over to explain the situation.

After a while, the fallen coach climbed back up, his face flushed and veins bulging on his forehead, and he insisted on dragging Xiang Kun to the ring.

"Damn it! I misjudged you! Playing the pig to eat the tiger, are you? Which gym are you from? Come on, get in the ring and let's fight!"

Xiang Kun didn't decline or offer excuses. He took the gloves the coach tossed him, put them on, kicked off his shoes and socks, and stepped into the ring.

The coach clearly viewed Xiang Kun as someone who had intentionally posed as a novice to stir up trouble and challenge the gym. Once in the ring, he held nothing back, launching a relentless, wave-like assault of combination punches and kicks.