At the End of the Road, I Took Another Half-Step—My Call Ushered in Spring's First Thunder!

When he got home, Zhang Fusheng was still somewhat dazed.

No matter what, he could not connect [Daoism] and the [Three Pure Ones] with cults and Evil Gods.

Eighteen years after being reincarnated, this was the first time he had heard of things from his past life—or perhaps, gods?

"Evil God."

Zhang Fusheng muttered to himself.

Were these Three Pure Ones those Three Pure Ones?

If they were...

"Then I want to be a cultist too!"

He turned on his computer and instinctively wanted to search for the Three Pure Ones and Daoism, but forcibly stopped himself.

"Since the Federation guards against them so tightly that it refuses to reveal even the cult's name or the gods' sacred titles, there must be a reason. There might even be some kind of sensitive-word mechanism."

He shut down the computer, paced back and forth, and gradually reined in his tangled thoughts.

"These matters are still far away from me. I won't think about them for now—I should handle proper business first."

Zhang Fusheng took out a sheet of white paper and wrote and sketched across it, considering his next trading target. Since the Contract Book had a "cooldown," the sooner he completed another trade, the better.

"Chen Nuanyu's talent? For now, I have no idea how to make her agree to a trade, and I can't beat her either. The risk is too great."

"There definitely aren't few people like Old Master Wang, but Old Master Wang knows me well and is relatively less guarded. That's why the trade went so smoothly. Where am I supposed to find the next target?"

After thinking for a moment, Zhang Fusheng wrote down two words: "hospital."

"People in suffering are more likely to make a deal—the hospital has the most unfortunate people, and the most desperate people."

The Seventh District's general hospital was several kilometers away, but it was not his first choice. Zhang Fusheng's preferred destination was a specialized cancer hospital in the Eighth District.

People who had cancer.

"The target must have several decades of cultivation experience. Their cultivation progress does not matter—I can buy their 'cultivation time.'"

"Visualization Methods rank above Breathing Techniques, which rank above all other arts. I don't yet have a true cultivation method, so I'll ignore that for now."

"As for talent?"

After pondering for a moment, Zhang Fusheng shook his head. How could someone with genuine talent be lying in an Eighth District cancer hospital, waiting desperately to die?

"It's two in the afternoon now. Perfect. I'll first use those fifty years of Breathing Technique cultivation time, then make a trip to the cancer hospital. Tonight, I'll return to the clinic and hand over the regular payment."

After planning out his day, Zhang Fusheng opened the safe at home, took out the pistol his father had hidden away, tucked it at his waist, and only then sat down cross-legged.

"Contract Book, give me some points!"

**Boom!!**

Old Master Wang's fifty-one years of [Breathing Technique] cultivation time suddenly merged with Zhang Fusheng.

[First year: Benefiting from my Great Accomplishment White Bone Meditation, my Spring Thunder Technique progressed rapidly.]

[Fourth year: I cultivated the Spring Thunder Technique to Minor Accomplishment. Tendon-Bone Thunder rang out without end, but the weakness in my innate physique was ultimately exposed, and I could advance no further.]

[Fifth year: I had a flash of inspiration, but it was vague and unreal.]

[Sixth year: Amid repeated Tendon-Bone Thunder, my blocked meridians seemed to have been shaken open somewhat.]

[Seventh year: I fell into a bottleneck.]

[Nineteenth year: The faint thunder within my body grew ever louder. My meridians were completely opened, and my innate physique improved by a measure. The Spring Thunder Technique truly could improve one's aptitude.]

[Twenty-second year: In the depths of winter, I saw a bolt of lightning streak across the sky. All things revived, and spring arrived. I seemed to gain some insight.]

[Twenty-third year: During one utterly ordinary cultivation session, I opened my mouth and spat out a thunderous spring boom. I successfully broke the Spring Thunder Technique through to Great Accomplishment.]

[Twenty-fourth year: Though the Spring Thunder Technique could only be cultivated to Great Accomplishment, I refused to accept it and tried to cultivate new ground at the end of the road.]

[Twenty-fifth year: I gained nothing.]

[Twenty-sixth year: I gained nothing.]

Zhang Fusheng digested the new memories, feeling somewhat helpless. Chen Yuque had said before that, unlike the White Bone Meditation, which could be cultivated all the way to [Limit-Breaking]—

the Spring Thunder Technique could only be cultivated to Great Accomplishment. The realms of Perfection and Limit-Breaking did not exist for it.

What a pity.

[Twenty-seventh year: I gained nothing.]

[Twenty-eighth year: I gained nothing.]

...

[Forty-ninth year: Just as in the past, I waited for spring's first thunder. Every year, I had only this one chance to observe the first thunder of early spring.]

[It was an utterly ordinary day. Lightning flashed, splitting apart the heavy clouds. Sunlight poured through the breach, layer upon layer spreading across the entire world. The sight looked as though spring thunder had blasted open a heavenly gate.]

[I watched, utterly entranced.]

[Fiftieth year: I seemed to have truly found the direction in which to open up the road ahead.]

[Fifty-first year: I tried sealing the Tendon-Bone Thunder within my body. It gathered more and more, fiercer and fiercer, until strands of Tendon-Bone Thunder entwined into one true clap of startling thunder before erupting in a tremendous release.]

[Startling thunder echoed within my body.]

[I stood at the end of the Spring Thunder Technique's road, yet took another half-step forward.]

[I succeeded.]

The memories of cultivating the Spring Thunder Technique for fifty-one years were incomparably clear in Zhang Fusheng's mind. It was as though he had truly painstakingly cultivated the Breathing Technique for fifty-one years.

The instant he opened his eyes.

Rumble, rumble, rumble!

Zhang Fusheng exhaled a breath of turbid air and expelled a peal of thunder. Though it was far inferior to a true heavenly thunderclap, it was still deafening.

He clearly sensed that his blocked meridians opened in an instant, his blood and qi suddenly flowing freely. Every breath stirred a Tendon-Bone Thunder.

And those Tendon-Bone Thunders remained hidden without erupting, accumulating within his body. Each faint Tendon-Bone Thunder eventually merged into one before suddenly exploding.

Boom! Crack!

Thunder burst forth through the pores all over his body, as well as from his mouth and nose.

This time, it was as though the heavens had truly struck down a bolt of heavenly lightning!

Just like the first peal of early spring thunder he had witnessed fifty-one times over those fifty-one years!

The enormous roar reverberated through the living room. Glass cups exploded, the mirror shattered into pieces, and the sound of spring thunder broke through the windows and carried farther outside.

"Ah!" Next door, Old Master Wang, who had been blissfully sensing Mysterious Factor, jolted in fright at the thunderclap.

An elderly resident in the complex raised their head and glanced at the clear sky.

"Thunder from a clear sky? It's going to rain, it's going to rain!"

Summer rain had always come whenever it pleased. Once thunder suddenly sounded, the rain would soon follow.

Passersby hurriedly began making their way home.

Inside the house, whose window glass had all shattered.

Zhang Fusheng still sat quietly cross-legged, utterly motionless.

A faint black substance seeped from the thirty-six thousand pores across his body—long-standing impurities within him, some in his organs, others clinging to his bones.

Yet now, all of it had been shaken out by that clap of startling thunder!

"Minor Perfection of the Spring Thunder Technique?"

He had only taken half a step forward at the end, so it was merely Minor Perfection. If he took one complete step, that would be the true realm of [Perfection].

He exhaled a breath of Pure Qi and murmured to himself.

"The road has grown longer."

Vast Mysterious Factor gathered and surged within his body. It had long since been shaken into his skin and flesh by that spring thunderclap.

In an instant, he gained five hundred pounds of strength.

As a martial artist, the First Refinement was complete.

Outside the window, a light drizzle began to fall.