Monster

"That was far from my limit."

After leaving the Snake Fist Gym, Zhang Fusheng fell into thought. That final two-thousand-pound strike had relied entirely on pushing the Spring Thunder Technique to the Minor Accomplishment level.

His own force-generation technique simply could not produce a punch with triple his strength.

But precisely because of that, it had been nowhere near his true limit.

If he learned the proper techniques for generating force, fully activated the Spring Thunder Technique, and pushed it to the Minor Perfection level—

He estimated he could break three thousand pounds, perhaps even higher.

"The Spring Thunder Breathing Technique doesn't merely stir the qi and blood and produce Tendon-Bone Thunder. It seems capable of amplifying strength too."

"No—more accurately, it's the Tendon-Bone Thunder that awakens the power of all two hundred and six bones in the body."

As his thoughts churned, Zhang Fusheng's brow creased slightly. He turned into an alley and, without drawing attention to himself, slipped a hand to his waist and gripped his pistol.

"May I ask which master has honored me with their presence?" he asked blandly.

A moment passed.

"Young man, your senses are sharp indeed. You've trained your Visualization Method well." A weathered voice rang out.

Then an old man who looked as though he might die at any moment slowly emerged from the shadows, dressed in martial arts attire.

"Who are you?" Zhang Fusheng bent slightly, preparing himself for a fight as he quietly disengaged the pistol's safety.

Before a martial artist reached the Fourth Refinement—that was, before refining the "flesh"—they could not withstand bullets head-on. Chen Nuanyu had taken a bullet that day.

The decrepit old man coughed lightly. He seemed exhausted as he said in a deep voice:

"This old man is the School Master of the Snake Fist Gym."

"Oh?" Zhang Fusheng narrowed his eyes. "What, did I offend the School Master just now?"

"Yes and no."

The old man shook his head earnestly.

"Young man, what you did just now carried the suspicion of challenging our school. It looked as though you had come specifically to the Snake Fist Gym to flaunt your strength."

"This old man did not confront you inside the gym, before everyone's eyes, because I did not wish to make an enemy of you. But according to the rules of the martial arts school, I had to come see you."

Zhang Fusheng remained alert and spoke coldly.

"And then?"

He frowned slightly. He had not directly made a move just now; he really had gone there to test his strength. Were martial arts school owners really this thin-skinned?

Rules? What rules?

Still, when he thought about it, a First Refinement martial artist going to another school's doorstep to test his punching force did sound somewhat improper.

The Snake Fist School Master broke into another violent coughing fit, then said tiredly:

"Naturally, I will spar with you, young man. I will defeat you by three moves or two, so that if you truly came to challenge my school, I will not lose face should word spread in the future."

At the end, he added:

"Don't worry. We'll stop at the proper point."

Zhang Fusheng narrowed his eyes. After thinking for a moment, he finally released his pistol.

After the White Bone Meditation had entered Great Accomplishment and reached the level of [I Observe as I Should Be], his senses truly had become extraordinarily keen.

At that moment, he could clearly tell that this old man harbored no great malice toward him.

More importantly, the old man radiated decay from head to toe. He truly looked like he was on the verge of death. Zhang Fusheng might not necessarily lose to him.

"I heard the old School Master is a Second Refinement martial artist?"

The old man fell silent for a moment.

"Second Refinement? I am now. This old man will make the first move, young man. Be careful."

He gave Zhang Fusheng no chance to say more. Though he looked ready to die of old age, in an instant he crossed more than ten meters and closed in before him!

Fast.

So fast!

Zhang Fusheng was stunned. His pupils suddenly contracted as the old man's fist grew larger and larger in his vision.

He did not know how to fight. He could only follow his instincts, crossing his palms in an attempt to block the wrinkled fist. Yet the old man abruptly changed his fist into a palm, changing a strike into a thrust.

Four fingers thrust forward through the gap between Zhang Fusheng's blocking hands, stabbing straight at his face!

Too fast.

Zhang Fusheng saw only a blur before the thrusting palm stopped steadily before the bridge of his nose.

"One move." The old man withdrew his hand and said through a cough, "I need only defeat you by two more."

As soon as the words fell, he made no unnecessary movement. He simply threw a straightforward punch. This time, there was plainly no variation at all; it came straight at him, stiff and direct.

Yet in Zhang Fusheng's eyes, it seemed "flawless," leaving him nowhere to dodge and nothing to parry with.

His entire gaze was tightly drawn to that fist. He could not look away!

Damn it!

"Second move." The words arrived before the fist, but before the old man had even finished speaking—

The young man whose mind had been seized by the fist suddenly took on a wrathful visage. The aura around him abruptly plummeted to freezing depths, as though he were a corpse!

A corpse had no spirit, and its thoughts could not be captured.

Thus, he drifted lightly aside and evaded the punch.

"Oh?" The old man looked slightly surprised. "Is your White Bone Meditation close to Great Accomplishment? Young man, you can't be more than twenty-two or twenty-three, can you?"

"Eighteen." Zhang Fusheng answered coldly. He retreated three steps in succession, staring fixedly at the old man. "How did you know it was the White Bone Meditation?"

The old man smiled.

"The first moment I saw you in the Snake Fist Gym, I knew. That scent of yours is too strong."

His expression abruptly tightened, becoming solemn yet wistful.

"Eighteen years old, with a White Bone Meditation nearing Great Accomplishment. Hong Tianbao has taken in another fine disciple. No wonder he sent you to challenge my school. So, how did he find me?"

Zhang Fusheng froze, then suddenly understood.

This old bastard knew School Master Hong, and they seemed to be rivals. He had likely misunderstood something. Wait.

School Master Hong stood above the Twelve Refinements, a genuine Martial Arts Master. Was a Second Refinement martial artist worthy of being School Master Hong's rival?

While Zhang Fusheng's thoughts raced, the old man sent another palm drifting toward him.

The aged palm was like wind brushing over a mountain of ten thousand cliffs—softness and ferocity coexisting, carrying a hint of being able to slip through every opening. It was another move that was "impossible to evade"!

That punch before, this palm now—both seemed connected to the spirit?

A Visualization Method?

Zhang Fusheng recalled what the honest-looking Niu Dali had said in visualization class.

The Visualization Method was the most basic thing, but also the most important—far more important than tempering the body.

His thoughts spun in that flash of lightning and flint.

"Ha!" he thundered. Tendon-Bone Thunder erupted within his body, then burst from his mouth as half a peal of shocking thunder, reverberating through the alley and shattering the old man's palm and fingers' sense of "slipping through every opening" and "no escape possible"!

A look of astonishment appeared on the old man's face.

Zhang Fusheng turned sideways, evaded the attack, and tried to counterattack.

He gave it everything he had.

He performed the Visualization Method, envisioning himself as white bone. Flesh grew upon that white bone, and light was born with it; then, beneath his skin, a faint glow truly shone forth!

The Snake Fist School Master was genuinely shocked this time and cried out:

"Great Accomplishment White Bone Meditation! Fuck your mother, Hong Tianbao—what kind of dogshit luck is this!"

All two hundred and six bones throughout his body glimmered. Zhang Fusheng stirred the Tendon-Bone Thunder again, holding it without releasing it, compressing and interweaving it within his body until it tangled into a true spring thunderclap.

Then—

He punched.

The spring thunder cultivated within his body burst through the three thousand pores on his fist, as though his punch had hurled out a bolt of thunder.

"Boom! Crack!"

Thunder shook through the alley.

"Spring Thunder Technique? How can the Spring Thunder Technique possess such mysteries?" The old man seemed to understand the methods of Hong Ji Martial Arts Hall extremely well. Though he shouted aloud, he no longer dared to be careless.

As he cursed "Hong Tianbao, who stepped in dog shit," he formed a hand seal with both hands, stomped his foot, pulled forward, and barked, "Strike!"

He too let out a thunderous roar!

The two thunderclaps collided.

The old man pressed forward, slapped Zhang Fusheng's fist aside, tapped a finger lightly against his brow, then made a feigned chopping palm at his neck.

Both stopped at the proper point.

Fine beads of cold sweat emerged on Zhang Fusheng's back. He truly had no idea how to evade or block those two attacks.

Had they landed solidly—

He would certainly have died.

"I have already defeated you by three moves." The old man stepped back. Though he had won, there was not the slightest joy on his face. Instead, he looked as though he had eaten shit.

"Why?" he bellowed. He stared at Zhang Fusheng for a long while, until Zhang Fusheng's hairs stood on end.

After a long time—

"Fuck your mother, Hong Tianbao!" the old man cursed again, then turned and left in a huff without the slightest hesitation.

It seemed he never wanted to see Zhang Fusheng again.

As he walked away, Zhang Fusheng could faintly hear words such as "dogshit luck," "why," and "Heaven is unfair" echoing in the distance.

The curses mingled with the car alarms outside the alley, which had been triggered by the thunderclaps.

Zhang Fusheng wiped away his sweat.

"Monster. Old monster!" he declared with certainty.

The old man walking out of the alley also sighed.

"Monster. Little monster!"

"Fuck your mother, Hong Tianbao!"