Morning Star Club

The force of Zhou Kai's punch grazed past Old Yang's ear without making the slightest sound.

His body drifted half a step to the right, light as a falling leaf.

Old Yang's full-force punch missed.

What was more, the instant he lost his balance and hurried to find another opening, Zhou Kai's hands had already closed around his joints with uncanny precision.

A submission hold?

How naive!

Against an overwhelming difference in strength, technique was a joke.

Old Yang snorted. The muscles in his arm and shoulder bulged as he gave a sharp jerk, trying to shake his opponent off with brute force.

But Zhou Kai didn't budge.

A force no weaker than his own—if anything, more compact and powerful—locked down his resistance like an iron vise, smothering his response before it could begin.

Thud!

A muffled impact.

An arm lock and a leg trip, all in one smooth motion.

Old Yang's world spun. He lost his balance completely and crashed into the soft grass like a toppled stone statue.

Of course, Zhou Kai hadn't used his full strength, and the grass cushioned the fall, so it wasn't too hard.

Old Yang landed on his back with a grunt, then used the momentum to roll over and get back to his feet.

But his face had already turned beet red.

He'd been taken down in one move by a kid?

He'd never live that down.

Without another word, he charged again with a low growl.

"Not bad! He's way faster than Old Yang!"

Feng Mingtai's eyes lit up. That clean, decisive takedown had thrilled him.

Ma Yifan let out a long breath. His palms were sweating.

Kai really hadn't let him down.

Before they could say anything more, Old Yang lunged at Zhou Kai again.

This time, he showed no sign of holding back. Heavy white breaths burst from his mouth and nostrils, and he put his full strength into every punch.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

A few feinted jabs cut through the air, meant to throw Zhou Kai off.

The moment Zhou Kai raised his hands to block, Old Yang's eyes hardened. He suddenly lowered his center of gravity and swung a vicious hook, his fist hurtling toward Zhou Kai's ribs with a force like wind and thunder.

The punch was fast and brutal. His fist, as big as a teapot, was about to slam into Zhou Kai's side, leaving him no room to dodge.

If it landed, it would be a liver shot, taking him out of the fight on the spot.

A trace of tightly concealed worry flashed in Fischl's beautiful eyes. She nearly shouted for them to stop.

She could tell Old Yang had lost his temper.

The fact that Zhou Kai had pushed him to the point of ignoring their agreement and going all out was already proof enough of his ability.

"Old Yang..."

Fischl's heart pounded as she was about to call out.

But Zhou Kai didn't dodge. He reached out with his right hand and caught Old Yang's heavy punch. Then he leaned in, seized Old Yang's fist with his left hand, and clamped his right around Old Yang's upper arm like an iron claw. He put both arms to work, yanking Old Yang toward himself and twisting him off balance!

Finally, he drove his shoulder into Old Yang's chest like a battering ram.

Thump!

A muffled impact rang out.

Everyone saw Old Yang's burly, eighty-something-kilogram body get launched at an unbelievable angle by Zhou Kai.

He flew like a sack tossed into the air, traced a clumsy arc, and slammed down two meters away.

Thump!

That fall was ten times harder than the last.

Old Yang couldn't catch his breath, and his face turned purple.

He struggled to his feet, his eyes growing bloodshot. His voice hoarse, he said, "Kid, are you trying to make this real?"

"Depends on you."

A moment later, just as expected, Old Yang was taken down with ease once more.

The repeated hard falls had left no obvious external injuries, but the impact had battered his internal organs again and again. His breathing was completely ragged, and his complexion looked awful.

"That's enough! Enough!"

"Yang Hao! Stop embarrassing yourself!"

Fischl's eyes gleamed as she shouted at Yang Hao, who was still trying to get up.

Yang Hao struggled, but Zhou Kai pressed a hand to his shoulder, keeping him from moving.

"Didn't we agree to take it easy?"

"You're not my match."

At level three in Comprehensive Combat, Zhou Kai and Yang Hao might have been evenly matched in technique.

But technique wasn't Zhou Kai's only advantage.

He had the edge in strength, and his speed and agility were on another level entirely.

The bloodshot fury in Yang Hao's eyes gradually faded, replaced by clarity.

After a long silence, he admitted defeat. "You're right. I'm no match for you."

Only then did Zhou Kai let go and allow him to stand.

Avoiding his young mistress's gaze, Yang Hao lowered his head and asked hoarsely, "An Enhanced Human? Or... a True Force Martial Artist?"

The keywords caught Zhou Kai's attention.

But just as he was about to ask more, the excited Fischl and the others rushed over and blocked his view.

"That's perfect! A full ten thousand a month!"

Fischl looked at Zhou Kai with undisguised admiration.

"Five lessons a week. If we're busy, you'll still get paid time off!"

Five hundred yuan a lesson?

Zhou Kai marveled inwardly. Rich people really did treat money like it was nothing.

He smiled, a little awkwardly. "Sure, that works for me."

Seeing this, Ma Yifan quickly chimed in. "Then... does today count as the first lesson?"

Fischl thought about it. She didn't have much planned for the day.

She nodded. "That works."

"You'll have something to brag about now: you're my personal trainer."

"By the way, Yifan said you wanted to start a club to earn some extra income?"

Fischl traced a slender finger along her chin and said casually, "Think of a name soon. When we get back, I'll have someone take care of the business license and all the other paperwork."

Wasn't that a bit much?

Zhou Kai paused. He'd only planned to work as a personal trainer; he'd never thought of starting a club.

But since Fischl had brought it up, he had no reason to refuse.

A name flashed through his mind—the name of someone who had helped him tremendously.

"Morning Star."

"We'll call it the Morning Star Club."

Fischl glanced at Zhou Kai's face, her expression playful. "Morning Star? You have a pretty unusual taste."

Zhou Kai said nothing.

The Morning Star he had in mind probably had little to do with the one she was thinking of.

Ten thousand yuan, transferred with ease.

Zhou Kai stared at the transfer record on his phone, still a little dazed.

No wonder his college roommates had been so eager to head to the rich district to tune pianos and repair coffee machines.

Working for rich people meant more money, less work, and an easy time.

Especially since these young masters and mistresses were pretty easy to fool.

Zhou Kai smiled wryly to himself, shook his head, and put those thoughts aside.

After his first "personal training session," Zhou Kai stopped Yang Hao, who was about to leave with Fischl.

True Force Martial Artists, Enhanced Humans...

Both terms had caught Zhou Kai's interest, so he asked Yang Hao to explain them in detail.

Yang Hao replied with a gloomy expression:

"True Force Martial Artist is the first realm of ancient martial arts. I don't really know the specifics."

"As for Enhanced Humans..."

He spoke with undisguised resentment. "The professional circuit these days is full of monsters who've undergone all kinds of bizarre modifications. People like us, who are completely natural, have no chance anymore."

"Damn it... If I could still compete, who'd want to come out and—"

Yang Hao nearly said something he shouldn't have, but Zhou Kai had already picked up on the important clue.

The so-called "modifications" that Enhanced Humans underwent probably came with a steep barrier to entry.

It wasn't just about money. There had to be other hidden requirements.

Otherwise, with Yang Hao's championship belt and Fischl's family wealth, they wouldn't have been shut out.

Thoughts swirled in Zhou Kai's mind. He wanted to ask more, but Fischl impatiently called Yang Hao over.

He had no choice but to push his curiosity aside and look it up online that night—or simply ask his senior brother, Chen Ping.

Night fell.

Ma Yifan drove Zhou Kai back to Lu Yan's home. He was sleeping in the bedroom Zhou Qing had once used.

He would enter the Nightmare again tonight.

He wanted to test whether the plant he'd found could grow in the Nursery.

If it could, he wanted to see what kind of benefits it might bring him.

As for the possibility that changing his dream location could cause something unusual to happen in the Nightmare, he now had a clear theory.

"The Sanctuary is like an Anchor Point. It keeps me firmly fixed in the same Nightmare space."

"That's a good thing."

Zhou Kai was secretly relieved that he hadn't gone wandering around after first developing Nightmare Syndrome.

If his location changed every night, it would be like playing a new, completely unknown death game each time.

He would never have had the chance to build up any experience. He'd probably have died in some unknown corner long ago.

"No one on the Nightmare Syndrome Forum has mentioned this... Did they not notice? Or are they hoping other patients die sooner?"

The answer was obvious.

For people without a fixed place to live, Nightmare Syndrome was an incurable disease in the truest sense.

The most despairing thing in the world wasn't dying after giving it your all.

It was having even the chance to fight taken away.

Just after midnight.

Zhou Kai went into the bathroom.

After looking around, he simply climbed into the bathtub with the flowerpot in his arms.