Bathing in Thunder

The boundless ocean changed in the blink of an eye.

Wearing nothing but swim trunks, Zhao Cheng swam freely through the sea. Even the fastest fish probably could not match a third of his speed.

In the water, Zhao Cheng moved at over a hundred meters per second, nearly four hundred kilometers per hour—and that was without sprinting at full force.

He was in no hurry. He had come out to soak in the sea simply for fun, or rather, to fulfill some old longings.

In many people's eyes, myths ought to stand high above all else, like gods and Buddhas—without desire or emotion, like clay idols molded into divine forms.

But Zhao Cheng did not think of himself as a god. He was still himself, still that boy from back then. If there was one change, it was only that he was no longer weak, but strong—able to ride the wind and break the waves, fearless before any hardship.

He no longer felt the slightest fear toward the future or the world. He was no longer like he had once been, when in the dead of night, wrapped in his blanket and huddled in the corner of his bed, he would tremble with fear and uncertainty over the future.

Feeling like a complete and utter failure.

Now, such feelings were gone. He rode the wind and broke the waves; even the raging sea had been conquered by him!

Yet those dreams of his—of ideals, of the future, of adventures within beautiful dreams—had not vanished as Zhao Cheng grew stronger. Instead, they had transformed into powerful drive.

Once Zhao Cheng's life state stabilized, he naturally set out. He did not want to wait even a moment longer.

The future changed in an instant and held endless possibilities. He did not