The Meaning Beyond

Heming hurried toward the warehouse, wondering who that guy was—or rather, what he was.

When he arrived, the ancient priest was still standing there, absorbing the black mist.

Heming said nothing and went straight for him with a punch.

The blow landed with tremendous force. Yes, Heming's fist struck empty air. The ancient priest paid him no attention until he had absorbed all the black mist.

Heming rubbed his hand. Whew, I was way too impatient just now. He'd put everything into that punch, and it had all rebounded on him. It really hurt.

After absorbing the black mist, the ancient priest looked Heming over and said, "You Chinese have done very well. Unfortunately, you came a little too late. I've already absorbed that Gnat Demon. Of course, you can tell people you killed it. I am Ujya Juniro, one of the Fourteen Imperial Officials. I came here under the Emperor's orders. Now that my task is complete, I'll be leaving. Your punch just now had plenty of power but no technique. Perhaps you were too eager to save someone. I admire you. There are fewer and fewer people like you. It's a pity you're Chinese. This is all I can do for you, young man. You still have a long road ahead of you..." He swept his hands outward, and a huge ball of black energy shot into Heming's body. Then Ujya Juniro vanished.

Heming rubbed his chest and felt a strange power being absorbed by his body. Suddenly, he was overcome by dizziness and collapsed...

In the darkness, Heming found himself in a very old Japanese-style dojo. It was enormous, but completely empty...

"Welcome to the Hall of Trials. Here, you may choose from many opponents. You can train for _ days, which is equivalent to _ hours in real life. Nothing here will improve your physical abilities; this is only for practicing combat techniques. Please go to the selection board on the right and choose your opponent. Note that you must wait at least _ minutes before choosing a new opponent. You may adjust your opponent's strength to match yours or to match their real-world strength. That is all." A strange voice appeared out of nowhere, then suddenly vanished.

Heming went to the black selection board on the right. When he opened the selection menu, he was almost stunned. There were over ten thousand opponents to choose from. Even more astonishing, there were hundreds with the surname Guangcheng. Heming checked carefully, but neither Yaming nor Ming Jian was on the list. Could they have never fought outside? Kuo Ming's name was there, of course, as was his team leader, Qiming. After looking for a while, Heming decided to choose Qiming as his opponent, with the difficulty set to match.

Once he made his choice, Qiming appeared in front of him, dressed in a black suit.

Heming decided to strike first. He darted toward Qiming and threw a punch with all his strength. Qiming didn't even dodge. He simply caught Heming's fist, then punched him hard in return...

Heming went flying, his chest hurting terribly...

"You have died _ times. Please choose another opponent," the same voice said.

Heming was baffled. It had said "match." Why was Qiming so much stronger than him?

As Heming puzzled over it, a Japanese man carrying a katana suddenly appeared in the dojo.

The Japanese man stared at Heming in surprise, then smiled and asked, "Chinese? You're pretty weak, yet you chose such a strong opponent!"

Heming got to his feet and said, "Yeah. Can you tell me what 'match' means?"

The Japanese man laughed. "Ha ha! It means someone who was born around the same time as you, not someone with the same strength. Even I might not be able to beat the opponent you chose. Watch—I'll give it a try. It's been a long time since anyone came here."

Heming said nothing, only nodding.

The Japanese man walked over to the selection board and tapped it twice. Kuo Ming appeared in the dojo.

Heming's eyes lit up. Could this guy really be stronger than Kuo Ming?

"Ha! Seven Evil Blood Styles—Blood Dance!" The Japanese man drew his sword almost instantly and slashed at Kuo Ming. Judging by the blade in his hand, Heming guessed it was that demon sword.

Several bloody afterimages howled toward Kuo Ming on a fierce gust of wind. Kuo Ming drew a silver-white flexible sword from his waist and began to whirl it around.

The flexible sword moved so fast that Heming could only see flashes of white. The Japanese man already had several wounds on his body.

The flexible sword grew faster and faster, and the Japanese man could no longer defend himself. Kuo Ming lunged diagonally, opening a deep gash in the Japanese man's throat...

"You have died _ times. Please choose another opponent."

The Japanese man sat down to rest for a while, then got up and said, "I can only hold out for a dozen seconds or so. The people in Pitch Black are far too strong, and every one of their experts is incredibly powerful. Last time, Tenkan Shichiro fought Guangcheng Ming An. It was a draw, but a lot of us knew that Guangcheng Ming An was probably holding back a lot. He didn't even use his abilities—he just held back with his inner strength and techniques until it was a draw. Sigh..."

Heming couldn't imagine what Kuo Ming's ability would do once he used it.

The Japanese man continued, "If I'm not mistaken, you've only just joined Pitch Black, so you probably don't know what it did in the past. When Pitch Black was first established, Portugal's former government was forcibly replaced. Pitch Black entered Portugal as the new government's strategic partner and obtained a huge tract of land. Because of this, one country was even preparing to send troops into Portugal. Unfortunately, a few days later, that country suffered terrorist attacks on most of its military bases and couldn't send them. Later, an alliance of countries formed a powerful special forces unit and sent it into Portugal, to the headquarters of the Pitch Black Company..." The Japanese man's face twisted with terror...

"A month later, while those countries were desperately searching for the special agents they'd sent, every government received a notice demanding compensation. Japan was included, of course. The Pitch Black Company demanded ten billion dollars from each country. If any country failed to pay within a month, the people it had sent would vanish from the face of the earth. The countries that had sent people were all speechless. The entire special forces unit of more than two hundred people had been captured..."

"My father was one of the captives. Pitch Black made more than _ billion dollars from that incident for no apparent reason. A month after receiving the money, a plane bound for the United States capital brought back the _ people. Clearly, none of them wanted to go back there. No one knew what had happened to the _ people while they were in Pitch Black's hands. Even their own memories had been partially erased. After that, Pitch Black began expanding rapidly around the world..." The Japanese man glanced at Heming and drew his katana.

"Then let's sharpen your combat instincts, too."