By the time everyone gathered again, it was already midnight. Ultimate Myotismon was enormous, and his destructive power was staggering. A casual movement of his foot could whip up gales that sent cars flying hundreds of meters. When he unleashed his ultimate attack, nowhere on Earth was truly safe. His Venom Infusion had corroded a chunk out of Mount Fuji, leaving it looking as though someone had taken a bite out of it. Fuji Apple, quickest off the mark, had already submitted its trademark application. Though it smacked of profiteering from a national disaster, it was easy to foresee Fuji Apples selling like hotcakes.
"Master, please, you have to take me as your disciple." The first person Zheng Fan saw after recovering was Zenjiro.
"Take a disciple, huh? How about this: from now on, practice nothing but straight thrusts every day. Once you can thrust your sword ten thousand times in a single breath, I'll decide whether to take you." Zheng Fan smiled. In Buzhou, similar training began after the basic lessons, except the requirement was a hundred thousand thrusts in one breath. The number of thrusts was not what mattered; the goal was sustained, unbroken breath and flow.
"T-ten thousand thrusts in one breath? That's impossible! Zenjiro, this man is just playing you." Akari held Zenjiro's hand, but he remained unmoved.
"Akari, thank you. But I know what I want. I can feel it-this is my chance. If I let it slip away, I'll regret it." With that, Zenjiro gently brushed her hand away, then bowed deeply to Zheng Fan again. "Master, I understand. Thank you for giving me this chance. I'll meet your requirements soon."
Taiki reached out, then drew his hand back. This was Zenjiro's choice. If he could not bear to watch, he should help Zenjiro