The Money Problem

He wouldn't have to pay tuition, and he'd get money too?

When Cheng Sheng heard that, he couldn't help feeling tempted.

"...Ah, it's just that the assessment is too hard. The Black Killing Boxing Gym only recruits disciples once every few years. There might be dozens of people fighting over one or two spots, so the competition will be fierce."

Badan sighed softly.

"You're pretty good yourself, aren't you? Why so pessimistic?"

Cheng Sheng smiled, trying to comfort Badan.

But Badan shook his head. "You think the people we usually see in class are our only opponents? Only people who haven't got the hang of it come to the gym every day. Those who mastered the basics long ago only come once in a long while. They usually practice at home.

"We don't see those people, but every one of them is tough to deal with."

Hearing that, the relaxed look slowly faded from Cheng Sheng's face.

He thought for a moment, then asked, "So are you signing up or not?"

"Of course I am."

Badan looked as though it went without saying. "Who knows when the next chance will come? I can't miss this one."

"You bastard..."

Cheng Sheng gave Badan's sturdy chest a light punch and said, half joking, "So after all that talk, you were trying to scare off a potential competitor."

"Heh heh."

Badan grinned, then waved to him and hurried into the gym, apparently unable to wait to sign up.

Only after Badan left did Song Cai, who had been listening nearby all this time, get a chance to speak to Cheng Sheng.

"A Sheng, you're not thinking of signing up too, are you?"

"I am."

Cheng Sheng nodded and said casually, "Why wouldn't I? It doesn't cost anything to try."

"How does it not?"

Song Cai shook his head. "The registration fee alone is a thousand, and I heard they don't refund it if you fail.

"You've only been training a few days. You definitely won't pass. Rather than hand the gym your money and get beaten up out there, you might as well take that money..."

"There's a registration fee too?"

Cheng Sheng froze. He hadn't thought of that.

"Ah..."

Song Cai was still fretting over that mess in his pants, and one look at Cheng Sheng's suddenly constipated expression told him Cheng Sheng hadn't been bluffing when he said he had no money.

"Forget it, brother."

Song Cai gave up on borrowing money from him and instead warned him solemnly, "I'll figure out the money myself, but whatever you do, don't tell my parents. Whatever you do..."

With that, Song Cai patted Cheng Sheng on the shoulder and walked off on his own.

Cheng Sheng couldn't be bothered with him at all. He was still thinking about the registration fee.

A thousand...

After turning it over again and again, Cheng Sheng finally decided to call his mom, Wu Li.

Holding to the principle that sincerity was the ultimate move, Cheng Sheng didn't make up any nonsense. He honestly told Wu Li everything about the gym's assessment, detail by detail.

Things went as he expected. Wu Li soon agreed, only telling him to stay within his limits, not overdo it, and not get himself hurt...

On the ride home from the gym, Cheng Sheng was still thinking about the formal disciple assessment.

Naturally, he hoped to pass it.

Leaving aside the various benefits of becoming a formal disciple, the chance to learn the core secret techniques of Black Killing Style martial arts alone was enough to make it impossible for him to refuse.

So far, he hadn't even stepped through the door of combat. Only by becoming a formal disciple of the Black Killing Style could he truly find out where the upper limit of martial arts in this world lay, and whether it was worth continuing to invest his time and effort in it.

Besides, the process of becoming a qualified sorcerer was far too long. Many sorcerers likewise relied on other skills to protect themselves while they were weak.

But according to Badan, the formal disciple assessment would draw some veteran students back, and the competition would be exceptionally fierce.

Although he had gained the "Sparrow Spirit" boost through the Initial Sacrifice, bringing his reaction speed to an almost freakish level, he had only spent a little over ten days seriously practicing basic combat techniques. Both his physical condition and his skills still fell considerably short of the veteran students who had immersed themselves in training for years.

So, if I want to be sure of passing the assessment...

Sitting on the swaying minibus, Cheng Sheng watched a water buffalo amble along the dirt road through the window and thought silently, I'll have to perform another sacrifice before the assessment starts.

At that moment, he suddenly regretted not asking his mom, Wu Li, for a little more money over the phone.

Thump!

In a corner of the park, beneath a tall coconut tree, a youth in a white undershirt was repeatedly punching the trunk.

Straight punches, jabs, hooks, front kicks, roundhouse kicks, horizontal elbows, knee strikes...

With each strike from the youth, the tall, sturdy coconut tree shook, its leaves rustling all over. The few coconuts at the top swayed as though they might fall at any moment.

Finally...

Crack!

After the continuous shaking, one coconut broke free of its branch and fell straight down.

The youth throwing punches beneath the tree didn't even raise his head. His body shifted to the side as if by instinct...

Smack!

The coconut hit the ground, and a crack opened in its hard shell. The youth picked up the cracked coconut, tipped his head back, and held it to his mouth. Hooking his fingers into the crack, he pulled it apart with force, and the sweet, refreshing coconut water immediately gurgled into his mouth.

Several similar coconut shells lay scattered around the youth's feet...

"Phew..."

Cheng Sheng let out a long breath, wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his cloth-wrapped hand, then casually tossed aside the emptied shell.

"I'll have to switch trees again this afternoon..."

Cheng Sheng looked up at the number of coconuts left at the top of the tree and spoke to himself.

His mom, Wu Li, had given him the money the next day. On top of the thousand for the registration fee, she had given him another thousand for nutrition, worried that his diet wouldn't keep up with his daily boxing practice.

Since the formal disciple assessment was announced, several times as many people as usual had been going to the boxing gym each day. The training ground was packed, and even more people crowded around the instructors, Songpa and Sulai, asking for guidance.

So Cheng Sheng simply stopped going to the gym and practiced on his own at home.

There were several old parks near his residential complex. Following the example of the banana-tree punching posts at the gym, Cheng Sheng tied burlap around a coconut tree, making a temporary punching post of sorts.

After he practiced for a while, fresh, all-natural, pollution-free coconuts would fall from the tree on their own. Now he didn't even need to bring water.

Of course, this wasn't a method just anyone could copy. Getting hit on the head by a heavy, rock-hard coconut was no joke. Only Cheng Sheng, with his "Sparrow Spirit"-level reaction speed, could completely disregard that.

"My punches seem a little stronger than before. Five meals of meat, eggs, and milk every day during this time, keeping my nutrition up-it's had some effect..."

Cheng Sheng sat down on the edge of a nearby flower bed to rest. Having just finished training, his muscles were pumped, and he looked noticeably "beefier" than before he started practicing martial arts, though he didn't have any muscle definition.

"Training like this is still too slow. I need to find a way to perform a second sacrifice."

Thinking about it gave Cheng Sheng a headache. The date of the Black Killing Boxing Gym's formal disciple assessment was drawing closer and closer, but he still had no prospect of finding a living offering for his second sacrifice.

Just as Cheng Sheng was wondering where he could make a whole lot of money, a familiar figure appeared in his field of vision.

"Cheng Yue?!"

As though something had occurred to him, Cheng Sheng blinked and instinctively stood up.