Chapter 38

This kick came with extreme ferocity, but Zhang Tie, who was well-prepared, dodged even faster. In an instant, his body swayed, and the kick from the little brat missed. However, before Zhang Tie could feel triumphant, the little brat's fist was already aimed at his chest. Zhang Tie, who wanted to test the little brat's strength, blocked with his arm. The little brat's fist hit Zhang Tie's armored arm, producing a dull thud. Zhang Tie felt a tremendous force travel through his arm, making it numb. He took a step back, inwardly alarmed. He truly hadn't expected that this little brat, who was two or three years younger than him, would be so fierce. The power of the little brat's punch was almost on par with his own full-strength punch. From this single punch, Zhang Tie judged that the little brat's strength was slightly above his own, ranking just below Baghdad in the Airplane Brotherhood.

With such strength, if it were a one-on-one fight, Zhang Tie wouldn't be intimidated. After all, he was a few years older, with advantages in height and weight. Even if he couldn't win, he wouldn't be completely helpless. A draw was still possible. However, if he had to act as a human punching bag, taking hits without retaliating, the outcome would be much easier to determine.

Wearing thick armor, which reduced the damage from his opponent's attacks, also undeniably affected Zhang Tie's agility. After enduring a few more moves, Zhang Tie's reaction time slowed slightly. The little brat seized the opportunity, kicking Zhang Tie in the chest and sending him flying, landing heavily on the ground.

This fall left Zhang Tie dizzy and disoriented, and the impact on his chest made him feel suffocated. It took him a while to catch his breath and struggle to his feet. As soon as he stood up, he saw Mary, that dead woman, tenderly wiping the little brat's sweat with a towel and planting two heavy kisses on his face. The little brat still looked smug, drinking water and looking at him with disdain.

"I thought you were strong, but you're just a waste of space, unable to last a few moves!"

Engaging in a verbal spat with such an arrogant little brat, Zhang Tie felt it was beneath him. Should he tell the little brat that every hit he landed was actually helping the Iron Embryo Fruit in the Black Iron Castle mature? That the little brat was actually working for him? Ha, what a beautiful thought...

"Manjusha, I love you!" Zhang Tie shouted in his heart...

Behind the helmet, a sarcastic smile appeared on Zhang Tie's face. Once his mindset relaxed, he didn't take this defeat to heart. After standing up, he stretched his limbs and took a few deep breaths. Apart from the dull pain in his chest, he felt no major issues. He then hooked his finger at the little brat again.

"Kaman, you're despicable!"

...

The little brat's anger flashed across his face, and he put down his water bottle, charging over again. Just seven or eight minutes later, Zhang Tie was once again kicked by the little brat, flying and landing heavily on the ground. It took him half a minute to get up.

By this time, the little brat was also panting heavily.

"Kaman, you're despicable!"

...

After more than twenty minutes, Zhang Tie, who had been broken through the center, was caught off guard by the little brat and hit with four or five rapid punches to the chest. One punch forced Zhang Tie to take a step back. After retreating five steps, the little brat roared and, before Zhang Tie could react, delivered a powerful elbow strike to his abdomen. This blow made Zhang Tie feel the veins in his neck throb, and his eyes were filled with stars.

The abdomen is soft, and Zhang Tie didn't fly backward. Instead, his left leg went weak, as if he had stepped on cotton, and he knelt down. As soon as he knelt, he felt a gust of wind by his ear. Without thinking, he instinctively performed the move Arno had taught him, lowering his head and using his arm to protect his head.

A dull thud sounded as his arm blocked the fierce kick, but the force still transmitted to Zhang Tie's body, kicking him to the ground. He rolled several times, stopping two meters away, and lay still.

The little brat, who had knocked Zhang Tie down again, stood there panting heavily, sweat covering his head. His eyes were fixed on the fallen Zhang Tie. Such a fight was a huge drain on both the attacker and the defender.

In the Iron Thorns Combat Hall, it was rare for a sparring partner like Zhang Tie to be a human punching bag for an entire session. Besides taking hits, a sparring partner's role often included helping members of the combat hall improve their skills. This wasn't just about taking hits; it involved a lot of verbal and intellectual interaction. A high-level sparring partner for a marksman was like a master who constantly guided others to improve. During sparring, they could identify mistakes in the opponent's attacks, weaknesses in their techniques, issues with their attack rhythm, and problems that might arise from psychological preferences in real combat. This was the value of a combat hall sparring partner. Such top-tier sparring partners were often among the most valuable people in the combat hall. Zhang Tie, new to this field, was still at a low level and hadn't encountered these top-tier individuals. Today's opponent was here because of a woman, intent on beating him up, so the session was particularly tough.

If someone Zhang Tie's age had faced such a beating, they might have already broken down. Even if they didn't, seeing themselves repeatedly beaten by a little brat would likely fill them with despair and a sense of failure, completely sapping their spirit.

Lying on the ground, Zhang Tie wasn't thinking about these issues. Instead, he was reflecting on the little brat's kick. After regaining his senses, he realized that he shouldn't have used his hands to protect his head from the kick. Instead, he should have used the more resilient parts of his body, like his shoulders and back, to "welcome" the kick. This would have been better and caused less damage. In situations where attacks couldn't be avoided, the choice between passive defense and active acceptance made a significant difference. However, avoiding and defending were instinctive, and it took rigorous training to overcome these instincts with a calm mind.

Understanding this, Zhang Tie slowly struggled to his feet. The little brat's attacks must have advanced the maturity of the Iron Embryo Fruit in the Black Iron Castle a bit more. Ha, how exciting! Let these little brats hit harder! Working for me, I won't pay you, but as long as you don't accuse me of child labor, ha... ha...

Different perspectives on the same event lead to different feelings, different attitudes, and different outcomes. These outcomes accumulate to shape each person's destiny. Zhang Tie didn't understand these principles, but because of the little tree, he was already facing the same situation with a perspective and feeling that transcended everyone else's.

Zhang Tie found joy in this seemingly arduous and thankless task. This joy was like finding the legendary Fountain of Youth in the desert, giving him energy instead of making him feel discouraged.

As he recovered his strength and slowly got up, Zhang Tie, to the shock of the little brat and Mary, twisted his neck and body, adjusted, and then hooked his finger at the little brat again.

"Kaman, you're despicable!"

...

A few minutes later, Zhang Tie was knocked down again, but he stood up optimistically and without concern...

"Kaman, you're despicable!"

...

"Kaman, you're despicable!"

...

Watching Zhang Tie, who was repeatedly knocked down but always stood up again, seemingly enjoying the beating, Mary's eyes filled with a fear she couldn't understand. The helmet on Zhang Tie's head seemed to become more sinister and powerful in her eyes.

...

It was already the umpteenth time. When Zhang Tie struggled to get up from the ground, his entire body, from head to toe, ached terribly. His 200-odd bones felt like they were falling apart, and he found he couldn't stand up. So, Zhang Tie sat on the ground, panting.

Sweat soaked his clothes and dripped into his eyes, making them sting. He tried to remove the helmet that felt like it was weighing down his neck, but after a few futile attempts, he couldn't find the string tied at the back. He found it difficult to even lift his hands.

A bottle of water rolled to his feet. Zhang Tie, with great effort, opened his eyes and saw the little brat, also exhausted, sitting on the ground, his face slightly pale, his hair wet and lifeless, drinking water. The look in his eyes had lost its arrogance and was now filled with an indescribable emotion. Mary, that dead woman, was massaging the little brat's back to help him recover, not even glancing at Zhang Tie.

Zhang Tie didn't hesitate, grabbed the bottle, and opened it. Just as he was about to take a sip, he realized he was still wearing the helmet, which only had a few air holes. Not wanting to reveal his weakness, he coolly put the cap back on the bottle.

The two, both panting heavily, stared at each other. After a while, the little brat, swaying slightly, stood up, his smug look returning. "Remember my name, I'm Benetta, Andrew Benetta. Next time, I'll beat you so badly you can't get up, and you'll have to apologize to Mary!"

Zhang Tie, not wanting to argue with the little brat, simply said, "I'll be here the day after tomorrow..."

The little brat and Mary left the room. Watching Mary's back, Zhang Tie couldn't resist teasing, "Sister Mary, remember our lifetime promise!"

Mary's back wobbled, as if she was about to fall...

Did my words have that much power? Zhang Tie scratched his head, only to touch a thick layer of leather. Damn, who invented such a difficult helmet to remove...

——

Thank you all for your support. The latest battle report: With everyone's support, the Black Iron Castle has risen from 12th to 7th on the weekly recommendation list, breaking through five ranks. The 308 brave warriors sent by the brothers have defended the castle, showing great valor!

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