Chapter 7

"Damn it!"

I had punched the hard wall nearly fifty times, and the number "10000" reluctantly dropped by one digit, becoming "9999." My fists were already so swollen that I couldn't feel the pain, and I even suspected that all ten of my finger bones had shattered. The blood dripped onto the equally hard stone floor, making me feel incredibly exhausted.

"If this continues, I'll die of exhaustion before I can break this wall."

I glanced around the spacious underground hall. The instructor was gone, and the others were desperately punching and kicking the walls.

In front of a man as strong as a polar bear, the wall's health points had already dropped to eight thousand. He had reduced it by over a thousand points, displaying terrifying strength.

Of course, he wasn't the strongest. The strongest was a middle-aged man of average build with a yellow complexion who didn't look particularly impressive. The wall in front of him had dropped to six thousand seven hundred points. Each of his punches and kicks carried an indescribable ferocity that made one's scalp tingle. Among these devil-like individuals, I was probably the weakest.

In school, I had always excelled in sports—running, high jump, long jump, basketball, soccer—none of which I was worse at than others. Fighting was my forte, and the nickname "Boss of the Underground Gang" in the five nearby junior high schools wasn't given lightly.

I never thought that one day I would find myself so weak. Among these terrifying killing machines, I was like a weak lamb.

"If this continues, I won't make it through today, let alone tomorrow. I'll die here, and I won't have the chance to avenge my parents."

As I felt a mix of anxiety and despair, my eyes suddenly brightened when I saw the people who had been killed or severely injured. No one had bothered to clean up the dead bodies, which still lay on the ground, gradually turning cold, with their blood drying. The severely injured were just waiting to take their last breath, and no one thought of treating them.

I left my spot and found a secluded corner near a man whose neck had been twisted. I placed my palm on the ground and let the golden shroud slowly extend over it.

I wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but I noticed that the golden shroud had grown a bit longer.

As the golden shroud approached the corpse, it sprouted countless tiny buds and began to devour the flesh. For every bit of flesh it consumed, my exhausted strength recovered a bit, and my physical injuries began to heal.

My numb hands suddenly started to hurt, a sign that the injuries were healing. I then heard the faint crackling sound of my bones reassembling. My hands, which had been so damaged that they looked like raw meat, began to regrow skin.

After about half an hour, my strength was fully restored, and my injuries were almost completely healed. The corpse looked as if it had been dead for half a year, and no one wanted to look at it again. I quietly retracted the golden shroud, which was still somewhat reluctant, and stood back in front of my wall.

This time, it went much better. I only needed about thirty punches to reduce the wall's health points by one, making it "9998."

This was still a poor performance, and at this rate, I wouldn't be able to break the wall by noon, but at least it was progress.

My thoughts were simple: as long as I keep improving, I will eventually complete this arduous training.

During the third "rest" period, the middle-aged man of average build, who didn't look particularly impressive, stopped his punches and kicks and quietly walked to my side. He whispered, "Are you the person Xu Fu mentioned?"

I was slightly startled but didn't show it as I retracted the golden shroud.

Before I could ask how he knew Xu Fu, the man suddenly pressed his hand on the hard concrete floor, which immediately cracked like a spider web. I never thought I would encounter a legendary "martial arts expert" in the dark training camp. Just from this move, he could have stunned the world outside, but the man didn't seem to care. He just stared at me with a fierce gaze.

The man's aura completely dominated the scene, so I could only nod dumbly.

The man whispered, "I will teach you seven postures. These seven postures are the most effective ways to unleash human potential, as verified by modern sports science. If you follow my instructions and work hard enough, you can have lunch in a month!"

"A month? Do we have to do this training every day? I'll starve to death before I can have lunch!"

The man gave me a deep look but didn't explain anything. He just stood up and demonstrated a few postures.

These postures were simple and easy to remember, but I didn't believe that these ordinary-looking postures could be so effective. After demonstrating the postures, the man left without a word, leaving me unsure of his intentions.

I thought to myself, "Maybe Xu Fu asked this man to help me? But how can these seven ordinary postures, which even a three-year-old could understand, be of any use? Teaching me a few military boxing moves would be more effective."

I muttered to myself and, after my strength had mostly recovered, walked back to my wall. Although I didn't believe these seven postures were special, I still tried them out: left straight punch, right straight punch, left elbow strike, right elbow strike, front kick, side kick, and back kick.

Soon, I discovered that these seven attack postures were indeed much more effective than random strikes. As I became more proficient, a few hours later, I could reduce the wall's health points by one for every ten attacks.

I had always been talented in fighting, and after becoming familiar with these seven postures, I could combine them in various ways to form a series of attacks.

As I was hitting the wall enthusiastically, some people had already completed the training.

The first to finish was the middle-aged man who taught me the seven postures. The second to fifth were a group of foreigners who looked more like beasts than humans, including a powerful black man. With my limited knowledge of human races, I couldn't tell if they were Americans, British, French, Russians, or Italians. To me, all white people looked the same, and all black people looked the same. So, who ranked where didn't matter to me. What mattered was the lunch that would follow.

Unfortunately, just as the wall's health points in front of me finally dropped below nine thousand, the instructor's call for lunch rang out.

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