Chapter 9

To be honest, I've never been to such a high-end place as this hotel in my life, so I didn't recognize most of the dishes on the menu. When I lifted the plate and saw the black pepper sirloin steak, which was much smaller than I had expected, along with grilled squid rings, baked snails, and shrimp sauce, I couldn't help but curse a few times, thinking this hotel was really heartless.

So expensive, yet giving so little. Actually, I, this country bumpkin, didn't know that the portion sizes of Western cuisine are always this small.

Although I ordered relatively "moderately," because I was so hungry, I actually ordered quite a lot, about ten dishes. I quickly devoured all the food, and I was quite full.

When the hotel waiter came to clear the dishes, he brought me something else—a thick photo album. He gently placed it on the table and left without saying a word.

After he left, I curiously opened the album. Inside were various photos of scantily clad women, each one with a seductive and alluring figure. The album was even divided into European, American, and Asian sections, with the women's nationalities, body measurements, and prices clearly marked. Even the cheapest Japanese girl was priced at 5,000.

I couldn't figure out what these women were for, so I threw the album aside and ignored it.

Now I understand why those people in the training camp could still be so energetic after staying there for so long.

Although they couldn't eat the free lunch and dinner provided by the instructor, they could buy breakfast and snacks, albeit at exorbitant prices.

Now I also understand why Xu Fu deliberately left me a credit card with a large amount of money and told me, "Soon you will understand that for people in the dark world, money has no value. As long as you can survive, money is never a problem for those who walk in the dark world."

On the second day of training, I was much better than the first day.

As I stood in front of the wall, punching it fiercely, I even had time to observe the movements of others.

As expected, almost everyone abandoned fancy moves and hit the wall with straightforward, powerful punches.

The middle-aged man who taught me the seven poses only used the left jab, right jab, front kick, and side kick, the simplest actions. Each hit could reduce the training wall's health by more than seven points, occasionally using a fierce spinning kick or side elbow to deliver even greater force.

The middle-aged man's technique had a fierce and indescribable quality, as if it contained something I couldn't understand, something that was also present in the instructor's punches.

By the way, today our training camp welcomed fourteen new members, one of whom was particularly eye-catching.

This new member had a head full of white hair, a rebellious and arrogant attitude, and over a dozen piercings all over his body, making him look very unconventional. His appearance and physique suggested he was a genuine Japanese, and his hair color was clearly not natural. His exaggerated style indicated he was a very individualistic person.

This white-haired man ignored everyone, as if no one was worthy of his attention. He was very cool and spent the whole morning staring into space, not even bothering to punch or kick the wall.

Soon it was lunchtime. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and glanced at the cold wall, whose health points had dropped to less than 8,000. Although I knew I wasn't qualified to eat lunch, I felt a bit relieved. Today, I had improved at least three times compared to yesterday. Although my strength was still considered weak among the fierce people in the dark training camp, this change was already very satisfying.

When the instructor pushed the meal cart in, the rebellious white-haired man slowly stood up, glanced at the poorly presented black bread, and deliberately elongated his voice to say, "Are we supposed to eat this? This food would be rejected even by dogs. Instructor, can you change the food for us?"

The instructor, who had seen many such troublemakers, said expressionlessly, "You haven't completed the training task, so you don't even get the bread. Those who have completed the task can come and get their food."

Seeing that the instructor ignored him, the white-haired man's eyes suddenly flashed with a fierce light, and his tone became extremely cold, "I advise you to change the food for Lord Saito. Otherwise, I can't guarantee what will happen next. Lord Saito's temper has always been bad."

The instructor didn't even want to speak, not even glancing at him. After giving the black bread to those who had completed the task, he pushed the meal cart and turned to leave.

This disregard made the white-haired man very angry. He let out a strange cry and suddenly leaped into the air, kicking the instructor's head with a swift and powerful kick. The kick was so fast that I momentarily thought the instructor's head would be kicked to pieces.

But in the next second, reality told me that predicting such a high-level fight was beyond the capabilities of a new member.

The instructor countered with a punch, directly meeting the white-haired man's flying kick. The white-haired man was immediately sent flying, and his seemingly powerful kick was easily deflected by the instructor.

The white-haired man's reaction was also very quick. He performed a backflip in mid-air and landed steadily on his feet.

Although his outcome was much better than the golden-haired foreigner who was killed by the instructor's punch, the white-haired man's face was still very grim. He said in a sinister tone, "You really made me angry. You will soon realize how foolish it is to anger Lord Saito!"

The white-haired man then assumed an exaggerated stance, transformed into a whirlwind, and clawed the air, creating a series of afterimages as he fiercely attacked the instructor. The speed and strength he displayed were beyond human limits. I had never seen such fast movements that left afterimages in any human, including world-class athletes.

The instructor, however, was not creative. He simply punched straight ahead. This punch didn't look particularly fast and wasn't as flashy as the white-haired man's clawing, but it hit the white-haired man's claws precisely, sending him flying about nine meters away.

This time, the white-haired man couldn't control his momentum and was thrown into the crowd of onlookers.

A bald, muscular black man with skin that gleamed like honey was hit directly by the white-haired man. The black man couldn't withstand the force of the instructor's punch and was knocked over, rolling on the ground.

None of the people in the dark training camp were gentle and well-mannered. The black man quickly stood up, furious at being caught in the crossfire, and roared, "Get out of my way, you brat!"