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A brief silence fell over the training ground!
The boy in front of him did not collapse as expected; instead, he blocked his punch, which had increased in strength.
His cheek twitched, and Wen Zheming's face became even more sinister!
Fine! Then let's try another move. Without more hesitation or giving Mu Fan more time to react, Wen Zheming stamped his left leg on the ground, his right foot swinging up into the air. He turned his fists into legs! Just before, a burly guy had been knocked out cold by this very move.
Trash!
Wen Zheming wanted to vent all his recent anger.
This time, Mu Fan raised his left arm, elbow bent, to meet the powerful wind-chopped kick, his right hand nestled between his shoulder and the back of his hand, and his figure sunk low.
Hmph! After a brief pause, Wen Zheming resumed his stance, using a double buffer to withstand the powerful impact.
Wen Zheming stepped back and stood, looking at the skinny boy in front of him, and softly uttered, "Trash, you don't even have the courage to fight back."
Mu Fan's slightly lowered eyes did not even flicker; nobody could see the deep red flash that momentarily appeared in his eyes, as sharp and cold as a blade.
Suddenly, the smiling Mu Fan, who was holding up the boxing mitts, laughed, a light chuckle that made Wen Zheming's face darken.
"Since that's the case, shall I strike, then?"
Hearing the lightness in his tone, Wen Zheming said nothing, leaping into the air, a more ferocious whip kick fiercely swung at Mu Fan!
Mu Fan lowered his eyelids, his whole body taking the form of a charging bull as he met the blow head-on, swinging the boxing mitts around more fiercely and violently!
Bang!
Wen Zheming's kick slammed the boxing mitts, but this time he felt not a passive resistance like before, but a ferocious smash with a wild momentum.
Huh?
Realizing something was off, Wen Zheming prepared to retract his leg and kick again.
At this moment, Mu Fan's fist recoiled at an even faster speed and then smashed out with a powerful punch!
"Young Master Wen, I've made my move. If you can't handle it, remember to say something."
Like a barrel of gunpowder ignited, Mu Fan exploded instantly!
...
In the end, the secret couldn't be kept. Chanison secretly sent Jeff away, but once one person found out and spilled the beans, the story spread like wildfire.
No matter how big the Martial Arts Hall was, it was still limited. Today, at training ground number five, conversations of varying sizes popped up among those training, occasionally bursting out with a word or two.
"You came early today. Did you see Jeff?"
"Funny you should mention that. You know about it too?"
"Shh, who doesn't know? Does Chanison think he can keep it a secret?"
"Jeff was already in bad shape yesterday. Today, tsk tsk…"
"Stop gloating. Didn't everyone in this line of work think about this day when they started?" one person retorted.
Someone next to him quickly agreed, "Big David, your bulk is light years away from Jeff's. Stop talking nonsense. You'd be carried out in twenty minutes, if not dead inside."
The person talking nonsense raised his eyebrows, about to lose his temper.
"Shh, stop arguing. Look, Charney is coming down."
"Shh…"
Someone with sharp eyes saw Chanison, a middle-level manager in the Martial Arts Hall, coming over with a sullen face, hands behind his back. Upon seeing this, everyone immediately quieted down and began to practice hard.
"A bunch of slackers! If you don't want to work here, get out! It doesn't matter if there's one less of you here! If I catch anyone gossiping again, everyone will be out!" Chanison, with red eyes, shouted furiously from the edge of the field.
Chanison was in a foul mood.
No one responded; who dared to get on this bad side now? As long as you didn't mess up too much, the income from this job was decent.
Nobody wanted to end up with a disability pay, and even fewer wanted to be kicked out.
Since Mu Fan left, Chanison had been uneasy; anxiety and worry nearly filled his chest. The delicious cigar was extinguished after only a few puffs.
He was losing his composure. When had the rich kid from the primary district ever come to District 22? Not once, right? This was an opportunity for him; if he could seize it, he could escape. If not, not only would he fail to escape, it might even be difficult for him to stand.
Wen Zheming's capricious, vengeful nature—who wasn't scared of that?
Thinking of it made him extremely restless, and as he descended the stairs, he saw these folks, ever fearful of chaos, gathered in groups, whispering nervously. Even a fool could figure out what they were talking about.
"If I catch anyone gossiping again, you're out, immediately!" The short-statured Chanison made everyone fall silent as a group with his furious expression, then he turned back to the floating stairs, still fuming.
A second, two seconds, three seconds…
Suddenly, like a breached dam, everyone burst into uncontrollable laughter all at once.
"Did you see Charney's face? It looked like wrinkled orange peel. I'm dying of laughter, hahaha!"
"Who's he trying to scare? Only the new kids fall for that."
"Oh, by the way, Big Stomach King, Ten Box Guy, why isn't the daring kid around?" Suddenly, someone asked, referring to Mu Fan, known for his large appetite and nearly sparking a conflict yesterday. In the two days he'd been here, each incident he caused was bigger than the last—it was impossible not to notice.
"Oh right, I think I saw him go to the third floor."
"Wasn't he there yesterday?"
"No, he went up and came back down, then went back up… Could it be…"
"Could it be he went there!" a group of sparring partners said in unison.
Everyone was stunned, and then the surrounding sounds merged into two words—
"Holy shit!"
...
In room number one on the already isolated third floor, there were two shadows engaged in a wild collision!
Mu Fan was now completely enraged!
Didn't you tell me to fight back? Well, let's fight!
The two arms raised in front of him were like two haunting iron pillars in Wen Zheming's eyes, appearing wherever he hit, then delivering another wild and accurate punch.
Now, his hands and feet throbbed with pain; the kid's arms were like fine steel.
Go to hell! Wen Zheming's approach was no longer that of a sparring partner but rather a move meant to kill.
Sweep kick! After a hook punch rush, Mu Fan's boxing mitt blocked their view; a great opportunity. Wen Zheming squatted with a sweeping leg, unleashing a force powerful enough to break a wooden post.
Mu Fan's eyes flickered, and a strange smile appeared on his lips.
His right leg straightened, twisted, and used the thigh to counter, a giant dragon's battle flag piercing down into the earth!
Huh? Was this kid not retaliating?
Then I'll kick you to death! Wen Zheming swept fiercely.
Hmph!!
Passively enduring Wen Zheming's strike, which exceeded 14 levels of force, Mu Fan didn't even blink; his right leg retracted slightly and then snapped out fiercely!
Wen Zheming didn't notice this detail; he only felt as though he'd run into a wall as he advanced at high speed, then was forcibly stopped by huge inertia.
Crack, Wen Zheming's leg was blocked by Mu Fan's vajra-like right leg, and, driven by residual momentum, his upper body flung awkwardly, forcing him into a single-arm support on the ground.
Wheezing heavily, Wen Zheming stood up, sweat shattering in the air, soaking the ground, yet his face carried an unhideable humiliation.
"Kid, do I need you to hold back?"
Mu Fan grinned and replied, "Young Master Wen, if I had kicked back just now, your foot would've been broken."
Wen Zheming froze, and then his face twisted.
With a frenzied look in his eyes, his aura rose instantly. Wen Zheming took a deep breath, stepped back with a small jump, and positioned his hands in an odd stance, aura surging!
What was this?
Mu Fan suddenly felt an increasing sense of danger from Young Master Wen across from him.
Wen Zheming didn't give him time to think. With just a gentle pose, in the blink of an eye, it was as if rubber stretched to its limit, producing a massive rebound!
Holding his form tight, then striking out, Wen Zheming's right fist rocketed forth like a triggered cannonball with instantaneous force! No hesitation,
Big Progress Cannon Fist! What a precisely executed B+ level fighting move!
With the shoulder leading the arm, Wen Zheming's upper body muscles exploded within half a second of twisting, feeling his muscles tear, yet Wen Zheming was like a mad tiger, paying no mind—I'll punch right through you!
Huh… ah! Ah!
His instantaneous punching power, naturally over 2500 KG!! Within the nearly 50% force boost of the Big Progress Cannon Fist, the flash of an instant surpassed level 17 power's cannonball punch straight on target!
With great danger approaching, Mu Fan's eyes turned red instantly!
Ah!
Blood flowed beneath his eyes, his arm muscles suddenly entering the compression state felt inside the Gravity Room.
All veins bulging, Mu Fan inhaled deeply, his gaze fierce, his motion seamlessly as smooth as flowing water,
Right arm tightened, left hand suddenly locked the right arm in place, twisted, body leaning forward, left leg half-kneeled, right leg slant supporting behind, his entire form like a barbaric bull charging with horns upward, right elbow swung up then swiftly halted in midair! Waist force unleashed, entire body strength converging at a point.
Elbow bracing, forearm down, forming a perfect vertical line in midair!
Half Arm Guard!
Mu Fan didn't know his subconscious action had performed one of the Federation's approved B-level moves, nor did he know his inward act of elbow thrusting could be called an Elbow Strike! A B+ level defense counteraction.
All these moves had one prerequisite—beyond an instantaneous punch of level 18, required muscle endurance of level 18 or above!!
These…
Mu Fan met them all!!
—Level 18 physique!!
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