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Under the sunset, Jack Clark carried a shoulder bag on his way home from school.
Vehicles passed by from time to time on the road, and speakers from clothing stores on the street blared out their clearance sales, tearfully offering half-off, while an airliner pierced into the clouds above.
These scenes of modern civilization always gave Jack Clark a sense of dissonance, feeling out of place with his True Martial Style cultivation.
Jack Clark couldn't help but sigh, "It really is a complex world."
Time also flew by so quickly, it was almost a month already, and recalling everything that had happened during this time, a faint smile appeared on Jack Clark's lips.
Compared to his previous life, where he clocked in and out at routine times and lived each day as it came, suffocated by mortgages and wedding expenses, Jack Clark preferred his current life.
Yet... a faint sense of sorrow appeared in Jack Clark's eyes.
But fortunately, he had an older brother, and the compensation for his accidental death was enough to provide for their retirement.
Lost in thought, Jack Clark suddenly stopped walking; there was a red traffic light ahead.
Around him were other people waiting for the traffic lights, including men and women out shopping, office workers on their way home for dinner, and some elderly people taking a stroll.
Standing amid the crowd, Jack Clark inexplicably felt they were so fragile.
It seemed that if he touched them just a little too hard, these ordinary people would be seriously injured—no, it wasn't just a feeling; he had indeed become very strong now.
So strong that he could kill an ordinary person with just one punch, and he had this illusion even though he had only entered the First Layer Heaven.
No wonder, the school and the government had established strict rules, demanding that cultivators not coerce or injure ordinary people with force, or else the punishment would be severe.
Compared with ordinary people, cultivators were essentially a different species.
Of course, along with the severe restrictions on cultivators, there were also some limitations involving ordinary people who initiated provocations and troubles.
But no matter how these laws and regulations restricted them, looking beneath the surface, Jack Clark acutely noticed that the Federation's power seemed terrifyingly strong.
You have to understand, this world has over two billion people, and the base number of cultivators has skyrocketed to well over a million in recent years.
In such circumstances, the government was still able to monitor the world, suppress all cultivators, and keep them from disturbing social stability despite their immense strength.
Even conflicts between martial arts halls were rarely heard, and the internet was harmonious, with scarcely any news of cultivator conflicts, but rather, it was mostly filled with gossip about ordinary cultivators.
It seemed as if there was an invisible hand deliberately blurring the boundaries between ordinary people and cultivators.
Making those ordinary people feel that although there are cultivators, and they are strong, they are not too different from ordinary people, so there's no need for excessive concern or panic.
These cultivators also wouldn't lord over ordinary people, everyone existed on an equal footing; these guiding messages were visible everywhere on the internet.
And to achieve this, the amount of power required would be terribly formidable? Thinking this, Jack Clark shivered inwardly.
Stay low-key, diligently practice cultivation, avoid provoking the authorities as much as possible unless he became overwhelmingly invincible. Jack Clark reminded himself silently.
However, speaking of which, he was actually one of the official's own, or rather, had a bit of a connection with the authorities.
Because the school was an extension of the government's power.
Lost in thought, Jack Clark returned home. From the kitchen, Glenn Clark poked his head out and called to him, "Bro, I bought the fish for you, it's cleaned and in the bowl."
"Okay," Jack Clark's face showed a faint smile.
Due to his cultivation reasons, he had been coming back late lately, and then Glenn Clark had taken on the responsibility of preparing dinner every day.
Naturally, Jack Clark would not refuse.
Kids should indeed do more work, otherwise what's the point of just playing soccer or basketball all day long?
Now that we have entered the cultivation era, those previous sports like basketball and soccer have ended, with few people interested in watching, lacking a future.
After all, compared to the strength of cultivators, basketball and soccer are just child's activities, and those sporting events had also nearly all died out.
Carrying a bowl of fish meat, Jack Clark went up to the second-floor room.
There, the Six-legged Salamander, now sixty-four centimeters long and as thick as an arm, lay lazily on a chair, with its tail hanging over the side and swaying slightly.
On either side of its flat, wide head, three pairs of five-centimeter long red horns stuck out like wings, pointing upwards, and its mouth slightly agape revealed two rows of freshly grown sharp teeth.
Together with the high bulges of muscles on its body and the sturdiness of its limbs and sharp claws, its appearance looked more formidable than that of a medium-sized lizard.
Bang!
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Jack Clark's consciousness sunk, and he controlled his Avatar to leap off the chair, landing with the dull thud of something heavy.
Despite the Six-legged Salamander being only a little over 60 centimeters, it already weighed more than ten kilograms, taking a few steps to reach the basin filled with fish meat and biting into a fish at once.
Its sharp teeth tore through the fish meat, swallowing it down in two or three bites, then moving on to another one, its manner of eating was ferocious.
The Avatar's digestive ability was even more terrifying.
Even though it now needed to eat about thirty kilograms of fish meat a day, it excreted very little waste. It was as if ninety-nine percent of the material was digested and converted into biological energy.
While controlling the Avatar's eating, Jack Clark's thoughts were also drifting.
"I wonder how much this Avatar Evolution will improve me."
Initially, when the Avatar was palm-sized, its evolution had instantly improved his overall attributes by nearly half.
Now, the Avatar's size was comparable to some medium-sized lizards, and its strength was terrifying. Given such circumstances, the Avatar Evolution should grant him an even greater improvement.
Whether he could close the gap with those geniuses or even surpass them would depend on this Avatar.
The next day, being Saturday, Jack Clark still went to school for cultivation.
When he arrived on the Third Floor, he found that another classmate had arrived even earlier.
"Good morning, Sawyer," Jack Clark greeted the classmate who was warming up.
Looking at Jack Clark, Sawyer Levin suddenly said, "Jack Clark, want to have a practice?"
To this suggestion, Jack Clark paused for a mere moment before nodding in agreement, "Okay."
This person was one of the Crystal Leinster Club's members, named Sawyer Levin, with an ordinary family background much like his own.
He was around 1.7 meters in height, a bit shorter than the current Jack Clark, with an average look and a reserved personality, but very hardworking in terms of cultivation.
However, his talent was slightly better than Jack's, achieving Foundation Establishment four days earlier, and he cultivated a method called Ghostly Phantom that specializes in speed and burst power.
In the Cultivation Area, Jack Clark and Sawyer Levin stood about ten meters apart.
Excitement gradually appeared on Sawyer Levin's face as he spoke in a deep voice, "Jack Clark, my Cultivation Method excels in speed and burst. Be careful."
"Come on." Jack Clark was unmoved.
Whoosh!
The moment the word dropped, Sawyer Levin burst out with astonishing speed, crossing ten meters to appear at Jack Clark's left side in the blink of an eye, his right leg sweeping out with a whoosh.
Thud!
Jack Clark raised his arm to block, intercepting Sawyer Levin's kick.
Upon impact between his arm and Sawyer Levin's calf, a dull thump was heard, and the force, which seemed to be a few hundred kilograms, made Jack Clark's body involuntarily take a step back.
Nearing three times the physical constitution of an ordinary person, coupled with the speed bonus of True Martial Style, Sawyer Levin's burst speed was almost double that of Jack Clark's.
And since speed equals strength, even though his absolute strength was not as great as Jack Clark's, each kick still unleashed a powerful force of over four hundred kilograms with the boost of speed.
And he was very agile.
Thump, thump, thump, thump!!
Circling Jack Clark, Sawyer Levin's legs created a series of afterimages, like a raging storm constantly launching attacks, momentarily putting Jack under pressure.
But it was just that, pressure. Jack Clark, who primarily practiced Dragon Elephant Power, was stronger. He remained still, his arms swinging to effortlessly block all the incoming attacks.
At the same time, his increasingly tough skin made his Defense soar, and even if he used his arms to block Sawyer Levin's leg strikes, he felt only some soreness.
Suddenly, Jack Clark roared, his voice like that of an elephant's bellow, the furious roar causing Sawyer Levin to stagger.
In that instant, seizing the opportunity, Jack Clark stepped forward and launched a punch with his right fist. His upper body muscles swelled like an enraged giant elephant, and he released a punch with his Furious Power.
Facing Jack Clark's cannonball-like charging punch, Sawyer Levin's expression shifted slightly, and with no time to dodge, he crossed his arms.
Boom!
Under the overbearing strength of the furious elephant's roar, Sawyer Levin was sent retreating six meters by Jack Clark's punch before stopping, leaving two clear traces from his shoes on the ground.