The Skin Tempering Realm of the Earthquake Fist was straightforward in its practice, basically requiring only one thing: to continually excite the body's blood energy to circulate using the fist.
How was one supposed to use their fists? By striking the toughest object they could find head-on!
Dalvin couldn't help but look at the pockmarked wall of his cell which seemed as if someone with superhuman strength had struck them over and over with a contemplative look. It was clear that the previous denizen of this cell, or one of the previous denizens at least, had practiced this same technique.
This wasn't surprising, as the Earthquake Fist was the most common floor martial art out there; even the beggars on the street had access to it and could practice it.
What made Dalvin pensive was the important question of where did the person who practiced the technique go? His cell was the only one without a skeleton within, something he had noticed from the very first simulation's exploration details.
Did the person escape the cell? If so, did they manage to find a way out or did they suffer a fate similar to his simulated selves, perishing at any of the checkpoints around?
Dalvin put these questions aside and flexed his body once more. Feeling the increased strength, his confidence and self-esteem skyrocketed greatly, but he craved even more. After tasting the first dose of power, he was completely enslaved to the pursuit of power and breakthroughs.
Dalvin did not have much of a goal in life prior to this. Maybe become a world-renowned artist with millions of followers? Maybe become rich and fulfill all the dreams of his parents as well as his siblings?
Those had now taken the backseat to the new goal that sprouted in his heart and blossomed into a giant tree that towered over every single aspiration he had, and that was to become stronger!
Not for long life, not to feel secure, not to do what he wanted in life nor to protect the ones he loved, but simply because he liked it!
As such, he directly moved towards a part of the wall that was relatively solid and began striking it with his full force. The moment the flesh of his flesh struck the cobblestone-like wall, Dalvin's face changed greatly.
His bones did not break due to his power-up, but that did not mean he did not feel any pain. He immediately took his fist back and rubbed it, his teeth clenched tightly as he resisted the urge to howl in agony.
Dalvin's burning enthusiasm quickly cooled as he realized the folly of his thinking. Of course, the pursuit of power appealed to everyone, for many reasons; no one necessarily wanted to be weak.
But the acquisition of power required sacrifice of some sort, be it time, pain, or something else. Thinking about it, it was not impossible to acquire power in reality, one had to undergo a powerful training regimen to get there.
However, the tradeoff was a great amount of pain and suffering to get there. If Dalvin had not been willing to undergo that pain for that power, what made him think acquiring superhuman power would be any easier or simpler?
Dalvin checked his character screen, and his face darkened when he saw that neither his stats nor his blood qi had increased. However, he had honestly expected this somewhat because the Earthquake Fist manual was pretty clear about it from the get-go, to activate the blood qi to temper his skin, he would need to enter a rhythm of punching something hard at full force.
He had given up after one measly punch, how could he progress? Until he developed the willpower to continue punching despite the pain, he was definitely not going to make any progress whatsoever.
This obstacle was like a giant wall for the current Dalvin. To expect the him who had grown up in our society to undergo such a brutal regimen so suddenly was a joke. Even with the threat of death on them, not everyone could manage such a thing, much less with an indirect danger to his life.
Right away, the part of human consciousness that everyone hated and feared sprung up, what we called the inner demon. It began whispering to Dalvin that why did he have to suffer like this?
He was a special person with the Spacetime Immortal Physique and he had even achieved such great superhuman power at the moment. Rather than make himself uncomfortable, why not rest and relax, waiting for the 24-hour period to elapse and then return to earth?
He could buy pain-dulling medicine or painkillers so that he could practice later without being made to suffer. Right, all he should do right now is sit down and laze about until the timer elapsed…
The more Dalvin rubbed his bruised fist, the louder these whisperers became without actually increasing their volume in his mind, only their influence and intensity. In the end, he had already justified to himself why 'chickening out' was perfectly reasonable and fair.
He wasn't some hulk nor was he superman, why should he go through all of that for power? Besides, he could also rely on the xueqi pills, but he wanted to get the painkiller first so that he wouldn't have to suffer.
Dalvin soon found himself placing his back against the wall once more, sliding down to the ground as he sat. His eyes became slightly unfocused as he was contemplating what to do next as well as beginning to become lost in a trance to pass the time.
Even as he sat like this, he could see the walls around him full of holes from the other practitioner, and Dalvin could almost see the silhouette of a humanoid being that had a shape that was neither male nor female punching the walls resolutely, not stopping despite the great pain.
To dent the walls in this far, one or two punches could not do it. One would need to repeat this for days upon weeks, punching the same spot until it dug in. After all, denizens of this world did not have a system panel that afforded easy breakthrough; they had to devote time and sweat into their practice to advance.
It was inevitable that the figure's knuckles would be in terrible shape, probably bloody and scarred all over, with their fingers even shaped slightly weirdly, more bent than usual, even when fully extended by the person in question.
And yet, despite this… despite this…!
The figure did not stop, only moving to another spot to create a new hole after the old one was too deep to punish effectively, becoming less flat and even. In Dalvin's strange trance-like state, he saw the silhouette about to begin punching the new hole when it paused and slowly turned to him.
It stood over him, looking down on him like a superior to an inferior being. It did not have eyes nor a mouth, but Dalvin could almost see a sneer on its face, as if mocking him for his weakness of character and discipline.
This small hurdle was one he could not overcome? Some mere physical pain? Then what about when he experienced the mental pain of fighting heart demons during breakthroughs? What about when enduring lightning tribulations?
What about the agony of shattering the condensed Golden Core to create the Nascent Soul?
What would he do then?