Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 180 Resting in Peace, Sparring Among Fellow Disciples

After washing up, Xilun changed into a soft and comfortable set of pajamas and lay down in a guest room at the end of the second-floor corridor.

The room was large and elegantly furnished without being extravagant. The mattress was so soft that it felt like you could sink right into it.

The rain gradually stopped, and the night wind dispersed the heavy clouds.

Xilun turned his head and looked out through the large floor-to-ceiling window at the deep, clear night sky, with a few bright stars twinkling through the gaps in the clouds.

He gazed at the stars, lost in thought.

"It's so comfortable lying down," Xilun thought to himself.

Since entering the world of extraordinary beings, he has been living in an atmosphere of rigorous training almost every day, in a living environment that is not worth mentioning.

The narrow, hard single bed at the Golden Rooster Hotel accompanied him through countless exhausting nights.

At this moment, this long-lost tranquility gave him a feeling of unreality.

Lord Lund values ​​him highly, even going so far as to confront a behemoth like the Ocelli family head-on for his sake.

This favor was too heavy a burden, so heavy that it made Xilun more demanding of himself.

If, four months later, you perform poorly in the junior knight fighting competition and are eliminated early, it will not only be a disgrace to yourself, but also a disgrace to the club and your coach.

Thinking of this, Xilun's previously relaxed nerves tensed up again. He stared thoughtfully at the starry sky outside the window.

That Ross, he's also going to participate in the junior knight fighting tournament, right?

Xiren had heard that Ross had participated in the event a couple of years ago and apparently came in second or third place.

This time, due to age and time constraints related to baptism, it was his last chance to participate.

Given the Ocelli family's heritage and Ross's arrogant nature, he must have come with the goal of winning the fight championship.

Siren began to recall information about the junior knight fighting tournament.

This competition is far superior to small local tournaments like the Pioneer Cup; it is the most prestigious arena for young extraordinary individuals in the entire Southern Continent colony.

Performance in the competition directly affects the support of major noble forces, subsequent development paths in the military or church, and the coveted prizes.

To put it simply, the most obvious prize is that if you win the championship, you can directly receive a bottle of "Rebirth Potion".

This is no ordinary recovery potion, but a precious magical potion that can be used by a first-order baptist for a second baptism.

It can tear apart the existing muscle fibers of extraordinary individuals at the genetic level and then reassemble them in a more terrifying and intricate way, thereby helping the baptized individual break through the shackles of the physical body and step into the level of a second-tier extraordinary individual, also known as a "ripper".

Xilun let out a long breath, his chest rising and falling slightly.

He ultimately wanted to win; the regeneration potion was too tempting for him.

He needs power, the power to control his own destiny and no longer be trampled underfoot like a stray dog.

However, defeating Rose will be quite difficult.

Xiren was very clear-headed. He knew his own strength, and he might not even be able to beat Marshall in the Vanguard Cup.

The reason I was able to beat Marshall this time was because unarmed combat is a small competition with limited space in the ring, and I took advantage of my opponent's underestimation of me and his irritability.

Seizing the fleeting opportunity, he unleashed power beyond his limits through the "breathing" technique, blasting his opponent off the stage and thus narrowly winning.

If it were a life-or-death battle, or if there were no restrictions on the edge of the ring, he would definitely be the one to die.

Ross, on the other hand, is an extraordinary individual who has reached the pinnacle of his abilities.

The so-called ultimate realm is the level of a first-order baptist, where one's physique, strength, and nerve reaction speed have reached their peak and there is no room for further advancement.

Their breathing techniques were already perfect, and their internal energy was constantly replenished. They were truly just one step away from becoming second-tier Rippers.

Tonight in the manor hall, Ross's sneak attack with a whip kick made Xiren deeply understand what the oppressive feeling of the extreme realm is.

The cohesion and explosiveness of that power far surpassed that of Marshall's brute bear, which only knew how to use brute force.

"Four months—" Xilun murmured to himself.

In four months, he must increase his energy capacity and hone his martial arts skills to the extreme.

Xilun lay down on the bed, forcing himself to close his eyes and stop thinking about anything else. He let the cool sensation of the blood healing powder spread across his arms and gradually fell asleep.

The next day, he woke up yawning.

The sky was still dimly lit, and the room was filled with the damp mist unique to the early morning.

I glanced at the clock on the wall; it was six o'clock.

He slept for a full six hours. For Siren, who always maintained a high level of vigilance, this was an extremely rare deep sleep.

I feel pretty good, full of energy, and the bruises on my arms have mostly faded.

He got up barefoot and stepped onto the soft carpet.

A cool breeze blew in through the half-open window, dispelling any lingering sleepiness.

Looking out the window, the manor's back garden comes into view.

A middle-aged man in coarse work clothes was pushing a heavy machine, meticulously trimming the lawn.

Clippings of grass danced in the air with the morning dew, releasing a fresh, grassy scent.

A large dog was lying on the lawn not far away.

Xilun's gaze was instantly drawn to the dog, his eyes becoming thoughtful, even taking on a hint of instinctive sharpness.

The dog looked to be over a meter tall, covered in long black and white fur, with the outlines of muscles faintly visible beneath the fur.

It lay there taking up a large area and weighed at least 100 kilograms.

Its breathing was long and heavy, and with each exhale it would spray a cloud of white mist into the cold morning air.

"This is definitely a mutant." Xiren stared at the dog, silently assessing its combat strength.

This physique and the fluctuations in its blood and energy are definitely not those of an ordinary dog.

Xilun looked at the dog and was actually a little envious.

He subconsciously licked his lips, and his right hand, with its five fingers slightly bent, assumed a claw-like starting stance.

If I could find an opportunity to kill this alien species and absorb its extraordinary characteristics, I might even be able to acquire a useful talent skill similar to "Far-Eared Listening".

Seemingly sensing the undisguised, palpable killing intent emanating from the second-floor window, the large dog suddenly opened its eyes as if anticipating something.

Its nose was itchy, and it quickly scrambled up from the lawn, its movements so agile as to be completely disproportionate to its enormous size.

The big dog raised its head, its dark yellow eyes, which held a hint of human-like wariness, glancing at Xilun.

Then, it shook its head vigorously and swayed its broad shoulders, as if trying to dispel the chill of being targeted by its predator. Then, it took four strong legs and ran to a large tree further away from the window, where it lay down again.

Xilun withdrew his gaze and chuckled to himself.

I've really gone mad. Killing the mutants my mentor raised in his manor is the act of a madman.

After washing up, Xilun went down the stairs to the first floor.

The housekeeper has prepared a sumptuous breakfast.

Xilun, carrying a cup of hot milk, walked to the porch and looked out at the magnificent garden. The lawn, smooth as a green carpet, shimmered with dewdrops in the morning light.

"It's so beautiful, the air is so fresh."

"I can't believe it," Siron exclaimed sincerely. Having crawled out of the slums, filled with stench and sewage, the sight before him was like heaven to him.

The butler was instructing the gardener to clean up the trimmed edges when he heard Xilun's words. He turned around and smiled, "Of course, this was specially ordered to be carefully tended so that Your Excellency would have a good mood when you wake up in the morning."

Suddenly intrigued, Xilun pointed to the vast green space outside and asked, "How much would a lawn like this cost?"

After a moment's thought, the butler casually rattled off a series of figures: "The seeds for the lawn itself aren't expensive; you can easily acquire a plot for 150 pounds."

However, the real challenge lies in the subsequent maintenance.

It needs to be pruned regularly every day to maintain a uniform height; it also needs to be watered and fertilized regularly with special fertilizer to prevent pests.

This requires hiring two experienced professional gardeners, as well as the corresponding machinery and equipment.

All things considered, my monthly expenses are around 10 pounds.

Upon hearing this number, Xilun paused slightly in the hand holding the milk.

After thinking about it, he secretly shook his head and thought to himself, "Never mind."

Just to wake up in a good mood and see a green lawn, I'm willing to spend 10 pounds a month.

It's important to know that in the Lower East Side, an average working-class family might not be able to save 10 pounds even after a year of hard work.

The lives of the rich are too extravagant.

The gap between classes is not only reflected in the strength of extraordinary power, but also in the wanton squandering of resources.

Xilun drank the milk in his glass in one gulp, thanked the butler for his hospitality, and then left the manor.

He did not indulge in this comfort, but went straight back to the Golden Rooster Hotel.

After eating his simple rye bread breakfast, Xilun immediately began his daily morning exercise in the open space of Room 106.

Sweat quickly soaked through his clothes, and the Great Ocean Whale Guidance Technique emitted a deep rumble within his body.

Two days later is the time agreed upon by Lord Yuri, so I guess I'll have to go to the ocean pier.

Finn was in an extremely dangerous situation; being a harpooner was a profession with a very high chance of survival.

He must seize every moment to solidify his martial arts training. Only by becoming strong enough can he protect himself and his friends in the upcoming turmoil.

The midday sun pierced through the thin mist that perpetually shrouded Saint Laurent City, casting its light on the greyish-white exterior walls of the Iron Cross Fight Club.

The top floor of the club is a private area reserved for Lund and his close disciples to rest and practice.

The entire floor was opened up, creating an extremely spacious indoor martial arts arena.

The floor is paved with highly elastic cork imported from overseas, and the surrounding walls are inlaid with reinforced lead plates and soundproofing materials, which are sufficient to withstand the violent energy impact of first-tier extraordinary beings.

"Bang!"

A dull thud of muscles colliding echoed in the empty room, the shockwave kicking up a bit of dust from the floor.

The two collided violently like mad beasts, and then quickly separated due to the huge reaction force, each sliding backward several meters.

The next moment, the young man raised his head, his eyes sharp as knives.

He was none other than Xiren, who was wearing a black training suit.

At this moment, his muscles were taut, and faint black dragon patterns appeared on his skin. Sweat slid down his resolute facial features and dripped onto the cork floor.

Opposite him was a dark-skinned, burly man.

The man looked to be around 300cm tall, with a neat head of short hair. The muscles in his arms bulged out like rocks, exuding explosive power.

He was Lund's fourth disciple, Yus.

Without any unnecessary words, the two shifted their feet and charged at each other again, exchanging blows with their fists and feet.

Amidst the afterimages, the wind howled with each punch, each strike accompanied by a surge of energy and blood, producing a sickeningly sharp sound.

In the lounge area by the window, Lund slumped lazily in a large leather sofa, holding a glass of strong liquor with ice in his hand.

He yawned, seemingly uninterested in the intense battle unfolding on the field, only occasionally glancing up at it.

Standing next to him was a young man.

The man had fair skin, wore elegant black-rimmed glasses, and a well-tailored casual suit. He looked more like a university scholar than a Fight Club member.

He was another senior brother of Xilun, Aigu.

Aigu, hands in his pockets, smiled gently as he looked at the arena. Turning to Lund, he said, "Teacher, aren't you going to take a closer look at the strength of this new disciple? This is his first formal encounter with Yus."

Lund took a sip of his drink, the ice clinking crisply in the glass. He said casually, "I know him better than you do. I saw right through this kid at the Vanguard Cup."

Aigu pushed up his glasses, a thoughtful glint flashing behind the lenses. He stared at Yus's storm-like attacks and said, "Yus has been baptized for one year and seven months. He has mastered the 'Exploding Rock Fist' and his strength is also very formidable."

Teacher, do you think that Siren, a newcomer who was baptized less than two months ago, can beat Yus?

Lund exhaled a long breath reeking of alcohol and uttered two words with certainty: "Okay."

The moment the words were spoken, the situation on the field suddenly changed.

Yus delivered a powerful right hook that whistled through the air as it struck Xilen's temple.

If that punch landed, it would be enough to shatter the skull of a bull.

However, Xilun advanced instead of retreating. A cold glint flashed in his eyes, and he used a footwork technique that was not yet fully developed but was agile enough. His body lowered at an extremely strange angle, narrowly avoiding the fatal blow.

At the same time, Xilun's right fist, like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, completed its power accumulation in a very short distance, carrying a trace of dark golden blood energy, and fiercely struck the most vulnerable part of Yus's abdomen, his liver.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

Xiren quickly retracted his fist, leaped back two steps, and maintained a defensive stance.

Yus was a head taller and much larger than him, but his face turned deathly pale, even turning an eerie bluish-gray.

His tall frame suddenly stiffened, his eyes widened, and then he clutched his stomach in pain, curling up like a boiled shrimp and collapsing to his knees, gasping for breath, unable to utter a complete sentence.

Xilun moved his right hand, which was slightly numb from the recoil, and turned to look at Lund on the sofa.

Seeing that Lund only nodded slightly, he immediately walked over, reached out and helped the dark-skinned man, who was in great pain, to his feet.

Fortune