Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

"The core of police combat techniques lies in 'control' and 'disruption'."

Renn shouted under his breath as he fought.

"This is a 'chokehold and neck break'!"

He crossed his hands in the air, making a ruthless strangulation motion, as if he were holding the enemy by the neck and twisting it forcefully.

A sickening whistling sound filled the air.

"That's a 'crushing knee kick'!"

Without moving his lower body, Ryan's right leg lashed out like a scorpion's tail, delivering a powerful kick to the knee joint of the imaginary enemy in front of him.

That kick was fast, accurate, and powerful; if it had landed, the kneecap would have been shattered.

"This is a 'joint lock'!"

He turned his body, his hands like iron clamps, drawing a strange arc in the air.

The movements were fluid and graceful.

It primarily uses fists and palms, combined with body shape, footwork, and grappling techniques.

It's not complicated.

There are no fancy tumbling and jumping; every movement targets the most vulnerable parts of the human body: the throat, eyes, genitals, and joints.

This is a technology born purely for violence.

Xilun sat below, his eyes unblinking.

His pupils contracted slightly as he stared intently at every detail of Renn's movements.

On his retina, a pale red stream of data was pulsating wildly, trying to capture the trajectory of these movements.

After finishing his routine, Renn stood up.

His face wasn't flushed or out of breath, but a fine layer of sweat appeared on his forehead.

"Did you see it clearly?"

No one dared to speak.

"I know you didn't see it clearly."

Ryan sneered, "So I'll take it apart again."

Over the next hour, Ryan began to break down the fighting style into individual movements.

"Keep your wrists clenched, like an eagle's claw."

"You should generate power from your waist and abdomen, not just use the brute force of your arms."

"To break bones and tendons, one must unleash a burst of power at the moment of contact, generating a shockwave."

As he explained, Ryan moved among the students, occasionally using a cane to correct their posture.

Xilun stood in the crowd, awkwardly imitating.

The brain learned it, but the hands didn't.

I watched Renn play so smoothly and naturally, but when I tried it myself, I found that my hands and feet wouldn't obey my commands at all.

Either your footwork is too slow, or the angle of your punch is wrong.

"Snapped!"

The vine in Renn's hand struck Xilen's forearm, leaving a red mark.

"Elbows too high! Are you trying to expose your ribs for the enemy to stab?" Renn's stern rebuke rang in my ears.

Xilun remained expressionless, immediately adjusting his posture, lowering his shoulders and elbows.

The pain did not deter him; instead, it made him even more focused.

He repeated those few monotonous movements over and over again.

Straight punch, hook punch, grappling, knee strike.

Sweat soaked through his black training uniform, clinging tightly to his body.

As time went on, Celen felt his muscles begin to ache and his lungs felt like they were on fire.

The morning passed quickly.

When the wall clock struck twelve, Ryan called for a halt.

"Alright, that's all for this morning."

Ryan wiped the sweat from his hands. "We'll start sparring this afternoon. Now, go eat."

The trainees felt as if they had been granted a pardon, and they collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain.

Xilun stood still, slowly retracting his stance.

He looked at his slightly trembling hands, a reaction to extreme muscle fatigue.

"Silen, let's go eat."

Kanavi came over. The kid had been practicing all morning but hadn't sweated much, clearly slacking off.

"I heard the cafeteria has beef stew with potatoes today."

Xilun snapped out of his daze, nodded slightly, and followed them out.

......

The cafeteria was filled with the rich aroma of stewed meat and onions, and the sound of iron spoons clattering against plates echoed throughout.

Xilun, carrying his tray, found an empty seat by the window and sat down. On the tray was a large spoonful of bright red stewed meat, two pieces of soft yellow bread, and a bowl of vegetable soup with oil floating on top.

For him, who had been eating rye bread at the docks for years, this was nothing short of royal treatment.

"here."

Kanavi sat down opposite him with a plate in his hand, glanced around, and then pushed a heavy little cloth bag across the table.

The bag slid across the wooden tabletop with a dull thud and came to rest beside Xilun.

"Twelve silver shillings."

Kanavi lowered his voice, picked up a piece of bread and tore it open, "That mutated Gara Xuan Snake is of good quality, especially its gall bladder. The owner of the apothecary knows its stuff."

Siren pressed down on the bag without making a sound, his fingers feeling the cold, hard outline of the coins inside through the rough fabric.

"Thanks." Xilun tucked the money pouch into the pocket closest to his body, his heart beating a little faster.

With this money, plus the few pennies he had left, he wouldn't have to worry about filling his stomach for at least the next month.

He picked up the pale blue "basic secret medicine" bottle beside him, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.

The icy liquid slid down my throat into my stomach, and just a few seconds later, a familiar burning sensation exploded, flowing through my blood vessels to every part of my body.

The muscle soreness and bruises from the morning's martial arts practice subsided at an astonishing speed under the wash of this heat.

Xilun exhaled a breath of warm, medicinal-smelling air, clenched his fist, and the feeling of his strength returning made him squint his eyes slightly.

"This medicine is really effective," Xilun exclaimed. "If I could drink a few more bottles, my cultivation efficiency would at least double."

"Dream on."

Canavi took a sip of soup and scoffed, "This is a perk included in the club's tuition. If you were to buy it yourself, a bottle of this quality of 'Blue Blood No. 1' would cost at least three or four shillings on the black market. How could we apprentices who haven't even entered the ranks yet afford it?"

He paused, a hint of longing in his eyes.

"The real treasure is the Black Gold Merchant Guild's 'Deer Antler Ointment.' It's for truly extraordinary individuals; applied externally to exfoliate the skin, and taken internally to strengthen the flesh. When applied to the body, even if you're beaten with an iron rod, the skin won't turn red or swollen. Unfortunately, that small box weighs a pound and is only about the size of a fingernail."

A pound can only buy a tiny bit the size of a fingernail...

Siren silently chewed the beef in his mouth, memorizing the name.

"Money..." Kanavi sighed, dipping his bread into the broth on his plate. "Siren, when you have some spare cash in the future, I suggest you save it up and buy a 'Pepper Box'."

"Pepper box?" Xilun paused.

"It's a percussion smoothbore pistol." Kanavi gestured. "The simpler version on the black market, you can get it for five pounds. Although the accuracy is terrible, one shot at close range will make even a strong man who has practiced breathing techniques for years kneel down."

The image of the dark, heavy musket at the waist of the overseer Morgan flashed into Xiren's mind instantly.

"Even a Baptist, whose skin is as tough as copper, will still be torn apart if shot at close range." Kanavi lowered his voice, "Unless it's a second-tier 'Ripper,' like a strongman like Teacher Rein, whose muscles can stop bullets, firearms are still the best way for people like us at the bottom to save our lives."

Xilun nodded without saying a word, and then devoured all the food on his plate.