Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Xilun nodded, without any particular reaction.

Robert mastered the sense of Qi very early on. As a direct descendant of a baron family, he was raised with the best food and drink and had all sorts of resources. His strength was beyond question.

Four wins out of four is not surprising.

But he still asked one more question.

"Someone got their arm broken? That serious?"

Fester approached at some point, lowering his voice.

"It's not that simple."

He glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to them.

"The most serious one was Professor Koster's student."

Xilun looked up.

Fester held up one finger.

"She was only sixteen years old when Robert beat her into paralysis."

Xilun frowned.

"Professor Koster was furious and almost lost his temper on the spot." Fester shook his head.

"That ruthless?"

"It's really hard to stop when you're evenly matched with an opponent," Fester said, shrugging. "But I've heard that guy has a lot of potential and might compete with Robert for some opportunities in the future."

He paused, then lowered his voice even further.

"Perhaps it was a deliberate act of cruelty."

Xiren stared at Fester for two seconds.

Fester immediately waved his hand.

"I was just saying it offhand, don't tell anyone."

"know."

Xilun didn't ask any more questions, returned to his seat, and began his daily stretching and warm-up routine.

Around half past noon, the door to the training room was pushed open.

Robert walked in.

He wore a well-tailored dark long gown, his leather boots were polished to a shine, his chin was slightly raised, and his expression carried an undisguised arrogance.

The murmurs among the crowd immediately subsided.

Robert glanced around the training room, walked straight to the chair at the head of the table, and sat down calmly.

He didn't greet anyone.

A moment later, Ryan pushed open the door and entered.

His gaze swept across the room, lingering on Robert for a moment before he nodded slightly.

"Robert played exceptionally well last night."

Raine's voice wasn't loud, but the training room was so quiet you could hear the wind outside the window.

"He has gained the favor of a knight."

Low gasps rose from the crowd.

The favor of a knight—that means resources, connections, and a ladder to climb.

"The others must also continue to work hard and practice diligently."

Renn glanced indifferently at the crowd.

"Perhaps you can do it too."

After saying that, Renn didn't linger and turned to leave the training room.

The moment the door closed, the suppressed murmurs erupted again.

Robert sat in the chair, nodded slightly, and looked calm.

Xilun didn't look at him and silently went to the corner.

He turned around, facing the wooden stake, regulated his breathing, and threw his first punch of the day.

The dull thud was drowned out by the noise.

The deep red progress bar deep within the retina is slowly crawling forward.

Slow and steady.

......

Week 8.

boom!

Fester's fist struck Celen's forearm, bone against bone, with a dull thud.

Xilun slipped and took a half step back.

Not many people in the training room were paying attention to this side; everyone was practicing on their own. Occasionally, someone would glance at the two guys who were fighting fiercely in the corner.

After Robert made a name for himself, he stopped coming. It is said that he was out hanging out with the knight who had a crush on him, and only showed up at the club every now and then.

The training room returned to its usual tranquility.

Familiar faces, familiar smell of sweat, familiar wooden stakes being beaten with loud thuds.

The only change that caught Xilun's attention was Fester.

This guy really became a disciple of the Silver Lance Knight Aldous.

Police combat techniques, expert level.

The power of "Bone-Crushing Fist" hasn't quite reached the threshold yet, but the stance already has a fierce edge.

It's no longer the punching bag it used to be.

Xiren pulled back his fist, and Fester rushed at him, throwing a straight punch at his jaw at a tricky angle.

Xilun tilted his head to avoid it, blocked with his right arm, and then thrust his knee in.

Feist twisted his waist and took the hit head-on, using the force to bounce away and create distance again.

Neither of them spoke. They looked at each other for a moment, panting heavily, and then charged forward at the same time.

Fists and kicks clashed, forearms met forearms, and knees collided.

Fester's approach to police combat is different from before.

His punches are more compact, his defense is more sophisticated, and his ability to deflect force at the moment of contact is much more skillful than before.

Xilun's two punches failed to penetrate his defense.

boom!

With the final punch, both men simultaneously withdrew their hands and stepped back.

Fester was hunched over, his hands on his knees, his chest heaving violently.

Xilun was also panting.

He glanced down at the deep red data stream in the corner of his retina.

The progress bar for police combat techniques has moved forward a little.

Fester has become stronger.

After becoming Aldous's apprentice, this guy's progress was much faster than before.

The two were no longer one-sidedly dominating each other, but rather engaging in a true back-and-forth exchange.

Xilun even felt a little pressure starting to beat him.

Just a little bit.

"Hold."

Fester straightened up, wiped the sweat from his face, and grinned.

"Did you notice? When I dove down and then threw a punch, I almost grazed your chin."

"Even if you manage to get close, it won't help."

Xilun flexed his wrists.

Fester wasn't annoyed. He chuckled and wiped his neck with a towel. After laughing, he suddenly lowered his voice and leaned closer.

"I have something to tell you."

"explain."

"The knight will teach me an extraordinary skill."

Xilun unscrewed the water bottle, took a sip, and didn't reply.

Fester gestured with both hands.

"It can transform energy into a layer of silvery substance that wraps around the body like a gauze garment. The knight called it the 'Silver Armor Gauze Garment'."

His eyes lit up when he said this, as if he had found money.

Xilun put down the kettle.

"Go if you want."

Fester was taken aback.

"You're not interested?"

"I don't have time."

Xilun wiped his hands with a towel.

"I'm still a little short of becoming an expert in Iron Wall Breathing. I don't want to touch anything else until I've mastered it."

Fester opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately swallowed it back.

He knows Xilun too well.

Once this person sets their mind on something, they'll stick to it relentlessly, and no amount of persuasion will change their mind.

Xilun leaned against the wall, watching the trainees sweating in twos and threes in the training room.

Fester is making progress, and he's not idle either.

During this period, the first thing I did every morning after waking up was to take out that jar of "earth dragon's blood," scoop out a fingernail-sized amount, and spread it evenly on the skin of my chest and arms.

The plaster was dark red in color and had a pungent, fishy smell. When applied to the body, it felt like a layer of coolness.

But once you start practicing, that coolness will turn into a continuous warmth, seeping into your skin and drilling into your bones along the muscle fibers.

It's not an illusion.

Every time I practice breathing techniques, the warmth mixes with my energy, as if someone is giving me a push from behind.

The progress bar will occasionally jump slightly, increasing by a fraction of a second.

Little by little, the time saved adds up to a considerable amount.

He roughly calculated that it could shorten the promotion cycle by about one-fifth.

"In another two to three weeks, I will be able to reach the expert level in the Iron Wall Breathing Method."

Xilun mentally calculated the number and confirmed it.

At that time, your physical condition will undergo a qualitative change, and you will be just one step away from the threshold of baptism.

After wiping his sweat, Fester sat back down and suddenly asked an unrelated question.

"Are you going to renew your tutor Ryan's course?"

Xilun glanced at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it," Fester said, counting on his fingers. "Before, you bought a course for ten pounds for two months, practicing breathing techniques and martial arts every day, and you also got a dose of secret medicine. But now you've learned the breathing techniques and martial arts, and you don't need anyone to teach you the basics. You just go to get that dose of secret medicine every day, which is equivalent to spending ten pounds to buy two months' worth of secret medicine."

Xilun didn't say anything.

He did think about that question.

Ten pounds for two months of the secret medicine isn't cheap when you calculate the unit price; it's even a bit of a loss.

"But you're a contracted fighter now."

Fester held up five fingers.

"Renewal courses are on sale for only five pounds."

Xilun paused for a moment.

Five pounds?

"Yes, contracted fighters enjoy internal discounts; Ryan's courses are five pounds for two months."

Feist lowered his voice.

"Moreover, once you purchase the course, it's not as simple as just receiving the secret medicine every day. Instructor Renn will assess your current progress to determine what you're best suited to learn and then impart new skills to you."

He paused, staring at Xiren.

"You've already reached the expert level in combat, and your breathing techniques will be soon too. Instructor Ryan will likely teach you something new, a new combat technique, or something else entirely."