Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 86 Claw Technique Mastered, Bandits Cause Chaos

Xilun stood up and glanced across the other side.

Two people from Group Four had already stood in the center of the court; one was burly, and the other was Kyrie Irving.

The burly one was clearly weaker than Irving.

After looking at it for two seconds, Xilun said, "Irving, I choose him."

Owen's expression changed. What did that mean? Did Xilun think he was an easy target?

There was a moment of silence on the field.

According to the rules, when a lower-ranked player challenges a higher-ranked player, they can specify their opponent, which is perfectly acceptable.

The problem is, that burly guy was obviously easier to beat—Sirlen ignored the easy target and chose to pick on Irving instead.

Irving's temple throbbed.

He gritted his teeth, walked from the opposite side to the center of the field, and stood still.

"You're getting a bit arrogant."

He felt that Xilun deliberately chose him, who was stronger, because he was confident of winning and didn't take him seriously at all.

Xilun was taken aback.

His thought was that since they were both taught by Coach Ryan, he could take advantage of the practice session to spar with Irving and find out his strength.

Why is this person so aggressive right from the start?

"Begin." Hughes's voice was devoid of any emotion.

Irving made the first move.

With both hands joined together in a claw shape, the strength is concentrated outwards along the metacarpal bones.

A dark golden luster spread from the base of his fingers to his fingertips; his palm shape was standard, and the path of his force was clear.

Xilun could tell at a glance—she had grasped the basics.

They even practiced it quite well.

Its speed isn't much slower than mine.

Irving bent his knees and lowered his center of gravity, ready to strike.

The next moment, just as he was about to step forward, he suddenly stopped.

His gaze was fixed on Xilun's right hand.

Why is there blood on your paws?

Xilun glanced down.

There were indeed several dark red marks under the fingernails, with a faint trace of fine fibrous material stuck to them.

It was because I didn't wash it properly when I practiced my exercises this morning.

"It's nothing," Xilen shook her head. "Let's continue!"

Irving swallowed hard.

His gaze moved from Xilen's fingernails to his palm, and then from his palm to his knuckles.

The dark red stuff had dried out and was embedded in the rough texture of the skin, as if it had seeped in. "Could it be—"

Irving's voice trembled slightly: "Human blood?"

Xilun frowned, about to explain.

"There's meat too!"

Irving's voice suddenly rose.

"That's human flesh!"

He had already automatically filled in a picture in his mind: Xilun's five fingers clenched together, crushing someone's chest cavity with one claw, flesh squeezing out from between his fingers, and residue still remaining under his fingernails when he washed his hands afterwards.

Xilun opened his mouth.

"That was one."

Before he could finish speaking, Irving had already instinctively taken two steps back, looking flustered and dazed.

The left foot steps on the toes of the right foot.

puff!

He fell straight to the ground.

The training room was deathly silent.

"Siren wins."

Hughes's voice was flat and indifferent, clearly unsurprised.

He glanced at Xilun's hand again.

Experienced professionals quickly identified that the residue was dark in color and had a coarse fibrous texture.

It's not human blood; it's from another species.

Fallon beat the other person.

Based on the combined practice results of the two groups, Hughes re-arranged the groups.

"Xilun and Farun, promoted to Group 3."

Fallon clenched his fists, his eyes filled with excitement.

For him, this is a real leap forward.

His foundation was weak, and his strength was among the lowest of all the trainees. He managed to climb from the ninth group to the third group, and every step he took was hard-won.

Xilun doesn't care.

He never cared about rankings.

In the days that followed, Group Three became his position.

The four people in the first two groups have all been cultivating for more than a year and are about to undergo baptism.

In terms of sheer strength and endurance, Xilun is no match for it in a head-on collision.

Unless we exert our full strength, but that doesn't seem necessary.

Not to mention the additional costs of explanation, there are no rewards for upgrading the group number by two more.

Given that Fallon's strength was indeed lacking, the two of them settled down in Group 3.

Life was too peaceful.

During the day, there are small winds and waves on the Greywater River, but they are not considered a significant risk.

When the net is cast, it mostly catches small fish and shrimp, with the occasional decent one or two.

The sailors on the ship were quite enthusiastic.

Mark was a talkative veteran, teaching Xilun how to read the wind direction and weather while rambling on about anecdotes and interesting stories from the port.

A widow on a certain street opened a new tavern, and a porter at the East Wharf stole half a case of rum and was hung on the mast to dry for an afternoon.

If there's been any major event lately, it's probably that fish.

A fat fish that was over two meters long sold for thirty pounds.

Silen received fifteen pounds.

With some money in hand again, he started to figure out how to spend it. The five pounds for the renewal fee had already been paid, and Fallon was helping to purchase the materials for the Dark Claw Kung Fu. The consumption of bullets was also within a controllable range.

The rest will be kept for emergencies.

Half a month has passed just like that.

Second floor, Professor Ryan's classroom.

Xilun was very familiar with this place. After finishing his claw technique class on the third floor in the morning, he would come here to practice more in the afternoon.

In the corner of the house, in front of the wooden stake.

The palm strikes landed on the pile surface one after another, with a steady and unhurried rhythm.

When he was practicing for the thirty-seventh time, Xilun suddenly stopped.

The moment the energy surged along the metacarpal bone, he caught a subtle change.

It was as if I had grasped some rare inspiration, a sudden flash of insight, something very subtle.

The energy circulating through the claw technique seemed to have become even stronger.

It's not that the power has increased, but that the path has become smoother.

From the base of the palm to the fingertips, from the wrist bone to the metacarpal bone, the entire power generation path is unobstructed.

When the energy is concentrated, a familiar dark golden luster appears on the palm, more stable and solid than ever before.

A surge of heat flowed from his dantian, filling his arms.

Xilun practiced several more times, repeatedly confirming that his claw skills had become even more profound.

Deep within the retina, a pale red data stream flickers and bounces.

[Skill: Dorok Dark Claw Technique (Proficient)]

[Progress: 0/50]

He silently withdrew his hands, his expression unchanged.

No one in the classroom noticed the commotion in the corner.

Some were practicing their skills, others were chatting; everyone was busy with their own things.

Only he knew what had just happened.

Don't waste moments when you're full of inspiration.

He sat cross-legged, placed his hands on his knees, and began to practice the Iron Wall Breathing Technique.

It takes a thousand points of experience to go from an expert to a master.

It's not about practicing a thousand times.

It is a complete cycle of a thousand times of focused concentration and wholehearted dedication.

Inhale and exhale energy, refine it for your own use. Each time you must do it to the extreme; perfunctory work doesn't count.

It will take at least another two months.

Xilun closed his eyes, and his breathing gradually calmed down.

As evening approached, he opened his eyes, preparing to finish his practice and go back to rest.

The classroom door was pushed open.

Ryan walked in.

Kanavi, who was practicing breathing techniques in the corner, looked up and asked a question.

"Mentor, what's wrong?"

Renn did not answer directly.

He looked around at everyone in the room, waiting until they all stopped and looked at him.

"A band of horse bandits has come from St. Albans."

Ryan's tone was flat.

"They are robbing refugees in the jungle. The New Righteous Society plans to lead a cleanup operation, and two second-tier extraordinary individuals are already in charge."

He paused.

"Anyone interested in participating? Rewards will be given based on performance, generally no less than five pounds. First-tier extraordinary individuals will receive at least twenty pounds."

The classroom was silent for two seconds.

The reward is substantial!

Many of the people here are used to hardship; a few pounds of money are enough for a family to eat for a long time.

Moreover, with three second-tier extraordinary individuals in charge, it doesn't seem too dangerous.

Several hands were raised one after another.

Robert stood up, his voice not loud, but everyone could hear him clearly.

"Mentor, I will travel with the family knights."

As soon as he finished speaking, several pairs of eyes shot over at the same time.

Family knights accompanied them.

Who here can match this pomp and circumstance?

Renn nodded slightly.

"Is anyone else going?"

Irving stepped forward.

"Teacher, let me go."

Renn looked at him, his brows furrowing.

"Irving, your temper—you can never control it, and..."

'

"teacher!"

Irving interrupted him.

"Please sign me up, I'm confident."

Renn was silent for a few seconds, then sighed.

"All right."

In the corner, Fester leaned closer and whispered to Xiren.

Are you going or not?

Xilun shook his head.

"I'm not going."

Fester was taken aback.

"Then I won't go."

Three days later, in the evening.

As usual, Xilun went to the classroom on the second floor, sat cross-legged, and practiced breathing exercises to inhale and exhale energy.

When he reached the third cycle of practice, he opened his eyes and glanced around.

Several familiar faces were not there.

Robert wasn't there, Irving wasn't there, and several other people we usually see were nowhere to be found.

They've all gone to suppress the bandits.

People gradually dispersed, and the house became silent, as if he were the only one left, feeling cold and lonely.

Footsteps came from behind.

Renn walked up to him, looked down at the student who had been squatting in the corner practicing his skills day after day, and asked, "How's your practice going lately?"

Xilun nodded slightly: "It's acceptable."

Renn sat down next to Siron.

The wooden chair made a muffled thud.

The classroom was empty, and the wind and snow outside the window dimmed the light, leaving only the flickering yellow flame of the wall lamp.

After a moment's thought, Raine said, "I've been practicing claw techniques for several weeks now."

He turned his head to look at Xilun.

"How's the progress? Have you even gotten started?"

Xilun thought for a moment: "It has already reached the level of physical training."

Renn paused in his movements.

"Practice physical conditioning?"

He repeated the two words, adding a layer of meaning to his tone.

"Practicing form" refers to having reached a level of proficiency.

He turned around and carefully examined Xilun.

The young man sat cross-legged in the corner, his training clothes still covered in powder from the wooden stakes, his expression calm, as if he were talking about something trivial.

Renn was stunned for several seconds.

"You have quite a talent for claw techniques."

He carefully chose his words, lowering his voice slightly.

"Your talent in police combat skills was only slightly above average."

At this point, Renn paused for a moment.

"But your progress in the Dorok Dark Claw Technique is truly astounding."

He tapped his fingers twice on his knee.

"Perhaps you are naturally suited for this."

Xilun nodded slightly; he was indeed a good fit.

Deep within the crevices of the palm, the power of the corrupting claws lay dormant, like a sleeping beast.

Each time the claw technique is activated, that power will slightly stir, forming a natural resonance with the direction of the Qi.

What others take a long time to grasp, he was born with in his bones.

Ryan didn't press further, and changed the subject.

"However, you have not yet been baptized."

His tone became serious: "The main goal is still the progress of the breathing technique."

The fingers stopped tapping.

"To undergo baptism, one must at least be at the expert level of breathing techniques; otherwise, the efficiency of refining the potion will be extremely low."

He looked at Xilun.

"What level of breathing technique are you at now?"

"I reached the expert level a few weeks ago."

Xilun's voice was flat.

Renn nodded subconsciously.

"If there's still a distance, what...?"

After nodding, he suddenly realized something.

look up.

stunned.

The classroom remained quiet for a long time.

The flame of the wall lamp flickered twice, casting a swaying shadow on the wall.

Ryan rested his hands on his knees, maintaining a nodding posture, as if he had been nailed to the spot by something.

Expert level!

A few weeks ago.

In other words, this kid is now pushing things forward beyond the expert level.

He stared at Xilun for a long time before slowly looking away.

"It seems—"

Ryan's voice was tinged with emotion: "I really didn't misjudge you."

He paused.

"Not only is he exceptionally talented, but he is also diligent and hardworking."

The whistling sound of wind rushing into the corridor from outside the classroom drowned out the crackling of the firewood in the fireplace.

Renn's brow twitched, as if he were pondering something.

"I think you might be a better candidate than Robert to participate in the junior equestrian boxing tournament."

This statement carries significant weight.

Robert is backed by his family's knights, who have abundant resources and a perfect record of four wins in four games, making them the club's most impressive asset.

For Ryan to say such a thing means that his opinion of Siron has reached a certain level.

Xilun did not comment.

Renn glanced at him, his tone turning somber.

"But I think you should know that, as someone who climbed up from the bottom through hard labor..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was clear.

The chances are extremely slim.

No background, no family, no resource channels.

A spot in a fight, the favor of a knight, the supply of potions—these things can never be earned with just fists.

Unless Celen's performance truly and clearly surpasses Robert's.

Xilun knew exactly what was going on.

He nodded, without any further reaction.

Ryan seemed satisfied with his attitude.

There was neither self-pity nor blind optimism.

The wind and snow outside the window grew stronger, and a thin layer of frost formed on the glass.

Ryan shifted his position, making himself more comfortable against the wall.

He crossed his arms, as if he had thought of something.

"You've been working for a while now."

His gaze fell on the empty training field ahead.

"What kind of existence do you think an Extraordinary being is?"

This problem came suddenly.

Xilun frowned.

He didn't rush to answer, but instead lowered his head and thought for a while.

The giant on the Greywater River, the Superbear in the cave, the locksmith's longsword, the solemn look on Mark's face when he talked about the underwater aliens—these images flipped through my memory frame by frame.

"Like—"

He carefully considered his words.

"A human-skinned monster in shackles."

Ryan did not interrupt him.

Xiren continued.

"Possessing superhuman strength, adhering to social systems, there is a risk of losing control, but the strength contributes to society."

His voice was neither fast nor slow.

"In summary, this grants extraordinary individuals a high status and a strong ability to amass wealth; as long as they become stronger, they can gain power."

He paused for a moment.

"Although becoming stronger is an incredibly difficult thing in itself."

"It's also extremely dangerous!"

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