Chapter 10: Visitors from the Five Forms Sect

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“The Five Forms Sect will send someone else, and they may not necessarily negotiate with you.”

After saying this, Hong Kang left with his men.

Zhang Ji, Lord Kui, and the others departed as well.

Inside the house, Zhang Ji and Lord Kui were tending to their wounds.

Zhang Ji had taken more attacks than Lord Kui, but although the injuries to both his arms looked dreadful, they were not actually very deep.

By contrast, several of Lord Kui’s wounds were deep enough to expose bone.

The gap in their power was plainly evident.

“Is the Five Forms Sect really that strong?” Zhang Ji asked, studying Lord Kui’s expression.

“Strong? Ten of you together wouldn’t be enough to matter,” Lord Kui replied.

“How large is their influence?”

“They are the overlords of an entire region. They also possess a handful of grandmaster-level fighters who remain alive today. Even in the current age, those grandmasters are not to be underestimated.”

Zhang Ji had no clear idea how powerful a grandmaster truly was.

After all, the ranks of fighters in the present era had never been fully standardized.

“Could a squad of men armed with rifles kill one?” Zhang Ji asked.

“To a grandmaster, firearms like ours are no different from toys,” Lord Kui said. “A grandmaster could practically be called a miniature human-shaped mech.”

At that, Zhang Ji understood.

They were C-rank fighters—beings who could almost completely ignore ordinary gunfire and might only be wounded by a direct confrontation with a large-caliber anti-materiel rifle.

With such defensive capabilities, their offensive power was naturally terrifying as well.

Among the fighters of the True Self Style, who relied primarily on their physical bodies, several hundred meters could be crossed in an instant. Their attacks possessed astonishing force, capable of easily piercing and shattering metal slabs more than a dozen centimeters thick.

The Profound Heart Style was divided into various schools, each with different methods, but their overall combat strength was more or less comparable.

Of course, against Zhang Ji and Lord Kui—two fighters who had only just reached D-rank—the Five Forms Sect had no need to send a grandmaster.

By the standards of modern society, Zhang Ji and Lord Kui were merely first- or second-rank professionals. Anyone above the third rank could defeat them both with ease.

They would not even need to employ the methods of the martial world. A few more powerful weapons would be enough to make Kui District change masters.

This was no longer an ancient age of cold weapons. Once infrared scanning was activated, a few drones equipped with sniper rifles overhead—or a couple of self-guided grenades—would be enough to take their lives.

For the martial world of the present age, it was a deeply tragic reality.

That was why Lord Kui had fallen silent.

“Do you have any medicine here?” Zhang Ji asked.

Lord Kui looked puzzled. “What kind of medicine?”

“Training medicine! The medicine for practicing the Iron Shirt!”

“I still have a batch,” Wu Chen said. “But shouldn’t that stuff have stopped working on you by now?”

“It still works,” Zhang Ji replied. “My body is unusual. It seems I haven’t developed any resistance to those medicines.”

It was an excuse he had come up with on the spot. Whether anyone believed him was irrelevant.

“Then I’ll bring it over later,” Wu Chen said.

Zhang Ji nodded. “All right.”

Once his wounds had been treated, Zhang Ji was led to a bedroom.

The soft mattress and scented quilt felt unfamiliar beneath him.

“Do you need a cat? A healthy one, I assure you,” Wu Chen offered.

“Cats” was the local euphemism for women who engaged in the sex trade.

“No. But I want two portions of roast duck with rice,” Zhang Ji said.

Wu Chen nodded in understanding and turned to attend to it.

Although Zhang Ji’s strength would not rank him among the elite beyond these walls, he was the strongest person here besides Lord Kui. Indeed, he had already begun to acquire some of Lord Kui’s authority.

Might made right. In every world, it was the most fundamental rule.

In this world, that rule was even more pronounced.

And this was only the present.

By the time the game version Zhang Ji had once played arrived—after the Saint King War—the status of fighters would rise still further. One of the prerequisites for obtaining social standing would be possessing sufficiently formidable combat ability. Martial training would even become a basic academic discipline, claiming a substantial portion of educational resources.

Before long, Zhang Ji was eating roast duck with rice.

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Not merely two portions. Worried that Zhang Ji would not have enough, Wu Chen had brought ten in all, though he heated only two and set them before Zhang Ji. He also delivered the medicines he used for training. There was a great deal of it—enough, Zhang Ji reckoned, for more than another month of practice once properly prepared.

After sending Wu Chen away, Zhang Ji sat alone on the bed, eating from the large bowl of roast duck and rice.

His gaze drifted toward the window, where Lord Kui’s men were clearing away the bodies.

Some belonged to Lord Kui’s people; others had been brought by Hong Kang.

There was no true distinction between good and evil here. It was nothing more than a naked struggle for profit.

If one did not wish to become part of the dead, one had to grow stronger.

Stronger than everyone else.

Strong enough to ignore every rule and live entirely as one pleased!

After finishing his meal, Zhang Ji went to the bathroom.

There was even a bathtub.

To be honest, he had never enjoyed such a thing before crossing into this world.

Immersed in the hot water, he felt considerably more at ease.

* * *

Early the next morning, Zhang Ji removed the bandages from his arms.

The wounds had already scabbed over, and some of the scabs crumbled and slid away at the slightest tap.

There was no need for further medicine. He could move normally again.

His recovery did not surprise him. He had already witnessed such healing when he was shot by bullets.

Opening the door, Zhang Ji found someone and asked him to heat two portions of roast duck with rice. After eating, he returned to his quarters and began training.

He also knew how to prepare the medicine; Lord Kui had taught him before.

Before long, his entire body had been beaten red.

Knock, knock, knock!

The sound of knocking came from the door.

Zhang Ji ended his training and opened it to find Lord Kui and Wu Chen outside.

“You were training?” Lord Kui asked, looking him over.

“Mm.” Zhang Ji nodded. “Did you need me?”

“Nothing major. Since you’re already at it, continue. Let Little Wu prepare the medicinal bath for you.”

Zhang Ji said nothing. He simply picked up the stick and began striking himself again.

Lord Kui watched closely, perplexed.

Zhang Ji had clearly already mastered the Iron Shirt, yet his skin still reddened so easily.

In theory, training should become increasingly difficult after reaching mastery. Even being struck with a small iron hammer ought to require considerable effort before the skin turned red.

Yet Zhang Ji had managed it with a wooden stick in such a short time. Lord Kui could not make sense of it.

In the end, he could only attribute it to Zhang Ji’s unusual constitution.

A genius of this caliber was someone Lord Kui had never encountered before, and he could not fathom the details.

After beating every part of his body until it had turned red, Zhang Ji climbed into the medicinal bath Wu Chen had prepared.

The bath was a deep brown. Compared with the medicinal paste he had used before, it was less harsh, yet far more effective.

Zhang Ji even submerged his head for a while. Then he abruptly raised it, leaned back against the tub, and said to Lord Kui, “All right. What is it?”

“The Five Forms Sect has sent word. They will come in person three days from now,” Lord Kui replied.

“You want to know what I plan to do?”

“Something like that.”

Zhang Ji was now, in a sense, one of the leaders of Kui District, so Lord Kui naturally had to show some respect for his opinion.

“We can’t beat them, can we?” Zhang Ji asked.

“There’s no way to fight them.” Lord Kui nodded.

“Then we’ll surrender with both hands raised and stay alive for now,” Zhang Ji said. “We can worry about the rest later.”

“You see things more clearly than I do.” Lord Kui smiled. “I thought you might refuse to accept it and want to test their strength first.”

“I know my own limits.” Zhang Ji slowly clenched his fist. “I already struggle to beat you. If you say there’s no way to fight them, I’m certainly not going to throw my life away.”

Zhang Ji understood that negotiations were possible only when one possessed sufficient strength. Without that strength, compromise and patience were the wisest choices.

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“Then that settles it. I won’t disturb you any longer,” Lord Kui said.

With that, he rose and left with Wu Chen.

Over the next two days, Kui District seemed to return to its former routine.

Zhang Ji trained desperately.

At the same time, he found opportunities to consult Lord Kui about matters of technique.

Lord Kui’s injuries had not yet fully healed, so he could only have Wu Chen spar with Zhang Ji while offering guidance from the sidelines.

It was then that Wu Chen truly experienced Zhang Ji’s strength.

Throughout their exchange, Wu Chen had no power to fight back. Even when he pushed his techniques to their limits, he was unable to affect Zhang Ji.

Using a small force to redirect a great one still required that small force to exist in the first place.

“When you throw a punch, you must never simply let the other hand drop. Your speed in returning to guard is insufficient, and it leaves openings…”

“When facing an attack, you cannot rely solely on meeting force with force. You must learn to deflect and dissipate power, avoiding vital areas as much as possible. The Iron Shirt does not mean you should simply endure every blow. On the contrary, it requires you to use your muscles and skin to disperse and neutralize as much of the force as possible.”

“Pay attention to your footwork. Don’t spread your stance too wide. If you’re attacked, you’ll be more likely to lose your balance…”

Lord Kui’s instruction was practical, and Zhang Ji learned quickly.

Unfortunately, these techniques were still insufficient to form a skill essence.

Even taken on their own, however, techniques possessed formidable combat power.

Within the True Self Style, there was a school devoted entirely to technique known as the Spirit Intent School.

Its methods centered primarily on mental power and technique.

A single measure of strength could produce ten measures of effect.

The masters at the pinnacle of the Spirit Intent School could achieve a state of spiritual transformation, bringing mind and body into perfect balance and naturally unifying all the strength throughout their bodies.

It resembled a form of biological superconductivity. The transmission of force through the body suffered almost no loss and placed no burden upon it.

In that state, even with the physical attributes of an ordinary person, a casual strike could possess the force of dozens of tons.

Of course, although Lord Kui’s techniques could not yet form a skill essence, they had still increased Zhang Ji’s strength considerably.

At the very least, he no longer had to fight without any method or structure.

Looking back, he realized that he had missed at least five opportunities when facing Hong Kang.

Any one of them would have been enough to take Hong Kang’s life.

At last, the day arrived when the Five Forms Sect sent its people.

Zhang Ji, Lord Kui, and the others reached the outskirts of Kui District and watched from a distance as three vehicles came speeding down the road.

When the vehicles arrived in Kui District, more than a dozen figures stepped out.

Every one of them bore signs of martial training. Zhang Ji found it almost absurd: every single one of them was a professional-level fighter.

The driver opened the door of the middle vehicle, and an elderly man with gray hair emerged. He wore a white formal suit and leaned on a cane. With several attendants beside him, he walked up to Zhang Ji and Lord Kui.

“Who defeated Hong Kang?” he asked.

“I did,” Zhang Ji replied, meeting his gaze.

“Good.”

The instant the word left the old man’s mouth, his cane lashed out.

Zhang Ji had not even seen it clearly. He felt only a sharp pain in his shoulder before dropping directly to one knee.

He tried to rise, but no matter how much strength he exerted, he could not move. He tried to twist away, yet he could not escape.

The old man’s cane continued pressing downward. Zhang Ji’s face flushed crimson, but he could not straighten his body.

His face was forced against the ground. The smell of dust and damp earth filled his nostrils, accompanied by something else: helplessness.

The feeling that no matter how desperately he struggled, all effort was futile.

Lord Kui stepped forward to help, but the old man merely lifted his cane and thrust it lightly ahead.

Bang!

Lord Kui was sent flying backward. He crashed to the ground and rolled several times.

“Lord Kui!”

Wu Chen and the others hurried forward to help him up.

Zhang Ji pushed himself to his feet and retreated to Lord Kui’s side. When he looked at the old man again, his expression had become grave.

He had expected a difference between them, but being pressed to the ground by a casual strike without the slightest ability to resist was still difficult to accept.

As a show of dominance, the old man’s move had been undeniably effective.

“You defeated Hong Kang. From this moment on, you will take his place and work for our Five Forms Sect! This is a notification, not a negotiation. Do well, and you will be rewarded. Fail, and you will die!”

The old man looked at Zhang Ji, his cane planted against the ground.

“My name is Wang Quan. I am an elder of the Five Forms Sect. Of course, by the customs of your district, you may call me—Lord Quan.”

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