"Force rises from the hips, power unleashes from the waist, breath surges through the arms, and momentum drives into the fist's edge."
"A weapon is an extension of the body. You must forge a state where arms and steel become one, where power permeates blood and breath, and intent governs the entire body. Only then can you glimpse the wonder of traditional martial arts: the unity of man and weapon."
Inside the training ground.
Cheng Ye paced back and forth like the wind, chanting the mnemonic Liu Bi had taught him while swinging his blade in empty slashes.
Unfortunately, when Liu Bi's imposing saber technique fell into his hands, aside from making slightly wider movements, it looked more like chopping vegetables for dinner.
Soft and limp, devoid of transmitted force.
*Thud.*
The short saber struck the ironwood dummy, bounced off to the side, and left behind a barely discernible nick.
"The grit and bloodlust of modern people were ground smooth long ago by civilized schooling. I'd have to watch short videos for half a day just to build up the nerve to slaughter a chicken, let alone cut down a person..."
Cheng Ye could not help but shake his head. "If I rely purely on self-study and refuse to act on reckless bravado, I probably won't have the confidence to handle an ordinary infected specimen even after six months to a year of training."
"Fortunately, I have another way out."
Cheng Ye sheathed his short saber, retreated to a corner, and opened his panel with a thought.
[Collector: Cheng Ye]
[Current Rank: Lv. 1 Apprentice]
[Life Tier: 0]
[Skills: Empty, Empty, Empty (Equippable: Beast Instinct, Basic Force Exertion)]
"Equip Basic Force Exertion!"
The thought flashed across his mind.
*Buzz.*
Cheng Ye felt as though someone had slammed a hammer into his brain. Stars exploded across his vision, and his temples throbbed violently.
It was as if a pair of invisible, giant hands had pried open his skull to force in a strand of memory that did not belong to him.
Cleaving, stabbing, upward slashes...
In his hazy sea of consciousness, a dark-skinned man continuously slashed with a long saber, his movements crude yet carrying the vicious drive of an unorthodox street fighter.
It felt like an instant, yet also like a month, a year, several years!
By the time Cheng Ye came back to his senses, the man before him had vanished, leaving only the short saber in his hand, slightly raised.
"This feeling..."
Subconsciously, Cheng Ye lightly swung the short saber. Though his form remained stiff and awkward, the way he exerted force had undergone an entirely radical transformation.
From the hips to the waist, to the arms, and into the weapon!
The kinetic chain he had envisioned countless times had finally connected. With every slash, Cheng Ye felt as though he were striding into a full sprint—growing stronger and more proficient with each swing!
"Magnificent, absolutely magnificent!"
"So this is how the blade should be driven—not by simply pressing down, but by using the hips to lead the waist, the waist to lift the arm, turning the entire body into a lever to produce the impact of a falling sledgehammer."
Liu Bi had taught him three moves in total:
The downward cleave, the thrust, and the diagonal slash.
Every single one was a lethal strike aimed at killing. Cheng Ye had previously assumed these three moves lacked real weight, but now that he unleashed them with the muscle memory granted by the skill, they brimmed with murderous intent.
*Bang!*
The short saber cleaved heavily into the wooden dummy, striking a shower of sparks.
Cheng Ye looked down, his pupils contracting slightly. The cut had far exceeded his expectations, biting two full centimeters deep into the wood. That was already slightly above the minimum melee standard required for field deployment at the checkpoint.
"Unfortunately, while my technique is sufficient now, my physical condition has become a bottleneck."
"If I had strength like Brother B's, the power of this slash could reach at least five centimeters... maybe even six."
After making his assessment, Cheng Ye prepared to test the other skill.
Before that, however, he chose to unequip Basic Force Exertion from his skill slot.
Like a receding tide, the muscle memory drained away rapidly. The short saber, which had felt increasingly familiar in his grip only moments earlier, turned awkward once more as he swung it.
The fluid chain of kinetic force connecting the three saber forms vanished along with it.
*Thud.*
He stepped forward and cleaved down into the ironwood dummy.
Cheng Ye drew back his weapon and examined the mark closely. Just as he expected, while his very first strike had left only a barely visible scratch, this one left a distinct cut nearly seven to eight millimeters deep.
"If it works like this, three skill slots are more than enough for my early stages!"
Cheng Ye nodded slightly, delight welling up in his chest.
Equipping a skill granted not only the kinetic experience of exerting force, but also the muscle memory that went with it.
Unequipping the skill caused the muscle memory to fade, yet the understanding of force exertion remained completely intact.
To put it more plainly:
Equipping a skill was like receiving internal energy from a grandmaster, granting an instant surge of high cultivation realm and the corresponding power.
Unequipping the skill withdrew the power, while the realm, insights, and comprehension were preserved.
"Having already grasped the realm, knowing how to train and channel force, and being able to equip the skill at any moment to catch my own training errors... this is even better than hands-on instruction from a traditional martial arts master."
Cheng Ye was immersed in joy.
A reckless brute like Liu Bi was an absolute ace in combat, but as a teacher, he was dreadful.
All he ever preached was to embrace anger and abandon reason.
It was only because Cheng Ye possessed strong learning and mimicry abilities that the genetic gap between them had not been exposed.
*Wait, didn't I cross over by soul transmigration? Logically speaking, shouldn't I possess both a modern person's mind and a wasteland survivor's combat prowess...?*
Cheng Ye pondered it for a moment, attributing the issue to the possibility that the original host's genes simply had not fit this era in the first place. Otherwise, Cheng Long would never have sent his son to be sheltered inside the high walls at an early age without teaching him a shred of combat technique.
Re-equipping Basic Force Exertion, the familiar muscle memory flooded back.
This time, Cheng Ye merely shuddered slightly before fully reintegrating the muscle memory into his body.
"It seems equipping a skill for the first time must be done in an absolutely safe environment. After the initial integration, re-equipping it carries far less disruption."
Cheng Ye noted this down mentally, then quickly tapped Beast Instinct to equip it.
"Huh?"
He had braced himself for another mental surge, yet several seconds passed, and Cheng Ye could only let out a puzzled gasp.
Strange. Why didn't he feel anything at all?
He unequipped it and equipped it again, yet he could perceive no difference whatsoever from before.
"Could it be... a passive skill?"
Cheng Ye frowned in thought.
Just then, the defense comm resting on the ground nearby chimed.
[Liu Bi: I'm at the entrance. Come out to eat.]
To test the changes brought by his skills, Cheng Ye had come straight to the training ground after clocking out without grabbing dinner.
While focused on swinging his saber, he had not noticed it, but the moment he read the message, an intense hunger struck him, as if he had starved for days.
"The newly acquired muscle memory must have burned through a lot of energy."
Locking the training short saber into the weapon rack's groove, Cheng Ye walked briskly toward the exit. From a distance, he spotted Liu Bi holding a bag at their usual spot, waving him over.
"Brother B, did you strike it rich? Didn't you say you'd just bring me some nutrient paste?"
Cheng Ye took the bag and opened it, freezing in surprise.
Inside were two full packs of synthetic jerky along with three palm-sized pretzel breads.
Although the edges of the bread showed a few specks of mold, in this wasteland era, inside Happiness City—and even within the Inner City—this was a rare delicacy!
"The jerky is Garcia's compensation to you. The bread... Old Ding gave it to me," Liu Bi grumbled in reply.
As the words fell, Cheng Ye realized that Liu Bi did not seem in high spirits today. Though he forced a faint smile, a shadow still lingered around the corners of his eyes.
"What happened?"
"I strung Garcia up and gave him a thrashing. He's currently receiving emergency care at the clinic."
Liu Bi spoke in a flat tone, as if recounting an incident that had nothing to do with him, making Cheng Ye's eyelids twitch.
*Wait, man, you beat him into emergency care, so why do you look like the one who took a beating?*
*No, why did you beat Garcia? Because I paid five contribution points to take those people off his hands?*
*That shouldn't be enough to warrant this, right?*
"Wait... this isn't because of me, is it?"
"It's somewhat related, but not entirely on you," Liu Bi said, shaking his head slightly. "Swapping refugees between inspectors is within the tacit bounds of the rules, but that bastard had to act up right at quitting time. He ran his mouth to everyone, claiming you were an unfledged brat leaning on my name to threaten him, and blabbered about how the East Faction had no real men left. Ridiculous."
"Setting aside the fact that Brother Long saved his father's life during a mission back in the day, with the East and West Factions locked in such bitter friction right now, he had no business sticking his neck out to play the instigator."
"Old Ding told you to make a move?"
Cheng Ye began to piece it together, his brow furrowing.
The buoyant mood sparked by his surge in strength suddenly leveled out into cold calm.
Logically, this should have been a minor matter, but with the internal strife between the East and West Factions, everyone had become playing cards in the hands of Ding Yishan and Harlin.
The East Faction was weak. Cheng Ye's play had failed to decisively trump Garcia, costing them face, so Ding Yishan naturally played a bigger card to seize back the initiative.
"Let's not dwell on that. Eat up, and let's get back to training right after. No petty scheme matters more than raw strength."
Liu Bi waved a dismissive hand.
Squatting beside the bus stop, Cheng Ye ate rapidly. In no time, he devoured both packs of jerky, followed by two rock-hard pieces of pretzel bread before stopping.
Civilian pursuits could be frugal, but martial arts demanded wealth. Without adequate energy replenishment, training would only deplete the body.
"Such an appetite. Looks like your recent training really is paying off."
Liu Bi was somewhat surprised, but what surprised him even more was Cheng Ye's performance after they entered the training ground.
Setting marksmanship training aside for the moment—that was slow work, and even a sharpshooter had to be fed with mountains of ammunition—they turned to close-quarters combat. Yesterday Cheng Ye had taken the offensive while Liu Bi defended; today they reversed the order, with Liu Bi attacking and Cheng Ye defending.
"Here I come!"
Liu Bi bellowed fiercely, brimming with momentum, though his swinging arm carried only ten percent of its strength.
*Thud.*
A dull collision echoed as Cheng Ye met the blow head-on with his elbow, sinking his shoulders and dropping his elbows to whip his entire arm downward like a lash.
"Bold!" Liu Bi's pupils narrowed slightly. Refusing to dodge, he blocked the strike with his forearm to gauge the force.
*Smack!*
A patch of flush red bloomed on Liu Bi's dark skin where Cheng Ye's fist whipped across.
Though his dense bone absorbed most of the impact, the remaining force still pricked his ulnar nerve like a fine needle, making him feel a sharp twinge of pain.
*He finally has real power!*
Liu Bi narrowed his eyes slightly. Over the past two days, Cheng Ye had failed to even break his defense, yet today he had made him feel pain.
A leap of this scale went beyond pleasant surprise; it was downright shocking.
"Get ready. I'm getting serious!"
Though he declared it aloud, Liu Bi only raised his force from ten percent to twenty.
It sounded like a modest increase, but doubling the power exerted immense pressure on Cheng Ye in an instant.
*Brother B has rolled through twenty years of life-and-death struggles, and the infected he's killed long surpassed five figures. He's terrifyingly strong.*
*Yet today... I'm not weak either!*
Cleaving, smashing, parrying, flinging—the kinetic methods granted by Basic Force Exertion were translated through his fists and arms.
A beastlike aura surged from Cheng Ye's frame.
Liu Bi was inwardly startled. Unconsciously, the power in his hands crept up by half a notch, another half, another half...
*Smack!*
Cheng Ye flew backward, crashing hard against the ironwood dummy, nearly vomiting up the jerky he had eaten earlier.
"Holy crap!"
Liu Bi's expression changed drastically. Darting forward like an arrow, he hurriedly caught Cheng Ye.
For some inexplicable reason, he had felt as if he were facing a mutant beast just then, and in that momentary daze, he had reflexively cranked his power up to forty percent!
A blow of that caliber carried at least twenty years of martial mastery; how could Cheng Ye possibly block it?
"Brother B... you as a sparring partner... your pay... is getting docked!"
Cheng Ye dry-heaved twice, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.
Only after suppressing the surge of churned blood in his chest could he manage to choke out a complaint.
Truth be told, that punch had felt like getting slammed by a heavy-duty truck on the highway, sending him flying without the slightest room to resist.
So much for technique, force exertion, and Beast Instinct...
No, calling it "Beast Mode" was probably more accurate.
Recalling his state during the clash, Cheng Ye realized he had fought as if possessed. Every attack and defense had genuinely followed what Liu Bi had said before—no longer calculating with his head, but executing entirely on instinct and intuition.
"My fault, totally my fault."
Liu Bi apologized repeatedly, but his eyes were filled with unbridled delight, devoid of any prior gloom. Grinning ear to ear, he said, "Brother Long really lied to me again. Your talent is definitely above mine!"
...
Chapter 7