"Why… do you all want to learn martial arts?"
There was still some time before class officially began. Fang Xing stared at Xia Long, his mind wandering again, recalling the scene from their very first martial arts lesson.
Back then, it was still Xia Long, standing in the exact same spot, voice booming like thunder:
"Because you are reserve soldiers! One day, you'll be on the battlefield, locked in deadly combat with the followers of the Evil Gods… Learning martial arts is for one reason only—to survive!"
"Remember this, then train hard! Train like your life depends on it—because it does! Only then will you have even a sliver of a chance to live!"
"Given your backgrounds, you'll never have the resources to become a Mech Pilot or a Psychic. Those career paths require immense investment. Martial arts, however, require the least resources while still offering decent prospects. It's your best evolutionary path!"
"I expect every one of you to reach the Second Martial Realm before graduation and master at least one A-Rank martial technique. If not, stepping onto the battlefield will only mean death—without a second possibility!"
The blood-soaked cruelty of those words had instantly pulled Fang Xing into harsh reality.
Now, in the present, Xia Long began his lecture:
"The followers of the Evil Gods are mostly capable of mental pollution. Even the lowest of their servants can unleash psychic shocks… In the early days, the Federation's fleets and mech pilots suffered greatly. Our asylums were packed to capacity during that time… But later, we discovered something—the Martial Will developed through human martial arts evolution can resist this kind of psychic corruption.
"It's extremely difficult for you to reach the 'Courage Realm' by adulthood and gain even a trace of Intent Power, but the Federation has developed many martial techniques that, through hypnotic training, can grant even low-level martial artists almost the same resistance. That is the origin of A-Rank martial techniques…"
Fang Xing gritted his teeth as he listened from below.
Martial arts—supposedly the most cost-effective evolutionary path in the Blue Star Federation—was, in truth, the cannon fodder profession.
There were many ways to resist the mental pollution of the Evil God followers: an alchemist's potions, a psychic's talismans, psionic armor, even specially modified mechs. But for someone like him—penniless and burdened with debt—those options were a fantasy.
For cyborgs like him, there was only one road: learn martial arts, head to the front lines, and hack apart the followers with a blade.
If you survived a few years without dying, you might just make it to retirement alive.
Of course, the Federation hadn't completely shut off other paths for cyborgs.
After all, cyborgs and natural humans weren't truly that different—both had endless potential.
Back then, Fang Xing's plan in sitting here was to get into a university, so he could delay his conscription.
According to Federation law, if you were accepted into a university, you'd receive a scholarship and be able to postpone military service until after graduation.
Many of the Federation's Martial Saints and Martial Gods had taken exactly that route.
"Get into university…"
"Difficult—extremely difficult! Even Xia Long, deep down, doesn't believe a single one of us will make it. One of the basic requirements for university entrance is to reach the Third Martial Realm—'Jade Body'—before graduating high school."
The Three Martial Realms were: First—Skin & Flesh, Second—Tendons & Bones, Third—Jade Body.
A martial artist who reached the Jade Body Realm would have a body that transcended its natural limits. The organs would function in perfect harmony, automatically repairing hidden injuries. The inner and outer circulation would be flawless, allowing one to live to one hundred and twenty years without illness.
Fang Xing sighed inwardly, then turned his gaze to Xia Long's movements.
At this moment, Xia Long was demonstrating a stance, his spine trembling like a great dragon.
"Today's class will begin with thirty minutes of the 'Great Dragon Stance,' followed by the Twelve Forms of Military Boxing…"
"The Great Dragon Stance needs no lengthy explanation. It is the best stance training for refining skin and flesh in the First Martial Realm. After countless simulations by the Federation's super-intelligent brain, the All-Knowing Mind, it has reached 'Perfect' level—training every bit of skin and flesh without the slightest omission.
"When standing, you mustn't be stiff—you must let body and intent move together. Imagine your torso as a giant dragon, your spine as its backbone, your limbs as its claws… The stance should not exceed one hour a day. If you can afford it, buy D3-Grade Nutrient Fluid from the store…"
Xia Long explained in great detail, though inwardly he sighed. Even the cheapest D3 Nutrient Fluid cost 5,000 star-credits—far beyond the long-term means of most cyborg students.
But there was no helping it. Federation resources were limited, and martial arts were already the cheapest, most accessible evolutionary path.
Without showing notable talent, neither the school nor the individual would invest further.
Inhale… Exhale…
Fang Xing calmed his mind, taking the Great Dragon Stance. A strange familiarity rose in his heart, as if he had practiced this stance for a long time.
He unconsciously slowed his breathing, visualizing a towering dragon in his mind. His spine's bones trembled one by one.
In this state, he felt his skin pulsing, tingling, and itching in strange ways, his muscles heating up.
"Hold it… Hold it…"
He had only been given one chance to cross into this world—how could he waste it? To touch such extraordinary power, he had to endure.
He didn't know how much time had passed when his whole body suddenly felt drained, his vision darkening. A wave of absolute exhaustion swept through him.
It was like a sudden loss of strength in a long-distance run—his body refusing to produce even a shred of power.
"Is this my limit? Am I about to faint? What if they have to carry me to the infirmary? That would be humiliating…"
Just then, in the haze of his fading consciousness, Fang Xing seemed to return to that night—staying up late reading novels.
Before his eyes appeared a flash of sword light. With that single sword strike, it was as though countless worlds were being born and destroyed…
"Is this… the scene from when I crossed over?"
"But why do I feel it's a sword… not a blade, or some other light?"
"Under that sword light… it feels like something terrifying was sealed away…"
Fang Xing had no time to think further. He saw the sword light split, becoming two orbs of light—one red, one white.
The two lights chased each other like swimming fish, or like the yin-yang halves of a Taiji symbol.
Suddenly—
BOOM!!!
The red and white lights collided, the terrifying brilliance erasing everything.
The Taiji symbol shattered, and then… a faint glimmer appeared before him:
[Name: Fang Xing][Age: 16][Profession: Martial Artist]
A simple panel. When Fang Xing's consciousness focused on the profession, several sub-entries appeared:
[First Realm: Skin & Flesh (Refining Skin: 21/100)][Twelve Forms of Military Boxing: 55/100 (Beginner)][Great Dragon Stance: 67/100 (Beginner)]
"What kind of game interface is this? Is this my cheat ability? It seems to be connected to the vision I saw when I first crossed over…"
Fang Xing's mind stirred, and then—Countless insights about the Great Dragon Stance surfaced in his heart. Suddenly, he felt power flowing once more through his limbs and bones, as if a nearly dried-up canal had been replenished with fresh water, preventing him from immediately collapsing.
I see… Even though I fully inherited the original body's mental state and muscle memory, actually using them is a different matter. The heart may know it, and the hands may know it… but without coordination, the skill is degraded.
Now, with this attribute panel, my proficiency is fixed—it will only increase, never regress…
Only now can I truly say I've completely taken over everything from the original body—even the martial arts.
If only I could add stat points…
Greedy thoughts crept in, but after searching the panel up and down, Fang Xing found no "add points" option and reluctantly gave up for now.
"Alright, thirty minutes are up."
A few minutes later, Xia Long's voice rang out. The students who had been holding their stance instantly relaxed, relief flooding their faces. Liu Wei even collapsed to the ground, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath.
Fang Xing was in much better shape. His legs felt slightly weak, but he wasn't anywhere near the point of lying down.
"Hey, Xing, your stance training's gotten even stronger. Did you sneak in extra practice at home last night?"
Seeing that his fellow "sufferer" hadn't collapsed, Liu Wei couldn't help but tease.
"This is just my normal level!" Fang Xing replied between heavy breaths—Though in his heart, he added: It's just… this is Fang Xing at his absolute peak.
A person's condition can vary day to day, but with an attribute panel locking his stats, he would always be at his peak.
In Liu Wei's eyes, however, it looked like Fang Xing had improved yet again.
"Heh, your stance might be a tiny bit better than mine, but that won't necessarily be true for the next drill." Liu Wei grinned and pushed himself up from the ground.
Xia Long barked another command: "Don't just lie there! You're in the perfect state right now. Get up and practice! Military Combat Boxing—Twelve Forms—First Form! Bow Step Cannon Punch!"
Fang Xing's spine curved like a drawn bow, the tendons along his body pulled taut like bowstrings. His right hand tightened, fingers together, joints cracking sharply. He imagined his body as a giant bow, launching his fist forward.
Pa!
The punch exploded outward, producing a muffled pop in the air that startled Liu Wei beside him.
"Xing, how are you… so strong all of a sudden?"
Seeing several students manage to make their punches echo through the air, Xia Long's normally harsh expression softened slightly.
"Good. As the ancient boxing manuals say, 'A single echo is worth a thousand gold pieces.' If you can create that sound, in ancient times you'd each be considered a bright-force martial artist—able to take on ten men! But that's still not enough—far from enough!"
"Why is this first form called the 'Cannon Punch'? The bow stance is only the entry point. Imagining your body as a bow is just the start. You must next imagine yourselves as cannons—use your heart's fire to ignite the gunpowder of your blood and energy, and launch your fist like a cannonball!"
As he spoke, Xia Long demonstrated.
Boom!
Though it was the same Bow Step Cannon Punch, it felt as if an actual cannonball exploded in the air. Fang Xing's eardrums throbbed, his heart constricting under the pressure, a faint tightness in his chest.
That punch… no less than twenty years of skill. I couldn't block it…
Xia Long lowered his fist and stood tall. "The day you can produce a true Cannon Punch—when an echo is worth ten thousand gold—that's when this form will be considered at minor mastery. The key lies in the heart's fire. Use the heart to drive the blood and energy."
He walked over to a student, placing a casual palm on their back.
The student's face flushed red, and they threw a punch—though it lacked the cannon's boom, the pop was noticeably louder than before.
This kind of personal instruction… no training projection could compare. But it looks like only those who can already produce an echo get this privilege…
As Fang Xing pondered, Xia Long appeared behind him, pressing five fingers to his back.
"Punch!"
At once, Fang Xing felt heat bloom in his chest, like ignited gunpowder eager to erupt.
"Hah!"
He roared softly, throwing the punch. Immediately after, he felt drained, almost collapsing.
"Not bad. Next time, mind your footwork…"
Xia Long gave a short pointer before moving on to instruct a female student.
Fang Xing simply sat down on the ground, gulping down breaths of air—but excitement burned in his chest.
His mind returned to the attribute panel, where he located the subcategory for Military Combat Boxing.
Military Combat Boxing – Twelve Forms: 56/100 (Beginner)
"Proficiency… went up by 1 point?"
"If I did this a few dozen more times, I could perfect the beginner stage and advance to the next level?"
"But… if I really did this a few dozen more times, my body wouldn't survive…"
Feeling the soreness in his arms, Fang Xing shook his head.
Then suddenly, his gaze froze.
At the very bottom of the attribute panel, a strange new symbol appeared.
It was made of twisting lines, vaguely forming the outline of a mirror.
When his consciousness focused on it, a new line of text emerged:
Gate of the Myriad Heavens: 1/100 (Capturing…)
(End of Chapter)