While sleeping that night, the image of sparring with Jie Xi kept replaying in Wang Zhi's mind. He deeply understood the vast gap between them, and there were no shortcuts; he could only proceed step by step, accumulating effort over time. If others trained for 8 hours a day, he would train for 12.
Unfortunately, training no longer awarded Survival Points, meaning he earned far fewer points now.
The next day, Wang Zhi and his four companions arrived at the training ground as usual. Fatty's wound had scabbed over, and he could gradually resume training.
Upon arriving at the training ground, Wang Zhi happened to spot Tang Qilin from yesterday. This time, Wang Zhi did not go up to greet him because he did not want to give the other man another chance to show off.
Wang Zhi observed that their training method was very ordinary, consisting only of physical conditioning. The man with glasses stood to the side, supervising the training of those women, occasionally pointing things out. The distance was too great for Wang Zhi to hear what they were saying.
After watching for a while, Wang Zhi couldn't discern anything special, so he stopped looking in that direction and focused on his own practice.
"Captain Wang, is that pretty boy a new arrival?"
After training for a bit, Fatty leaned over and asked.
"That has nothing to do with us. A true master doesn't reveal their true abilities; if they reveal them, they aren't the true master. You shouldn't underestimate anyone here," Wang Zhi cautioned Fatty.
"Hmph, with that weak appearance of his, how formidable could he really be?" Fatty retorted unconvincingly.
"It's not your concern whether he's formidable or not; just focus on improving yourself. All those muscular tough guys upstairs haven't even advanced to the third level, so why is he able to bring a few women here?"
"Hiss~ If you think about it that way, those women might be formidable, but they all listen to that weak-looking man. That means this weak man must have something extraordinary, or some ability that makes those women follow him. I see now, Captain Wang, I think there's something fishy about that weak man."
Wang Zhi looked helplessly at Fatty, whose thought process was running eighteen miles behind, and finally understood.
"Yes, he is extraordinary. So, train hard. You didn't contribute much on this mission, so strive to perform well next time we go out. Brother has high hopes for you. Go on!"
"Got it!" Fatty readily agreed.
After the halftime break and meal, Wang Zhi called the four people into the training room. Wang Zhi planned for them to spar against each other in a live combat exercise—first, to gauge everyone's skill level, and second, because live combat is the fastest way to gain experience.
As for why they were using the training room, Wang Zhi had learned this from Jie Xi. Here, their abilities wouldn't be exposed, and the floor was made of excellent anti-fall rubber. With no outsiders spying, they could focus completely on sparring.
"Everyone draw lots. Random matches. Show your true skill, but for mock combat—aiming for vital points or disabling strikes—just simulate it; we all understand the boundaries. I'll draw first." Wang Zhi finished speaking and pulled out a '1'.
There were five slips in total: two '1s', two '2s', and one '3'. Drawing the '3' earned a bye in the final round. Then, those who drew '1' would fight each other, and those who drew '2' would fight each other.
After everyone drew, the results were: Wang Zhi and Old He drew '1', Fatty and Jia Liuli drew '2', and Su Muying drew '3'.
"As expected, Sister Ying is the boss!" Fatty remarked, looking at the '3' in Su Muying's hand.
"Old He, let's go first." Wang Zhi stood up and walked to the center of the room.
Weapons were allowed, or they could fight bare-handed. If they used a Dagger, it had to be sheathed to prevent injury during sparring. Both Wang Zhi and Old He chose to use Daggers. In the Apocalypse, fighting bare-handed was rarely a wise choice.
The two finished their preparations and began to slowly approach one another. This was the first time Wang Zhi would truly spar against Old He. Although he had been a shut-in before, he could see his own training progress every day since arriving here. Winning against Old He might still be somewhat difficult, but he felt he shouldn't lose too badly.
Wang Zhi waited for Old He to make a move. Unsure of his chances, Wang Zhi refused to attack first, knowing that striking first often exposed an opening. Sure enough, when Old He lunged forward, Wang Zhi found the flaw and countered, raising his hand to block Old He's Dagger-wielding right hand. He ducked low and delivered a sweep kick—*thwack!* It landed, but Old He merely swayed slightly; he hadn't lost his balance. *Not enough power!* Wang Zhi thought grimly. Having blocked Wang Zhi's move, Old He immediately slashed down toward Wang Zhi's leg. *Clang!* Old He's Dagger struck the rubber floor as Wang Zhi rolled clear, and the two reset their distance.
"Heh, I underestimated you. I'll have to be more careful this time." Old He flexed the leg Wang Zhi had just swept.
This time, Wang Zhi initiated the attack. He bolted forward, quickly closing the distance, then moved to Old He's left flank to strike. The moment he moved, Old He shifted away, causing Wang Zhi's blow to miss. Old He instantly seized Wang Zhi's Dagger-wielding right hand and twisted; the Dagger fell from Wang Zhi's grasp. Wang Zhi inwardly cursed—it was a joint lock! He tried desperately to break free, but Old He had already planned his next move: a swift leg sweep that sent Wang Zhi sprawling. The Dagger in Old He's right hand was now pressed against Wang Zhi's throat.
"I lost."
Wang Zhi got up from the ground, clutching his right arm. What has been happening lately? Are my arms conspiring against me? First the left shoulder dislocated, now the right one. If my body hadn't become so strong recently, I probably would have broken it.
"Fatty, Jia Liuli, it's your turn," Wang Zhi called out as he stepped aside.
Jia Liuli was still using her Ye Linglong. Fatty chose a Dagger. Although the Dagger was short, it was a formidable weapon for close combat, with myriad unpredictable moves, forming a sharp contrast to the sweeping, broad style of the long blade Jia Liuli used.
The fight began. Fatty couldn't get close; Jia Liuli's defense was excellent, offering almost no opening. Fatty kept probing from the periphery. After wearing down for a while, Fatty seemed to lose patience. He found what he considered a good opening and lunged forward. Seeing this, Jia Liuli flashed backward, parried Fatty's Dagger with her blade, and immediately brought the return cut down toward Fatty's stomach. Fatty paid it no mind, intending to continue his attack.
"Fatty, you've already been cut in half at the waist," Wang Zhi shouted from the side.
"Aiya, that's too unfair! Her weapon is too long; I can't get close at all," Fatty complained.
"Don't blame Jia Liuli's weapon; it's how well she handles it. Your dagger skills haven't been fully utilized yet. Pure brute force won't work either. If you were fighting bare-handed, you would win, but nobody's going to engage in a brawl with you," Wang Zhi analyzed after watching their exchange.
"Next up will be Jia Liuli against Old He. Whoever wins will then compete against the final boss, Ying. As for the two of us... there's no need for us to fight anymore," Wang Zhi said, turning to glance at Fatty.
"Why not?" Fatty asked, confused.
"There's no need to draw such a fine line between last place and second to last place," Wang Zhi said, his face dark. How low must this Fatty's emotional intelligence be to ask why? No matter which of them lost, the result wouldn't look good, and neither was willing to admit they were the caboose, so it was better not to compete at all.