Chapter Four: A Surge of Power
Without disturbing his father, Qin Ming stepped out of his home and made his way to the martial arts hall. Across the world, martial arts halls never closed, open twenty-four hours a day. Yet at this hour, save for the staff on duty, the hall was nearly deserted.
He approached the measuring device, steadied his stance, twisted his spine like a dragon, channeled his power into his arms, and unleashed a punch.
Bang!
A number instantly appeared on the display: 850 kilograms!
“So much improvement?” Qin Ming was elated.
Bang, bang, bang!
He struck three more times, registering 846, 860, and 857 kilograms respectively. These numbers pleased him greatly.
He then tested his speed, which was impressive as well—at peak, he reached 24.5 meters per second.
“I’m not far from becoming a quasi-warrior!” Qin Ming strode toward the area reserved for advanced students.
The community martial arts hall, aside from the main hall, was divided into three sections according to student level. Yet, as it was a neighborhood facility, the numbers were few and the divisions not strict.
Qin Ming began to acclimate to his surging strength.
Half an hour later, others began to arrive and he finally stopped.
Upon returning home, his mother had already prepared a meal. Seeing him, she asked, “Went to train?”
“Mm, made a big leap!” Qin Ming was invigorated. “Mom, I’ll eat more today!”
“I’m not afraid of you eating too much, only too little!” Luo Xia replied. “Go wash up, dinner’s ready!”
“Alright!”
After eating, Qin Ming hurried off to school, choosing not to take the subway but to jog instead. As for school? It was no longer his priority.
While jogging, he naturally adopted the Arrow Step—a footwork technique from another world that rooted itself in the spine, exploded from the feet, propelled him forward in an instant, and landed silently, the distance precise to the millimeter.
Bursting with strength made it hard to control, yet the technique demanded silent landings and exact distances, requiring mastery over one’s power.
Smack!
With a single step, Qin Ming left a footprint on the hardened ground, then vaulted forward, leaving an even deeper mark several meters away.
Clearly, he had not yet mastered his newfound strength.
He kept to lonely, remote paths, honing his footwork while learning to control his surging power. In that other world, he had already perfected this step to sublime heights.
In the Jiang family, due to his constitution, Jiang Fan focused on the refinement of ‘technique.’
As he advanced, the footprints grew shallower, eventually disappearing altogether, and each stride covered more than ten meters.
Arriving at school, Qin Ming felt completely refreshed.
Just then, the first period ended and he entered the classroom through the back door.
“You’re late again!” Wei Wen punched him playfully. “The college entrance exam is coming up, and you keep skipping class. Are you planning not to go to university?”
“I’m really not planning to!” Qin Ming laughed. “I came today to withdraw from school—and to say goodbye to you all!”
“You’re not serious, are you?” Wei Wen cried out. “If you said Luo Feng was dropping out, I’d believe it. He’s already an advanced student, so reaching quasi-warrior or even full warrior isn’t hard. But you? You’ve just become an intermediate student. What can you do without college? Are you out of your mind?”
“University is the only way!” Luo Feng chimed in from nearby. “I’m aiming for a military academy!”
“Come, let’s try it!” Qin Ming smiled and extended his palm to Luo Feng.
In front of him, Luo Feng wore a plain blue tracksuit. He was about 1.75 meters tall, wiry, but his eyes were bright and spirited.
For an ordinary family, reaching advanced student level at eighteen was the mark of a true genius. More astonishing was his latent psychic power, not yet awakened.
Once it awakened, he would soar, destined to be Earth’s savior.
For now, though, he was still a naive youth.
“Did you have a big breakthrough?” Wei Wen asked. “Feng, teach him a lesson!”
“I’ll give it a shot!” Luo Feng became interested.
They clasped hands and exerted force simultaneously.
Luo Feng’s expression soon changed.
“How is it?” Qin Ming released his grip.
“You’re stronger than me!” Luo Feng exclaimed. “I didn’t expect you to be hiding such strength. You’re nearly a quasi-warrior, aren’t you?”
“A quasi-warrior? That can't be!” Wei Wen was astonished.
Qin Ming shook his head. “Not quite yet! Remember, if you ever need anything, just call me—don’t hesitate.”
He waved, greeted the others, and left the classroom.
“That guy comes from a distinguished family, and now he’s nearly a quasi-warrior. He’s bound for greatness!” Wei Wen sighed. “Compared to you all, I feel like such a failure!”
“Everyone walks their own path, why envy others?”
“If I had your abilities, I wouldn’t envy anyone!”
After some trouble, Qin Ming completed his withdrawal.
The college entrance exam? He had no interest.
For him, it would only be a waste of time—far better spent cultivating.
Over the next few days, Qin Ming trained tirelessly, at home, in parks, and in deserted corners.
He believed that diligence could compensate for shortcomings.
If he were a genius, he’d be even more extraordinary.
Three days later, he perfected the sixth chart of the Profound Path. Testing himself, his strength reached 930 kilograms, speed 25.4 meters per second.
April twentieth, around nine in the morning.
Community martial arts hall, force measuring room.
“Old Qin, are you sure your boy has reached the quasi-warrior standard?” The hall master, Zhou Jing, was clearly skeptical. “I remember Xiao Ming was only an intermediate student, wasn’t he?”
“Just let him try!” Qin Yicheng was visibly excited.
“Yes, let’s test and see!” Zhou Jing said. “Xiao Ming, if you reach quasi-warrior level, you’ll bring honor to our community. Begin!”
“Alright!”
Qin Ming responded and struck three consecutive blows.
Bang, bang, bang!
“950, 955, 952 kilograms!” Qin Yicheng was overjoyed at the numbers. “A quasi-warrior’s punch is nine hundred—he’s clearly made it! Old Zhou, now do you believe?”
“I’m not blind!” Zhou Jing grinned. “Xiao Ming, come, let’s test your speed!”
Speed testing was simple: a sixty-meter track, measuring average velocity.
Soon, the result was out: 25.6 meters per second.
The third test, neural reaction speed, was more complex.
In the room was a device with over ten gun ports, and a circle of 3.6 meters diameter painted on the floor. Qin Ming stood inside.
Zhou Jing pressed a button; a red light enveloped him. “Xiao Ming, remember—step outside the circle and you fail. Touch the red light and points are deducted!”
“Uncle Zhou, I’ve got it!”
“Ready?”
“Ready!”
“Good, begin!”
The machine started spinning, firing red rubber bullets at random, their speed rapid and unpredictable—only reaction time could save him.
Qin Ming narrowed his eyes, fully focused.
As bullets flew, he stepped nimbly, dodging left and right, weaving like a fish through the torrent.
After a minute, Zhou Jing pressed the button, stopping the machine.
The bullets vanished, the red light receded.
“In sixty seconds, hit twenty-three times, no contact with the red light. Excellent!” Zhou Jing was delighted. “Our martial arts hall finally has a true genius.”
“And whose son do you think that is?” Qin Yicheng puffed his chest with pride.