What the hell is the "kill line" when you're in America?

Li Ang took off his coat, revealing the old gray T-shirt he had also swiped.

He walked to the punching bag area.

First, I moved my wrists and ankles to feel the changes in my body.

I checked my current attributes.

[Host: Li Ang]

[Attributes: Spirit 15, Constitution 14, Strength 13, Agility 14]

[Skill: Photographic Memory]

[Freely Allocable Attribute Points: 1]

[Magic Points: 10]

The numbers in the attribute panel are just a vague concept to him right now.

He needs to translate that into real combat power.

Li Ang walked to the sandbag and put on the boxing gloves next to it.

Then he threw a powerful punch.

The moment the fist touched the sandbag, the sandbag shook violently.

The force of that punch was greater than he had anticipated.

He didn't stop, continuing to swing his fists.

Every punch he threw employed the power generation techniques he had honed in the world of cultivation.

Although there was no magical power involved, the muscle memory remained.

Soon, many eyes in the gym were drawn to Li Ang.

They all watched as the Asian boy pounded the sandbag like a madman.

"Is this guy... on drugs?"

"Look at his build, how can he have such strength?"

Li Ang was immersed in his own world, feeling the power feedback from each punch.

This pure physical strength gave him a long-lost sense of security.

"Hey kid."

Hearing the sound, Li Ang stopped what he was doing and turned around.

A burly white man wearing a T-shirt, with muscles bulging as if they were about to explode and a neck thicker than his thighs, stood behind him with his arms crossed, his smile looking somewhat greasy.

[Criterion for elimination: Medium (Long-term abuse of nine different types of "blood-burning powders" leads to a seemingly strong body but internally weak constitution, posing a potential risk of sudden death)]

"Well played. Want to get even stronger?"

Li Ang remained silent.

"Judging from your appearance, you're probably still using the most primitive methods of training," the coach said with a sigh. "That's too slow and inefficient."

After saying that, he spread his wings like a roc, showing off his rough arms with bulging veins to Li Ang.

"See, this is the effect! Do you know how long it took me?"

"It's only been a little over two years! Dude, do you want to...?"

Before the coach could finish speaking, Li Ang waved his hand in refusal.

He came here to get a card purely so that he could continue to test his limits.

You can't just go around picking fights to test your limits, can you?

They might not even be able to detect it before the shooting starts and people die.

Seeing that Li Ang refused, the smile on his face disappeared.

"Kid, don't be ungrateful. This isn't your average private lesson."

He leaned closer: "This will give you the strength and physique you've always dreamed of in the shortest amount of time."

"Not interested," Li Ang replied crisply as always.

"Hey, I'm only telling you this out of kindness." The coach's patience seemed to be running out. "Look at your physique, you're as skinny as a monkey. No matter how much you train, you're just a pretty face."

Li Ang looked at him and suddenly found it somewhat amusing.

"I told you, I'm not interested." Li Ang turned and left.

"Ungrateful wretch," the coach clicked his tongue.

Li Ang ignored them and walked towards the bench press rack.

The little incident just now did not affect his mood.

With no one on the bench press rack, Li Ang allocated his free attribute points to strength.

[Increase successful, current strength: 14]

He felt a surge of new power within him and began adding plates to the barbell.

Forty kilograms, fifty kilograms...

Instead of pushing his limits, he increased the number of sets one by one, feeling the muscles working with each press.

He once again drew everyone's attention.

"Is this guy crazy? Using this weight for a warm-up?"

"Look at his small frame, I hope he doesn't get crushed on top of it."

When the weight of the barbell increased to 100 kilograms, he could feel a significant increase in pressure on his chest and arms.

He lay on the bench press, his hands firmly gripping the barbell.

Up!

The barbell was slowly pushed up, past its highest point, and then fell smoothly, lightly touching my chest.

Rise again!

Li Ang did not stop and continued working.

One, two, three...

By the time I got to the fifth one, my arms started to tremble.

He knew he was nearing his limit.

In the world of cultivation, every breakthrough to the limit signifies an advancement in one's Dao heart and cultivation level.

The same applies here.

The sixth one!

"Hey buddy, need any help?"

A cheerful voice rang in Li Ang's ears.

A dark-skinned, smiling young Black man appeared behind him at some point, steadily catching the falling barbell with both hands, lifting it up for him, and placing it back on the rack.

"Thanks," he said sincerely, looking at the young Black man.

"Dude, don't be shy." The young black man grinned, revealing a set of white teeth.

He looked Li Ang up and down: "You're very strong, brother. Many people can't even do this weight in one set."

Li Ang noticed a line of red light floating above his head.

[Cutoff threshold: Low (good health, high energy)]

This line of text surprised Li Ang.

Why would a healthy, energetic person have a "low" cutoff score that represents danger?

"My name is Mike," the young Black man said, extending his hand.

"Li." Li Ang shook hands with him and glanced at the black man's hand.

Mike's palms were covered in calluses.

"Do you come here often? I've never seen you here before," Mike asked curiously.

"This is my first time here."

"No wonder," Mike said, suddenly realizing. "Judging from your training posture, I thought you were a pro from some gym."

Mike's voice was cheerful, and his smile was bright: "Brother, your training method is wrong, it's too intense, you're likely to get injured."

He pointed to the counterweight on the barbell.

"One hundred kilograms, and you're using this to warm up?"

Li Ang remained silent; he couldn't very well say that he was testing his limits.

"I saw you do five pushes, very standard," Mike continued, "but you ran out of energy on the sixth one, that's typical exhaustion. Remember to have a partner watch you next time."

A warm-hearted, healthy, and energetic young man.

What exactly caused his kill threshold to drop to a dangerous "low" level?

This is something Li Ang can't understand.

"Oh, by the way, you just turned down 'The Beast,' right?" Mike said in a low voice.

"A behemoth?"

"That's the coach who tried to sell you something earlier," Mike said, pursing his lips. "He used to be a pretty good bodybuilder, but then he started using drugs to take shortcuts."

"The stuff he sold, he called it 'Nine Dragons Pulling a Coffin,' claiming it could make people rise to the top in one step, but it was actually a deadly contraption."

When Li Ang heard this word, he almost burst out laughing.

It turned out to be the case.

No wonder they used nine different kinds of "Blood Burning Powder".

"Many new guys who are eager to see results have been scammed by him," Mike sighed. "After taking that stuff, the effects are indeed obvious in the early stages, and muscles grow very quickly, but in less than six months, the person is ruined."

"Hair loss, acne, heart failure, all sorts of problems have appeared."

"So, stay away from that guy."

Li Ang nodded, his liking for the young black man growing even stronger.

"Your name is Li, right? Chinese?" Mike looked Li Ang up and down curiously. "You don't look particularly muscular, but you're surprisingly strong. What did you train in before?"

"I've practiced farming for a few days," Li Ang casually made up.

"Farmer?" Mike scratched his head, clearly not understanding. "Does it mean...farming?"

"almost."

Mike was amused by the answer and grinned, revealing his white teeth.

"Dude, you're really funny."

He picked up two bottles of water from the shelf next to him and handed one to Li Ang.

"The gym has free water and showers."

Li Ang didn't stand on ceremony, took the bottle, unscrewed it, and took a sip.

"And you?" Li Ang asked. "You look like you're doing very well."

"Me?" Mike pointed to himself, puffing out his chest proudly. "I'm still studying, and I often work as a porter."

No wonder.

That makes sense.

No wonder he has calluses on his hands from doing manual labor.

"Hey bro, you're doing pretty well in this workout. Want to train together?" Mike invited. "I'm working out my chest today, and I need a partner."

Li Ang thought for a moment and nodded in agreement.

Since the system can be improved by adding points, will training the original body also improve it?