In the 90s, you could acquire max-level skills every 14 days.

Chapter 137 Recovering 8,000 Yuan in Debt

"He's also someone who has a grudge against Ma Degui."

Xiao Li's voice came through the receiver, filled with excitement.

"The person who bought that building was Sun Boheng, the discipline inspection secretary of Tongxian United Machinery Factory."

Zhang Yong tightened his grip on the microphone.

"Does this discipline inspection secretary not get along with Chen Guoliang?"

"They're more than just enemies, they're sworn enemies." Xiao Li lowered his voice. "My colleague in Baoding said that Sun Boheng has been watching Chen Guoliang for years. He even caused trouble before, but he never managed to find any dirt on him. This time, the Economic Investigation Department found Ma Degui's account books, which contained details of Chen Guoliang's profit-sharing transactions. When Sun Boheng saw them, he was overjoyed."

"He bought your uncle's building firstly to vent his anger, and secondly because we can't touch the assets inside for the time being, but the buyer can. Once he buys it and hands over the counterfeit oil tools that Ma Degui hid, Chen Guoliang will never be able to recover."

"Besides, our auction was already cheap. The building was appraised at 12,000, and he bought it at the original price, so he made a profit. After deducting the enforcement fees and the fines for your uncle's debts, the court settled the accounts and transferred 8,008 to your civil mediation account."

Zhang Yong was secretly delighted.

8008.

He had only hoped to recover a portion of the 8,420, but he never expected that almost all of it would come back.

"The enforcement judges and economic crime investigators from the Baoding Intermediate People's Court came to Beijing these past two days to hand over the keys to us and complete the formal procedures. Our office is too busy with the inspection, so the judges will come to our office to sign for the keys."

"it is good."

"There's one more thing." Xiao Li's tone changed. "After Chen Guoliang was suspended from his post and placed under investigation, his relatives were also investigated. Chen Ping didn't know about what his father did, so he continued to study normally at your school. Just keep that in mind."

Zhang Yong hung up the phone.

The glow of the lamp in the guard room fell on his face, and he looked down at the panel that silently appeared in his mind.

[Fighting Lv.5: Progress 99% → 100% — Upgrade Complete]

[Fighting Lv.6: Progress 0% (AFK — 30x speed)]

coming.

Lv.6.

He clenched his fist.

A sense of clarity I had never felt before emanated from my knuckles—a precise control over the power itself.

When I fought Zhao Tiezhu at Lv.5, he relied on the burst of power at the moment of breakthrough. The feeling now is completely different.

The power curve of every muscle and the range of motion of every joint are all clearly laid out in my perception.

He stood up from the stool and threw a straight punch.

The force of the punch grazed the lampshade, causing it to sway.

Grandpa Chen was carrying an enamel mug as he came in through the door and glanced at him.

"Yongzi, what are you doing?"

"Hmm—I swatted a mosquito."

Less than ten minutes later.

The open space below Building 8 in Jinsong Residential Area.

Zhang Defa took off his coat, bared his chest, and rubbed his hands together in front of Zhang Yong.

"Alright, you little rascal, all you ever think about is fighting. I can't beat you at anything else, but when it comes to military boxing, you..."

Even if you train for a hundred years, you still can't beat me.

Zhang Yong smiled, didn't reply, raised both hands, and struck a pose.

Zhang De was stunned.

This stance is not the starting position of the military boxing he taught.

The stance is low, with the front hand slightly extended and the back hand protecting the chin. The feet are relatively close together, but the stance is quite stable.

It's a Sanda (Chinese kickboxing) stance.

"Did you learn that from your Coach Yang?"

"Yes, I've learned a little."

Zhang Defa grinned, kicked off with his front foot, and charged forward with a series of straight swings.

This is the standard fighting style of military boxing: fast, straight, and every punch is aimed at vital points.

Zhang Defa is a skilled martial artist.

Zhang Yong dodged the first punch by turning his head.

He raised his elbow to block the second punch.

Then Zhang Defa threw a combination punch, a hook followed by a top hook, and then deliberately changed direction.

Zhang Yong slumped his shoulders, twisted his waist and hips, and slid to Zhang Defa's side, slapping his father's ribs with his right hand.

"Dad, I'm here."

The sound and force were both very light.

Zhang Defa paused, his pupils contracting slightly.

He was a trained man; he knew better than anyone exactly where the blow landed on his ribs and how much force was applied.

If that punch had been delivered in a real fight, he would have taken a real hit.

"Dad, you're too kind."

Zhang Defa stood there, both angry and pleased.

"Again!" Before the words were even finished, a straight punch came flying at Zhang Yong.

Zhang Yong dodged, and the two resumed their back-and-forth greetings.

Aunt Liu, who lived on the third floor, was carrying a washbasin and was about to splash water onto the balcony when she saw this scene downstairs.

"Oh dear! That brat from the Zhang family beat up his dad!"

"Who hit whom? Look carefully!" Old Mrs. Liu poked her head out from behind the door.

Old Zhang was stunned! His son slapped him!

"That's called friendly sparring! Not fighting!"

The two talked back and forth for several minutes.

Zhang Defa had already been hit more than a dozen times on the back.

"You little brat, you you you—"

"Dad, why are you getting so worked up? I didn't even use any force!"

Zhang Yong slapped Zhang Defa on the shoulder again, making a loud "smack" sound.

"Your dad practiced military boxing for three years, and you, who only trained in Sanda for a few days, managed to beat me."

"That was what you gave me."

"Bullshit," Zhang Defa cursed, then turned and went upstairs in a huff.

The underground laboratory of the Engineering Building at Kyoto University.

Zhang Yong arrived at nine o'clock in the morning. When he arrived, there were already a group of people sitting in the room.

Qian Zhiyuan, Wang Guanghui, Lin Ling, along with the four newly enrolled graduate students from the Mechanical Engineering Department and the three undergraduate students from the Electrical Engineering Department, plus the two students from the neighboring Materials Science Department who came to audit classes, made a total of nineteen people. Adding Zhang Yong, that makes exactly twenty.

Zhao Fucai's data was finally delivered by phone last night.

Fang Qiming spent half a day copying down the models and parameters of twelve factories and thirty-four boilers, filling three pages with messy handwriting.

Several classmates have already looked around.

Zhang Yong spread the paper on the workbench and began to trace lines one by one with a pencil.

"There are three types according to furnace type."

He wrote three lines on the blackboard.

"The first type is the Soviet-style water-tube boiler, twelve units. We've worked on this type at the Dongsheng Coal Plant before, so we have a ready-made solution; one unit every two days."

"The second type is the domestically produced chain grate furnace, eighteen units. The structure is simple, just add nozzles, two units per day."

"The third category is the special model." He paused for a moment.

"The First Pharmaceutical Factory in Beijing has two German-made high-temperature and high-pressure furnaces. The parts are DIN standard, and there are no domestic alternatives. Let's put this aside for now."

Qian Zhiyuan quickly took notes in his notebook.

"Teacher Fang, Zhang Yong." Wang Guanghui raised his hand. "There are five people in the electrical group. I have already drafted the selection plan for the temperature control and frequency converter, but we need to see the actual circuit on site before we can make a decision."

"Let's go to the scene first." Zhang Yong turned around.

"The twelve factories are divided into three groups, with six to seven people in each group. The mechanical group is responsible for measuring the furnace, measuring the pipe walls, and recording parameters; the electrical group is responsible for checking the wiring and control boxes; and the testing group is responsible for water quality sampling and flue gas temperature measurement."

"But the biggest problem is—with so many of us, the transportation to and from the airport/train station is a huge issue."

Fang Qiming walked in from the doorway, carrying a file bag in his hand.

"no problem."

He slammed the file bag onto the table.

"I've arranged everything for you."

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