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

Da Zhuang changed his fighting style, adding front kicks and knee strikes.

Zhang Yong took a lot of hits, but every time he was hit, his body was recording the rules and timing.

In the final round, he attempted a comeback.

Da Zhuang threw a jab, but he dodged to the side, pushed off with his right foot, twisted his waist and hips, and delivered a straight punch to Da Zhuang's chest guard.

boom.

Dazhuang took a step back.

"Okay!" Coach Yang shouted from the side.

Training ended after noon.

Zhang Yong came out of the gymnasium, his whole body aching, but he was in high spirits.

System panel:

[Fighting Lv.0: Beginner Progress: 73%]

At this rate, one more practice session and I'll be able to unlock the basics.

I'm going home to continue writing my book.

……

evening.

Zhang Defa came home from get off work.

"I went to the office today." He sat down at the dining table, took off his hat, and placed it on the table. "Your uncle signed that civil mediation agreement."

"How many did you admit to?" Zhang Yong asked.

"Of the more than eight thousand, after deducting the twelve thousand given to the third and fourth sons, we accepted the rest. We signed the papers and pressed our fingerprints on them."

Zhang Yong nodded: "What about the small building?"

Zhang Defa's expression became even more complicated: "He said... he's willing to sell it to pay back the money. But he has to ask... the younger one's opinion first."

Li Guilan poked her head out from the kitchen: "He's over fifty and still pretending to be so devoted! Does he think he's some kind of ancient Chinese hero?"

"Honey! Stop smoking inside!"

Zhang Defa reflexively shoved the cigarette back into his hand.

……

A residential compound for employees of a large state-owned factory in Baoding.

In a living room on the second floor, Mr. Chen put down the phone and began to write and draw on a piece of paper.

There were a few lines written on the paper:

"Zhang Yong, No. 808, Jinsong Community, rides a Jialing 125 motorcycle every day."

"Frequently visited: Chaoyang District Gymnasium, cotton mill, and gatehouse."

"Next Saturday, Tongxian Winery Tasting Event."

"Sun Lei's neighbor has been reached. Please report your departure time."

Mr. Chen folded the paper and put it in the drawer, then picked up the phone and dialed another number.

"Old Xu, do you have enough manpower for next Saturday's event?"

The person on the other end of the phone was Xu Dacheng.

"That's enough. Don't worry, Brother Chen, this time it's really different. Just wait and see."

Mr. Chen remained silent for two seconds.

"Don't make a move at the distillery. Intercept him on his way there and back."

"become."

The phone hangs up.

Mr. Chen leaned back on the sofa and lit a cigarette.

They ruined his son's plans, cut off Ma Degui's source of income, forced Lao Zhou and Xu Dacheng to close their shops, and even betrayed their own family to send their uncle to the police station.

If this kind of person isn't properly dealt with, there will be endless trouble in the future.

……

The following morning.

Zhang Yong reappeared on the second floor of the gymnasium.

This time, Coach Yang didn't let Dazhuang play.

He put on his protective gear, stood in the center of the field, and stretched his neck, his joints cracking.

"I had Dazhuang accompany you yesterday because I knew your strength," Yang Cheng mumbled, biting down on his mouthguard. "Today I'm coming myself. Go all out, don't hold back."

Zhang Yong stood on the opposite side and got into position.

Group 1.

Yang Cheng feinted with a jab, and Zhang Yong instinctively blocked. However, Yang Cheng's hook came from the other side and slapped Zhang Yong's ribs.

"Don't look at the hand! Look at the shoulder! The punch only comes out when the shoulder moves!"

Second Group.

Yang Cheng swept his leg with a low roundhouse kick, and Zhang Yong raised his knee to block. The moment Yang Cheng pulled his leg back, he delivered a front kick directly to Zhang Yong's abdomen, sending him staggering back two steps.

"Don't stand still after blocking! Your opponent retracting their leg is your opening to attack!"

Group 3. Group 4. Group 5.

Zhang Yong was thrown over a dozen times.

But each time he gets up, he's faster than the last time.

When it came to the eighth group, Yang Cheng threw a jab, and Zhang Yong didn't block it. He sidestepped the punch, pushed off with his right foot and cut into the inside, grabbed the back of Yang Cheng's head with his left hand and pulled him down, and then thrust his right knee up.

Yang Cheng reacted extremely quickly, crossing his hands and pressing down to block the knee strike. But the timing and route of that attack made his pupils shrink.

This is the technique he used just ten minutes ago.

This kid—learning something new and then putting it into practice?

An hour and a half later, Coach Yang called a halt.

He turned around, his back to Zhang Yong, and lifted his vest to look at his stomach.

Another red mark has appeared. It's even bigger than yesterday's.

"...Alright, alright." Yang Cheng took off his vest, rubbed his ribs, and looked utterly exasperated. "That's enough for today. The courts belong to the basketball team this afternoon."

Zhang Yong sat on the foam cushion, panting, feeling like his whole body was falling apart.

But the system panel in his mind invigorated him:

[Fighting Lv.0: Beginner Progress: 98%]

Two points short.

Just two points short.

Zhang Yong stood up from the mat, stretched his shoulders, and grinned at Coach Yang.

"Coach Yang, give me a couple more hits! Are you out of energy? Can't beat me anymore?"

Yang Cheng was pouring water into his mouth when he heard this and almost choked.

"You stand there! One more set! You think you're invincible just because you think you can take advantage of me! Come on!"

Put the kettle down and put your mouthguard back on.

This time he didn't hold back either, feinting with a front kick and then delivering a solid straight punch with his rear hand.

Zhang Yong dodged to the right, and the fist grazed his face.

Yang Cheng followed up with a spinning back kick, his trump card, which was extremely fast and ordinary students couldn't react to it at all.

Zhang Yong's body reacted before his mind.

He squatted down.

The back leg swept past overhead, creating a gust of wind.

Before Yang Cheng could recover from the momentum of his turn, Zhang Yong leaped up from below, delivering a right uppercut that pierced Yang Cheng's abdominal brace.

boom!

Yang Cheng staggered back a step and grabbed the wall for support.

The training ground fell silent.

Da Zhuang and the other trainees were completely dumbfounded.

"Holy shit..." The short, buzz-cut man's mouth gaped open again. "Did you hit him? Did you hit Coach Yang?"

Yang Cheng straightened up, leaning against the wall. He looked down at the dents on his protective gear, then looked up at Zhang Yong.

"You little brat..."

He bit down on his mouthguard, mumbled a curse, and then spat it out.

"Fine! I'm not in good shape today! I'll deal with you tomorrow!"

Zhang Yong stood still, his chest heaving violently, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.

A system pop-up window lit up in my mind:

[Fighting Lv.0: Beginner Progress: 100% - Unlocked!]

[Fighting Lv.1 (Basic Sanda Framework) is activated.]

[Currently available AFK slots.]

It became.

Zhang Yong silently moved the [Auto Repair Lv.5] out of the trailer and moved the [Fighting Lv.1] in.

From now on, every day that passes is equivalent to 720 hours of combat training.

By the time of the tasting event in six days, he should be at least Lv.4 or higher.

By then, let alone street thugs, even if three or five people with proper training came, he would be confident enough to give them a good beating.

……

Zhang Yong straddled the motorcycle, and the engine roared to life.

He was just about to twist the accelerator—

The system [Driving Lv.6: Environmental Awareness] has been triggered again.

About 80 meters behind.

A figure riding a modified 28-inch bicycle appeared at the edge of the field of vision.

It's the same person as yesterday.

Same car. Same following distance.

Zhang Yong's expression calmed down, and he gripped the handlebars tightly in his hands.

The other party wasn't there to fight—if they wanted to, they would have done it already.

They're trying to find out.

Zhang Yong twisted the throttle, and the Jialing 125's exhaust pipe emitted a muffled roar as the vehicle shot forward.

In the rearview mirror, the figure in the baseball cap was left behind in the traffic, growing smaller and smaller.

But Zhang Yong knew that shaking off a follower wouldn't be difficult.

The other party will definitely choose a place that is far from any village or town.

Deal with him.

......