Courtyard House: My Time Travel is a Bit Too Strong

In the blink of an eye, all four of Zhang Haobai's joints were dislocated.

"Ah—!" The excruciating pain forced him to scream in agony.

"Fight me? You're far from capable," Chung Kwok-hung coldly retorted.

Zhang Haobai, a senior student at the martial arts school, had his hands and feet dislocated in the blink of an eye. All the students in the classroom froze on the spot, holding their breath.

"Brother Hong... your strength?" Luo Feng's throat was dry and his voice was trembling.

When there isn't a significant difference in speed and power, Chung Kwok-hung is an unbeatable opponent.

In the world of American variety shows, even if the opponent is as fast as light, his moves are still as precise as a skilled butcher dissecting an ox, so accurate that they are terrifying.

Having lived for nearly five thousand years in the previous life, what is etched into my bones is a combat instinct honed through countless trials.

Within the reach of his divine sense, even high-ranking warriors might not be unshakeable in his eyes.

His physical abilities are inferior to theirs? But his soul strength is firmly on the threshold of the Domain Lord level.

Super self-healing, super resilience, and a mother box watch by his side—getting injured? He's not afraid at all.

Unable to withstand a high-ranking general's direct attack? Then use internal force to break through the exterior and injure the interior. Over 500 kilograms of explosive force, condensed into a single line, pierces straight through the internal organs. Even if it doesn't kill, it will make him vomit blood and collapse on the spot.

If he were to don the battle armor ring, even a planetary-level cultivator would dare to fight head-on.

However, as a precaution, he does not currently intend to challenge planetary-level targets.

If the armor ring is significantly suppressed in this universe, the outcome will be hard to predict.

"We're all in the same class after all..." Xu Xin stepped forward lightly.

"I'll let it slide this time because we're classmates. But if you do it again, don't blame me for being ruthless." Zhong Guohong lifted Zhang Haobai up with one hand and, with a few well-timed pushes and presses, the dislocated bones were put back in place with a few "clicks".

"Brother Hong, what kind of kung fu is this?" Luo Feng's eyes lit up with astonishing brightness.

"It's an orthopedic technique passed down from our ancestors. If we had to give it a name, we'd call it 'Dislocating Tendons and Bones Hand'," Chung Kwok-hung said with a smile.

"This is incredible!" Luo Feng's heart raced. He had wanted to be a martial artist since he was a child, and this amazing skill in front of him was exactly what he wanted to do.

"Want to learn? I can teach you. But—first you have to be able to feel and recognize all 206 bones in your body, and be able to draw them with your eyes closed," Chung Kwok-hung said calmly. The principle is simple: there are no shortcuts to mastering it.

"You're really going to teach me?" Luo Feng was both surprised and delighted.

"Is it fun to coax you?" Chung Kwok-hung glanced at him, slightly disgusted.

"Thank you, Brother Hong!" Luo Feng quickly bowed.

"If you want to walk the path of a martial artist, the most important thing right now is to build a solid foundation—strength and speed are both indispensable. Dislocating tendons and bones? I'll teach you that slowly once you've truly stepped into the threshold of martial arts," Zhong Guohong said decisively.

"Hmm!" Luo Feng nodded vigorously, then paused, unable to resist asking, "Brother Hong, how much strength do you have now?"

"More than 500 kilograms," Chung Kuo-hung answered frankly.

"How's the speed?" Luo Feng pressed.

"If I sprint at full speed, I can cover about eighteen meters per second," Chung Kwok-hung replied casually.

Speed ​​has two aspects: the speed of physical movement and the speed of neural reaction. His current movement speed hasn't even reached the entry level for martial arts practitioners; but in terms of reaction alone—even planetary-level cultivators are far inferior to him in terms of pure instantaneous response.

However, this reaction speed was hampered by the physical body.

If the body is too weak, it cannot withstand the overload of neural commands; once the reaction is faster than the limits of the muscles and bones, muscle tearing and blood vessel rupture are inevitable results.

Ultimately, the speed of reaction depends on the balance between the strength of the soul and the physical capacity.

When the school bell rang in the afternoon, Chung Kwok-hung slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked out of the classroom alone.

Seeing this, Luo Feng lifted his foot and followed; Wei Wen also walked silently alongside him.

The three chatted idly as they walked briskly toward the low-rent housing area.

After being beaten and publicly humiliated, Zhang Haobai didn't go home but instead headed straight for Zhou Huayang's territory.

Zhong Guohong pushed open the door and immediately saw an old man lying on the bed in the living room.

The room was already small, but they managed to fit five narrow beds in it—specifically for massage, acupuncture, and bone setting.

Father Zhong Shijie was bending over to massage the elderly man's shoulders and neck, while Mother Zhao Qian was cooking in the kitchen, the sound of the spatula turning and the aroma of oil filling the air; younger brother Zhong Guoxiong was huddled in the room, engrossed in reading.

After taking a shower after dinner, Chung Kwok-hung returned to his room.

Close your eyes and concentrate, activating the power of your divine sense to gradually open up the hidden meridians deep within the body.

At 8 p.m. sharp, he turned off the lights, disappeared, and reappeared on the roof of the hospital.

They landed silently, passed through corridors and rooms, and collected blood samples from more than 300 people.

On the return journey, the blood had been quietly delivered to the cloned Earth. Xiaobai took over and began mass-producing clones, while simultaneously testing the efficacy of various serums.

"Normally, it takes a month for a clone to grow from an embryo to maturity."

"But when the time acceleration zone inside Earth is replicated, only one minute has passed outside."

He quietly returned to his own bed and lay down without moving.

Half an hour later, his consciousness sank into the replicated Earth and headed straight to the laboratory to check on the progress.

"The serum I developed in my previous life has completely lost its effectiveness in this world of Swallowed Star?"

After the serum was injected, clones carrying the RR virus either showed no changes or died on the spot.

More than 30,000 clones were cultured from more than 300 original blood samples, and all the recipes were tried—none of them were successful.

"Should we start from scratch to develop a compatible serum, or should we take a different approach and first eliminate the RR virus?"

After a brief deliberation, Zhong Guohong ordered: Xiaobai to reverse-engineer and reconstruct a super serum that truly fits the human body in this world, based on local blood data.

After practicing the "Dragon Elephant Undying Technique" for a while, he went back to his room and slept soundly until dawn.

At 8 p.m. that evening, he entered the cloned Earth again to prepare several kinds of medicinal soups and baths, which were then given to a new batch of clones to try.

The test results showed that none of the physical fitness indicators had changed.

"Perhaps... only medicinal baths and decoctions brewed with native medicinal herbs from Swallowing Star can truly be effective."

The thought had barely formed in his mind when he took out a small white bird and sent it out to gather herbs.

The little white creature vanished in an instant, leaped out of the window, and flapped its wings, flying towards the southwest mountains.

Three days later, the medicinal bath and decoction for strengthening the body finally took shape.

He holds a treasure basin in his hand; whatever medicinal herbs he needs, they will grow in abundance.

"It's almost 1 a.m., I'll practice the 'Dragon Elephant Undying Skill' for another two hours, then I'll call it a day and go to sleep."

The following afternoon, as soon as Zhong Guohong stepped out of the school gate, he was surrounded by more than a dozen young men at the alley entrance.

"Leave one hand, and I'll let you go today." The tattooed man at the head of the group, a cigarette dangling from his lips, tilted his head and sneered.

"What about your two hands?" Chung Kwok-hung asked.

"Sure," the tattooed man grinned.

Before he could finish speaking, Zhong Guohong had already made his move—crackling sounds rang out one after another, and the arms of more than a dozen people shattered simultaneously.

"Zhou Huayang, Zhang Haobai—remember that."

After giving his statement, he walked steadily home.

Tomorrow is Saturday, the whole school is closed, which is a good time to do some cleaning and tidying up.

The next morning, Zhong Guohong went directly to Zhou Huayang's place.

Every move was swift and decisive, unstoppable. In less than an hour, the other party paid out five million Chinese yuan.

He carried the large metal barrel he had just bought, walked through the narrow stairwell of the low-rent housing area, and entered his home.

"Guohong, what's wrong with you...?" Zhong Shijie looked up, his hands covered in medicated oil.