After descending the stairs, the four split into two pairs and went their separate ways: Zhong Yun and Yang Siqing headed home, while Chen Wen drove off with Yin Yin in their speeder.

Originally, Chen Wen had offered to give Zhong Yun and Yang Siqing a ride, but Zhong Yun declined, not wanting to be an obvious third wheel.

The moment they entered the house, Yang Siqing immediately retreated to the guest room, busy fiddling with something unknown.

Back in his own room, Zhong Yun flopped onto the ** and took a deep breath before connecting to his computer.

Simulation training initiated.

Under the command of a mechanical voice, Zhong Yun found himself standing in a vast, empty arena. As he curiously scanned his surroundings, a figure materialized silently about five meters away.

Without greeting or warning, the figure lunged forward and landed a punch squarely on Zhong Yun’s unsuspecting face.

A searing pain ripped through him. Before he could even cry out, his vision went black.

When he opened his eyes again, the agony was gone, replaced by the cold, mechanical voice: "Challenge failed. Score: Zero."

What?

Zhong Yun could hardly believe his ears. Was it over already? He hadn't even gotten ready.

A surge of frustration rushed up his chest. He wasn't convinced. With a roar, he commanded, "Again."

Thus, he reappeared in the empty arena. This time, as the figure emerged, Zhong Yun was already braced and ready.

The figure charged again. Zhong Yun managed a nimble pivot to evade, but halfway through the turn, he felt his entire waist snap in two.

A flash before his eyes, and then the same emotionless voice announced, "Challenge failed. Score: Thirteen."

Damn it. Zhong Yun was absolutely furious. He had always thought his skills were decent—after all, he was the one who had put Niu Ben, a man twice his bulk, in the hospital.

But reality had slapped him hard with a bucket of cold water. He couldn't even withstand the first move of the opponent in this simulation.

"Again."

For the third attempt, Zhong Yun focused every fiber of his being on his opponent. This time, he finally got a clear look: a hulking brute, a full head taller than him, every inch of his body corded with dense, bulging muscle.

Zhong Yun had never formally studied any combat techniques. Against this **, he was utterly defenseless. After dodging two blows, he was caught in a bear hug and had his spine violently crushed.

The cold voice announced, "Challenge failed. Score: Twenty-one." Zhong Yun gasped for air. The pain was real; in the moment he was seized, he clearly smelled the scent of death.

The sharp crack as his spine was wrenched apart, followed by a violent, agonizing wave—it was an experience that could drive a person mad.

A sliver of doubt crept into Zhong Yun’s heart. I have a good life now, why endure this torture? I have protective gear; I’m already very safe.

But as soon as the thought surfaced, he crushed it. He slapped his own cheeks hard.

"Only the strength held in one's own hands is truly reliable," Zhong Yun told himself. "I must master the most powerful strength to protect myself, to protect my family, and obliterate anyone who dares to offend me."

"Again."

............

"Challenge failed. Score: Forty-nine." The cold voice spoke again, but this time it added, "Fifth challenge failed. Switching to Practice Mode."

Zhong Yun was lying there, trying to catch his breath. Even though this was a virtual space and the damage wasn't real, the sensation of pain was absolutely concrete, leaving a profound, unspeakable mental exhaustion.

Hearing "Practice Mode," Zhong Yun felt a flicker of curiosity. When he stood up, the scene shifted back to the empty arena. He instinctively tensed.

Two figures appeared before him. The taller one suddenly lunged at the shorter one and knocked him down with a punch.

How familiar was this scene? Zhong Yun thought, examining them closely. He recognized the shorter figure as himself, and the other as the opponent he had just faced.

The two figures reset, and the tall one charged toward him again. As he turned to dodge, the tall figure swept a horizontal kick at his waist.

Zhong Yun finally understood how he had lost in the second round.

It turned out this was a full-view playback of his previous combat. Zhong Yun was instantly captivated, watching the video with absolute concentration, terrified of missing any detail.

After watching the replay, he grasped just how abysmal his skill level was—in the presence of a true master, he was less than a child.

When the video ended, Zhong Yun sank into deep contemplation. The images of the fight replayed endlessly in his mind, forcing him back into the heat of combat—how he reacted when the opponent charged, why he responded that way, and what the consequences of that response were.

Eventually, he even started wondering: If I use this move, how would the opponent counter?

Half an hour later, Zhong Yun snapped his eyes open, his gaze blazing with fierce determination.

"Again."

At his command, his opponent, the **, reappeared.

This time, Zhong Yun didn't shatter instantly. Although he was still floundering, teetering under the **'s storm of attacks, he held on significantly longer than in the previous five rounds.

He managed to last five minutes before finally collapsing under a kick to the abdomen and losing the match.

"Challenge failed. Score: Seventy."

Zhong Yun no longer heard the external voice. He lay on the ground, eyes closed, enduring the aftershocks of intense pain while replaying the recent fight in his mind, dissecting every flaw.

Once he had analyzed it, he stubbornly stood up again. "Again."

............

This kind of combat was excruciating. This wasn't playing a game; every strike delivered its pain at one hundred percent, without dilution.

Bones broken time after time, internal organs pulverized repeatedly, noses smashed in ceaselessly…

Zhong Yun felt as if his body had been shattered countless times, the residual agony nearly driving him insane.

Every failure felt like brushing past the Grim Reaper; only those with exceptional willpower could withstand such pressure.

Zhong Yun endured it. Beyond the grave threat the assassin had posed earlier that day, there was also the pride of a transmigrator from Earth fueling him.

Consequently, his progress was monumental. From being defeated in less than a second in the first round, by the tenth round, he could last for ten minutes and even manage to inflict damage on his opponent.

Just as Zhong Yun was leaving the training mode, resolved to defeat his enemy next time, the system announced that today's practice session was concluded.

Ignoring Zhong Yun’s protests, the space automatically disconnected him.

"Damn it," Zhong Yun could barely muster the strength to curse. "Tomorrow..." An overwhelming wave of sleep drowned him.

The room fell silent, save for the glowing indicator light on the computer. Countless invisible energy waves pierced Zhong Yun’s exhausted body, stimulating the long-depleted Yuan within him to begin a slow recovery.

P: Since I've already broken into the top ten and there are still several days left in this week, let's keep pushing for a higher rank. Vote, brothers!

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