Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Iron Will, Visualization Made Real
In the training grounds, Fang Can, whose body was in an overclocked state, didn’t rush to practice. Instead, he scanned everyone present.
After over twenty minutes of observation, he had already committed the martial arts of most people present to memory.
Fist, leg, palm, saber, spear...
Sword, halberd, staff, club, hook...
Aside from a few whose movements were too fast—leaving only afterimages on his retinas and making them impossible to learn—he had thoroughly learned all the other techniques.
After all, these so-called early-stage martial arts were nothing more than a sequence of physical movements.
They were no different from drawing, dancing, or running. Master one art, and all arts become accessible.
After a short while, Fang Can closed his eyes and took a deep breath to give his brain a moment of rest.
Limited by his body’s physical ’hardware,’ he could only crudely learn and memorize these martial arts for the time being.
Even then, it was impossible to see the so-called Inner Qi just by watching from the outside.
’Just as I thought. I can’t fully grasp the mysteries of this so-called idealist Martial Dao just by watching. I’ll have to experiment for myself.’ Fang Can resolved.
The next moment, he assumed the opening stance of the Thirty-six Tiger Addiction Fist Skill, perfectly mimicking the form shown in the booklet.
’According to Yang Lie, the most important thing is unwavering belief. Only a resolute mind can manifest changes in the body.’
Fang Can recited this internally, trying to imagine a warm current trickling out from his heart’s acupoint and pouring into the next.
Under this self-hypnosis, he seemingly felt a warm current begin to surge.
However, Fang Can knew this was just a placebo effect, like a shaman’s dance. In reality, it was just a hallucination produced by his brain to deceive itself—in short, mental masturbation.
His will unshaken, Fang Can moved, executing the second form of the Tiger’s Hunger Fist Skill. Simultaneously, his mind meticulously visualized the warm current passing through three major acupoints.
In the distance, Yang Lie sipped strong liquor from his cup, eyes narrowed as he scanned the grounds to prevent any accidents.
’Oh? He’s started practicing the fist skill already? His form is decent enough, but what’s the point if he hasn’t even memorized the acupoints? He’s just rushing for results.’
Yang Lie made his assessment, then nonchalantly drained his cup.
Because of Fang Can’s relatively advanced age, he held no hope for this Disciple. Even his instruction was delivered hastily and without care.
Aside from mentioning the main prohibitions, he failed to fully explain other important details. He was clearly just going through the motions, taking advantage of a newcomer’s ignorance.
Three minutes later, after Fang Can had completed a full set of the Thirty-six Tiger Addiction Fist Skill, he felt nothing but the product of his own self-deception. His muscles, however, ached from having performed the entire routine at full strength.
Without a hint of discouragement, Fang Can was like the most devout believer in prayer, his gaze filled with an almost fanatical determination.
The first run-through produced no supernatural results, so he would simply do it again.
In his genius state, his rationality, perseverance, focus, inspiration, luck, and intuition—all these passive traits were elevated in equal measure, enabling Fang Can to suppress any thought of retreat or doubt.
’All I have to do is believe. It doesn’t matter what I believe in...’
’If that’s the case, I don’t give a damn about some "idealist Martial Dao." I believe only in myself...’
’If other people can do it, I’ll do it even better...’
’If there’s any truth to this so-called idealist Martial Dao, then my innate talent for "belief" is second to none.’
...
As Fang Can practiced the forms again and again, a current of thought and will began to rise from the depths of his mind.
Unlike ordinary martial artists, he felt no hesitation, no uncertainty, no doubt about his own talent. Fang Can had absolute confidence in himself.
This stemmed partly from the enhanced aptitude of his genius state, but also from the social climate of the world he came from.
In Fang Can’s past life, cosmic storms had ravaged the globe, giving rise to an endless stream of mutated monsters.
But in response, a number of lucky individuals among humanity awakened superpowers and rebuilt society’s order.
As the new nations were founded by those with superpowers, all positions of authority were monopolized by them. The law, public discourse, finance, manufacturing—they controlled it all.
Through their subtle and pervasive influence, it became a common consensus that people with superpowers were a superior class of human by birth.
And Fang Can, having been born with superpowers in such an environment—one can only imagine his mentality.
He was incapable of doubt or self-questioning. In its place was absolute self-assurance, because those with superpowers were simply different from ordinary people.
As Fang Can trained arduously, again and again, something was happening unknown to all: on a higher dimension, his mental energies began to gather and condense.
Meanwhile, on the panel he had closed, the description field began to update.
Description:
Host’s mental energy has converged. Using the Thirty-six Tiger Addiction Fist Skill as a catalyst, flesh and blood as an altar, consciousness as an anchor, and qi and blood as an offering, visualization and manifestation has commenced.
Commencing manifestation: [Eighty-Eight Tiger Slaughter Grotto Heavens]
Manifestation Progress: 1%→2%→3%...
—Estimated Time: 73 minutes, 21 seconds—
...
As Fang Can performed the Thirty-six Tiger Addiction Fist Skill again and again, the manifestation progress in the description field began to climb steadily.
Fang Can, however, paid no mind to any of this on his attribute panel. He remained focused, visualizing Inner Strength flowing through the specific acupoints in his body again and again.
Finally, after the thirteenth repetition, Fang Can stopped.
Because he had poured his full strength into every move, his muscles were nearing their limit from the continuous exertion and needed time to recover.
Squatting on the ground, he began to massage his muscles, kneading the engorged tissue to prevent soreness the next day.
As he relaxed his muscles, he simultaneously contracted his stomach, bit by bit, to regurgitate the arsenic that was on the verge of dissolving.
HCKK—PTUI!
After spitting the arsenic from his stomach to the side, Fang Can immediately felt that omnipotent, all-knowing sensation vanish.
In its place, feelings of laziness, exhaustion, hunger, drowsiness, and soreness flooded his mind.
’Guess that’s all the "cheating" for today,’ Fang Can thought helplessly.
’I have to find a new method of stimulation before those seven pills are gone,’ he mused. ’Otherwise, I’ll have to rely on self-mutilation to boost my aptitude. That’d be a bloody mess... people might think I wandered onto the set of *Fire Punch*.’
Muttering to himself, he subconsciously opened the panel he had previously ignored. His attention was immediately captured by the changes in the description field.
Something, something... blah, blah, blah...
Anyway... [Eighty-Eight Tiger Slaughter Grotto Heavens] Visualization/Manifestation: 89.2%
—Estimated Time Remaining: 21 hours, 52 minutes, 17 seconds—
Looking at the progress bar, Fang Can recalled Yang Lie’s words. If a disciple could develop a ’qi sense’ within a month, their talent was considered superior.
At this thought, Fang Can couldn’t help but feel a flicker of respect:
’As expected of "superior talent." To think that a mere month of hard work can bridge the massive gap I created with just an hour of cheating. Truly, heroes are a dime a dozen. I mustn’t underestimate them.’
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