58: Chapter 58 The Head Instructor's "Sparring Partner"
The day after the simulation training ended.
Wang Pingan was in his room digesting yesterday's combat data when his personal terminal suddenly vibrated.
A simple and direct command popped up.
"Student Wang Pingan, proceed to Zero-Gravity Room immediately. Chief Instructor Thunderstorm."
Zero-Gravity Room.
Wang Pingan raised an eyebrow. Without delay, he changed into a clean training uniform and headed straight out.
He passed through the long alloy corridor and arrived at the deepest part of the training area.
A door with no markings, cast entirely from dull metal, blocked his path.
A high-ranking instructor was already waiting there.
Seeing Wang Pingan, he made a "please" gesture with an expressionless face and verified the authorization on the identity scanner.
The heavy metal door slid open silently.
The world behind the door was excessively empty.
In the space of several hundred square meters, there was no equipment. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all integrated silver-gray metal, radiating a cold texture.
Only a burly figure stood in the center.
Thunderstorm.
He wasn't wearing his dignified instructor uniform today, but only a black tight-fitting training vest. His bronze-colored muscles were stacked like granite blocks, full of explosive power.
He just stood there casually, yet a terrifying pressure, like a mountain or a prison, made the air in the entire gravity room become thick.
Wang Pingan walked in, and the metal door slowly closed behind him.
"Chief Instructor."
He stood still, neither humble nor pushy.
Thunderstorm turned around, his sharp eyes scanning Wang Pingan up and down, as if examining an interesting collection piece.
"Kid."
Thunderstorm spoke, his voice low and deep, with a texture like metal rubbing against metal.
"Your performance in the simulated battlefield yesterday was quite good."
"You flatter me, Chief Instructor."
Wang Pingan answered calmly.
"Good?"
Thunderstorm's mouth curled into an arc, but there was no warmth in that smile.
"More than just good."
"It was simply too good."
He took a step forward.
Thud.
The entire gravity room trembled slightly.
That invisible pressure instantly surged several times over, pressing heavily onto Wang Pingan's shoulders.
"Twenty-four hours, over seventy Third Grade elites killed, peak consumption of your own blood energy, 12.7 percent."
Thunderstorm stared into Wang Pingan's eyes, reading out these numbers word by word.
"Do you know what this combat loss ratio represents?"
Wang Pingan remained silent.
"It means you, kid, are acting in front of me."
Thunderstorm's voice suddenly turned cold.
"Every step of yours, every punch, every dodge, was as precise as a calculated machine."
"No wasted movements, no wasted blood energy, not a hint of emotional fluctuation."
"This is not how a teenager who just broke through to the mid-Third Grade a few days ago should behave."
"This is something only a seasoned veteran who has been grinding on the battlefield for over a decade could do!"
Thunderstorm moved another step closer, his tall figure almost completely enveloping Wang Pingan.
"Tell me, Wang Pingan."
"How did you do it?"
The air seemed to freeze.
Wang Pingan could feel a massive aura already firmly locking onto him.
If he said one wrong word, what awaited him next might be a devastating blow.
He looked up, meeting Thunderstorm's scrutinizing gaze, a perfectly timed wry smile appearing on his face.
"Chief Instructor, I was just... afraid of death."
"Oh?"
Thunderstorm looked at him with interest.
"Afraid of death, so I didn't dare waste any strength. Because I knew that once my blood energy was exhausted, I would be facing real death."
Wang Pingan's tone was extremely sincere.
"As for those combat techniques... maybe my talent is just better."
"Talent?"
Thunderstorm laughed.
That laughter echoed in the empty gravity room, sounding particularly harsh.
"What a talent!"
"Kid, I've seen too many so-called geniuses, but you're the first one who can act like this."
"However, it doesn't matter."
"Acting well means you have a brain. Having a brain means you can live longer."
Thunderstorm stepped back and took a stance.
He loosened his wrists, and his joints emitted a series of cracking sounds like popping beans.
"All talk and no action is just for show."
"Since you are so talented, I will personally step in and help you 'polish' yourself."
"I will suppress my strength to Peak Third Grade."
"Let me see just how high your talent really is."
Wang Pingan's heart sank.
He knew he couldn't avoid this test.
"Please guide me, Chief Instructor."
He took a deep breath and set up the starting stance of the Meteor Fist Technique.
Thunderstorm looked at his ready-for-battle posture, the smile on his face becoming increasingly intrigued.
"Ready?"
"Ready..."
Wang Pingan hadn't finished his sentence.
Thunderstorm's figure disappeared from where he stood.
So fast!
Wang Pingan's pupils contracted violently, and his Eye of Truth was instantly activated to its limit.
In his field of vision, Thunderstorm's figure left a faint afterimage, appearing on his left side with a speed that completely defied his burly physique.
A fist the size of a sandpot, just like that, simply smashed toward his ribs.
No blood energy explosion, no battle technique enhancement.
Just pure physical strength and speed.
Yet this punch gave Wang Pingan a suffocating feeling of being unable to dodge or resist.
Without thinking, he activated his Phantom Step to the max, his body shifting horizontally to the right.
However.
That fist followed like a shadow, as if it had already predicted all his movements.
Bang!
A muffled sound.
Wang Pingan felt like he had been hit by a high-speed armored vehicle.
A massive force came from under his ribs, sending him flying sideways, his internal organs misaligned.
His blood energy surged violently.
He hit the distant metal wall heavily and slid to the ground, his throat sweet as he almost spat out blood.
Ribs... at least three broken.
He struggled to stand up, looking at the figure in the distance slowly retracting his fist, his eyes filled with shock.
Is this the strength of the Chief Instructor?
Even suppressed to Peak Third Grade, is he still this ridiculously strong?
"Good reaction."
Thunderstorm commented, his tone as flat as if he were talking about a trivial matter.
"Knowing you couldn't dodge, you used the hardest part of your body to take the hit, unloading most of the force."
"It's just that your body is still a bit brittle."
"Again."
Before the words fell, his figure disappeared again.
This time, Wang Pingan was prepared.
He didn't try to dodge again, instead pouring all his blood energy into his arms, crossing them in front of his chest.
Boom!
Another heavy punch.
A sharp pain came from Wang Pingan's arms, feeling like his bones were about to shatter.
He was blown away again, sliding over a dozen meters on the hard metal floor before stopping.
"The timing of the block and the use of strength were just right."
Thunderstorm's voice came unhurriedly.
"But your blood energy is too scattered."
"Not solid enough."
"Such a defense is no different from paper in front of me."
Next.
The entire Zero-Gravity Room became a one-sided teaching ground for Thunderstorm.
And Wang Pingan was the miserable teaching aid used for the demonstration.
He was blown away time and time again.
Hit the wall time and time again.
Fell down time and time again.
And time and time again, relying on his tenacious will and recovery ability far exceeding ordinary people, he stood back up.
His combat suit had become tattered, his body covered in bruises, blood hanging from the corner of his mouth, his appearance extremely disheveled.
He was like a small boat in a storm, about to capsize at any moment.
However, only Wang Pingan knew.
What he had gained in this inhumane "beating".
His Eye of Truth had never operated so crazily.
Every time Thunderstorm exerted force.
Every flow of blood energy.
Every choice of attack angle.
Every change in combat rhythm.
These combat experiences and techniques, which seemed profound and mysterious to others, all became lines of the most precious data in his eyes, which could be analyzed, copied, and learned!
He was using his body to take the damage.
But using his brain to crazily absorb nutrients!
This sparring partner was so worth it!
Worth even more than those two thousand spirit crystals!
Don't know how long it had been.
Wang Pingan was once again hit by Thunderstorm's whip kick, his whole body spinning like a top as he flew out and crashed heavily to the ground.
He struggled twice but couldn't get up.
He felt like his bones were about to fall apart.
"Is this the end?"
Thunderstorm walked slowly to him, looking down at him from above.
"Your recovery ability is amazing, and your willpower is not bad."
"But that's about it."
"I see your potential clearly now."
His tone carried a hint of imperceptible disappointment.
However.
Just as he turned around to end this "guidance".
Wang Pingan, lying on the ground, his unfocused eyes suddenly refocused!
Now is the time!
In the countless attacks just now, Thunderstorm had deliberately revealed a flaw.
A flaw that could only appear in a state of physical and mental exhaustion and relaxation!
This was a trap.
It was also a test.
Wang Pingan didn't know Thunderstorm's intention.
But he knew this was his only chance!
"Roar!"
A low roar, suppressed to the extreme, burst from Wang Pingan's throat.
He poured all the remaining blood energy in his body, all the data analyzed by his Eye of Truth, and that indomitable will into his right fist!
He suddenly leaped up from the ground.
His body twisted at an incredible angle.
A punch, the most ordinary and basic straight punch from the Meteor Fist Technique, smashed toward Thunderstorm's chest!
This punch looked unremarkable.
But the power on the fist underwent a wonderful qualitative change.
That was the most efficient force-exertion technique he had just "stolen" from Thunderstorm's attacks!
In Thunderstorm's eyes, a hint of genuine surprise finally appeared.
He didn't dodge.
Just set up a faint layer of blood energy defense in front of his chest.
Bang!
The fist landed solidly on that layer of blood energy defense.
No startling loud noise.
Only a muffled impact.
The layer of blood energy on Thunderstorm's body fluctuated violently like the surface of water with a stone thrown into it.
His burly body actually took a step back.
And Wang Pingan was like hitting an invisible wall.
A more ferocious rebounding force rolled back along his arm.
Crack!
The bones of his entire right arm shattered inch by inch.
He opened his mouth and spat out a large mouthful of blood mixed with internal organ fragments.
His whole body, like a kite with a broken string, flew backward over a dozen meters.
In mid-air, his eyes rolled back, and he "fainted" cleanly and neatly.
The gravity room returned to silence.
Thunderstorm looked down at his chest, then at the unconscious figure in the distance.
The eternal coldness on his face slowly melted.
Replaced by a hint of extreme excitement.
...
When Wang Pingan woke up, he found himself lying in a white medical capsule.
His whole body felt warm, and his broken bones and damaged internal organs were healing rapidly under the nourishment of the high-concentration repair fluid.
He moved his fingers, and a data pad next to him lit up.
There was only one line of text on it.
It was left by Thunderstorm.
"Kid, interesting. Your potential is far more than this."