10: Chapter 10 Fourth-Rank Martial Master

When he returned to the East City Agency, the people in the lobby smelled him and made way for him.

No one could blame them.

Mud, blood, and the stagnant water from the reed marshes were smeared all over his body, making him stink wherever he went.

A big guy waiting to accept a mission covered his nose and moved three steps to the side, mumbling, "Holy shit."

Li Zhengyang walked to the front desk and dumped the twelve tail stingers onto the counter with a clatter.

Liu Ting stepped back half a pace.

"D017, twelve of them, all cleared."

Liu Ting counted the tail stingers with the tip of her pen, entered them into the system, looked up at him, and pinched her nose as she asked, "Sixty thousand, to your card?"

"Sure."

The money arrived.

After leaving the agency, there was a sporting goods store diagonally across the street. Li Zhengyang went in and came out three minutes later, carrying a bag of clothes.

A black quick-dry T-shirt, sweatpants, and running shoes cost him three hundred and twenty in total.

Then he took a taxi to Longquan Bathhouse in the North City.

Longquan Bathhouse was an old-fashioned bathhouse; the main hall was twenty, and a private room was sixty.

Li Zhengyang paid sixty for a private room and locked the door from the inside.

It was a small cubicle with a showerhead, a plastic stool, and a foggy mirror on the wall.

He didn't rush to wash up.

He took out his phone first to do the math.

The mission bonus was sixty thousand. The money scraped off the four robbers added up to a little over one hundred thousand.

Plus the little bit of change he had left before.

In total, he had about one hundred and seventy thousand that he could use.

After deducting the costs for clothes, the bath, and the taxi, he had one hundred and sixty-eight thousand left.

Li Zhengyang didn't hesitate for even a second; he deposited all one hundred and sixty-eight thousand.

Save money? Like hell he would.

A 4th Rank Martial Artist's fists were the most reliable way to make a living.

The system interface lit up, and he entered the amount: 168000.

Confirm.

[Top-up successful!]

[Top-up amount: ¥168000]

[Obtained Qi and Blood Value: +1680]

[Current Qi and Blood Value: 4128]

[Qi and Blood Value threshold breakthrough detected]

[Realm breakthrough: Second-Rank Martial Master → 4th Rank Martial Artist!]

Two levels jumped at once.

His spine felt like it was exploding first.

This time it was twice as intense as the last.

The last time he crossed from Martial Artist to Martial Master, it had been painful enough; this time, breaking through two ranks at once, his Qi and Blood rampaged through his meridians, his bones let out a continuous series of sharp cracks, and his internal organs were repeatedly washed by his Qi and Blood.

Li Zhengyang sprang up from the stool, biting his tongue to endure the excruciating pain.

It hurt for five minutes.

The detoxification began; black, sticky grease oozed out of his pores, thick enough to stretch into strands, and the foul stench hit his brain.

Li Zhengyang climbed up, turned on the shower, and poured water from head to toe.

He washed for half an hour, dried himself off, and put on his new clothes.

4th Rank Martial Artist.

Three days ago, he was still just a Martial Apprentice, and his teacher had suggested he become a masseur after graduation.

Three days later, a 4th Rank Martial Artist.

In the entire Martial Arts Technical College, even the strongest among the teaching staff wasn't much stronger than him.

Li Zhengyang twisted his wrists, his joints popping in a series of snaps.

He grabbed his spear and left the bathhouse, heading home.

After breaking through two ranks, his body needed rest to consolidate his realm.

When he reached the bottom of his apartment building, he saw them from over twenty meters away from the entrance.

Three people were squatting at the entrance.

Cigarette butts were scattered all over the ground, and four or five empty mineral water bottles lay nearby.

At a glance, it was clear the three of them had trained.

"Damn it, I'll say it again. I arrived at nine in the morning; what time is it now?"

The fat man in the floral shirt slapped his thigh. "Ten hours. We've been squatting here for ten hours waiting for a poor student. I didn't even wait this long for an eight-hundred-thousand debt collection last year."

The tall, thin man next to him, dangling a cigarette from his mouth, replied listlessly, "Who told you not to bring a folding stool?"

"I'm here to collect a debt, not to go fishing!"

The tall, thin one flicked his cigarette butt away and switched legs to squat on. "Do you think this kid actually ran away? If a debtor runs, how are we supposed to find him?"

The fat man curled his lip. "He can't run. His household registration and student records are all here. If that doesn't work, we'll go block him at the school gate tomorrow."

"What if he does?"

"What if my ass. If he runs, it's coming out of your salary."

As the two were bickering, the man leaning against the wall spoke up.

"Shut up, both of you."

He was around thirty, wearing a dark jacket with his hands in his pockets, and hadn't said much from start to finish.

The short, fat man and the tall, thin one immediately went silent.

Qian Long, a 3rd Rank Martial Artist.

He was specifically responsible for debt collection orders at the company.

The company didn't know what they were thinking sending him today, and even made him bring two extra people.

A 3rd Rank Martial Artist lineup for a student who owed money.

Even Brother Qian felt it was ridiculous, but since the boss had spoken, he might as well come.

"He's here."

Qian Long said those two words.

The fat man and the tall, thin man turned their heads at the same time.

Under the streetlights, a young man was walking towards them, carrying a spear.

In a black T-shirt, sweatpants, and running shoes, with a silver-white spear on his back, he didn't look like the same poor student in the faded school uniform from the file at all.

"Li Zhengyang?" The fat man stood up and called out the name.

"That's me. What is it?"

"The Speed Loan Treasure debt, surely you haven't forgotten? A ten-thousand loan, four days overdue, twelve thousand including principal and interest."

Li Zhengyang nodded with an understanding expression, then patted his pockets.

Left pocket.

Right pocket.

He checked them both; they were empty.

"Look, I really don't have any money in my pockets."

The fat man's patience was nearly exhausted. "Cut the crap. A bank card is fine, a transfer is fine."

"Then I have even less," Li Zhengyang said, spreading his hands innocently.

The tall, thin one walked up. "Buddy, paying back debts is only right and proper. If you don't cough up the money today, don't even think about entering this door."

Qian Long didn't speak; he just stood in the back, watching.

Li Zhengyang sighed and scratched the back of his head.

"Alright, let's be straightforward."

"Go ahead."

"That money, it was money from selling photos. Why should I pay it back?"

The fat man: "...What?"

"In other words, I borrowed this money based on my own ability; if you have the ability, come and get it."

It was quiet for two seconds.

Brother Qian moved.

A punch, aimed straight at Li Zhengyang's temple.

A 3rd Rank Martial Artist; his strike was accurate and fast.

If this punch landed solidly, a First-rank Martial Master would pass out on the spot, and a Second-Rank Martial Master would be lying on the ground for half a minute.

Li Zhengyang tilted his head.

The wind of the punch grazed past his earlobe.

Brother Qian's pupils contracted.

A 3rd Rank Martial Artist's full-force punch, and the opponent just tilted his head?

The fat man didn't think so much and rushed up to fight.

A First-rank Martial Master, his fist hammered at Li Zhengyang's chest.

The fist landed on the protective Qi on his chest.

The fat man's wrist bone snapped with a crack.

Before he could even open his mouth to scream in pain, a slap landed on his face.

Smack.

The fat man flew over two meters away, spitting out two teeth along with blood.

The tall, thin one had already pulled out a dagger.

It was useless.

A kick landed on his wrist, and the dagger flew away.

Immediately following that, an elbow strike hit the back of his neck, and the tall, thin man rolled his eyes and collapsed on the ground.

Three seconds from start to finish.

Two First-rank Martial Masters were incapacitated.

Qian Long stepped back two paces.

He stared at Li Zhengyang for three seconds, thinking rapidly.

A slap to send a First-rank Martial Master flying, plus that dodging speed just now.

At least 4th Rank.

4th Rank Martial Artist.

Just over twenty, a technical college student, a 4th Rank Martial Artist.

Debt collection, and he ran into this?

"Brother," Qian Long smiled, smiling very sincerely, "it's a misunderstanding, purely a misunderstanding."

"It's no misunderstanding," Li Zhengyang said, propping his spear on the ground.

"We can talk this over..."

"No need to talk it over," Li Zhengyang looked at him, "I have a proposal, listen to it."

Brother Qian braced himself. "Go ahead."

"Give me another loan."

Brother Qian's smile froze on his face.

The fat man propped himself up from the edge of the flower bed, his mouth full of blood, just about to speak.

Li Zhengyang glanced at him.

The fat man shut his mouth.

"One hundred thousand," Li Zhengyang held up a finger, "Any terms are fine, front-end interest, compound interest, the shadiest ones you have, I'll sign them all."

"Consider it adding to your performance metrics."

Qian Long had been in debt collection for over a decade and had seen all kinds of people, but this was the first time someone had demanded another loan after being beaten up for owing money.

"Brother, are you serious?"

"Do you think I look like I'm joking?"

Brother Qian was silent for ten seconds.

To be honest, if he lent out the one hundred thousand, this kid would most likely not pay it back.

But this kid was only in his early twenties and was already a 4th Rank Martial Artist; he couldn't afford to offend someone like this.

Furthermore, he was just an employee, and the money being lent was the company's money, so why risk his life?

"Wait a moment."

Brother Qian took out his phone, walked to the side, dialed a number, and mumbled for five minutes.

When he came back, his expression was quite subtle.

"They agreed. One hundred thousand, seventy thousand in hand, thirty thousand front-end interest, a daily interest rate of 0.25%, with compound interest for overdue payments. The loan will be issued today."

"Transfer it."

Two minutes later, his phone rang.

Seventy thousand arrived.

The tall, thin man supported the fat man as they walked out of the apartment complex, and when they passed by Li Zhengyang, their pace quickened significantly.

After walking twenty meters, the fat man turned his head and asked, "Brother Qian, will we be able to collect this money back?"

Brother Qian didn't answer.

Li Zhengyang went upstairs, entered, and locked the door.

Current Qi and Blood: 4128.

Bank card balance: 70,000.

He stared at the ceiling, the corners of his mouth curling up.

Seventy thousand.

If he topped it up, that would be seven hundred points; he was still a little bit away from the 5th Rank.

Just then, a call came in.

Li Zhengyang saw it was from Director Wang and answered it casually.

"Li Zhengyang, tomorrow is this week's test, don't forget."

...