97: Chapter 98 Grandmaster Aura

Speaking of developing one's own power,

Lu Chen couldn't help but recall the most primitive fighting techniques from his past life.

Although he had never formally studied them,

during his adolescence,

he had looked through a lot of information.

He had watched no less than thousands of hours of videos.

Chinese Kung Fu, Western combat, Southeast Asian boxing—all sorts of fighting techniques.

He had explored them all.

What young boy hasn't dreamed of being a hero?

At this moment,

these memories from his youth

surfaced in his mind like a slideshow.

His brain was like a highly sophisticated supercomputer,

recalling those images frame by frame.

As his own power grew

and his Mental Energy increased,

he could easily retrieve these memories buried in the passage of time

and reconstruct them in exhaustive detail.

Lu Chen closed his eyes.

The Sea of Consciousness was pitch black,

but bright images began to take shape.

Within the images,

figures were fighting in the ring,

sparring in dusty bamboo courtyards,

and battling on rooftops under a steady drizzle.

Every detail,

every nuance of every movement,

was reproduced with perfect realism.

Frame by frame, second by second,

as if frozen in time.

Not only were the images reproduced,

but the techniques within them were as well,

transforming them into human silhouettes

that hovered in his mind,

forming three-dimensional holographic projections.

While observing those movements,

his brain was also operating at high speed,

constantly questioning himself.

What did he want?

What exactly was he pursuing?

Gradually, an image bloomed,

providing the answer.

It was a faceless silhouette,

full of heroic spirit and vigor,

with agile movements.

Every punch and kick was delivered based on the most perfect biological structure and mechanical rhythm.

Every strike was perfectly timed,

as if it had been contemplated countless times,

without wasting a single shred of effort.

Fighting against him,

one did not see a person,

but a fist,

a movement,

a concrete manifestation of combat itself.

This image was deeply rooted in his marrow.

He extracted it,

forming a core concept.

Now the most difficult part was solved;

next was to fill in the specific movements.

The first thing Lu Chen thought of

was to take apart all the fighting techniques he had ever seen,

fuse them into a chimera,

and then slowly refine them, discarding the dross and keeping the essence,

making them his own.

Classic movements drifted past his eyes like a whirlwind:

Western fighting techniques, Southeast Asian boxing, the military combat art Krav Maga, Karate, Taekwondo, Xingyi Quan, Baguazhang...

Finally, they began to slowly merge.

Lu Chen sat cross-legged like a lonely ascetic,

as if surrounded by imaginary enemies.

Then,

he slowly stood up

and stepped forward.

There seemed to be an invisible circle before him;

within that circle, he possessed absolute control.

Every strike

killed the enemy in one blow.

Any conceivable angle of attack was neutralized by him one by one,

and all hostility was laid bare.

Slowly,

those Moves of different styles began to undergo Fusion.

The transitions between each Move became smoother,

gradually beginning to integrate

and developing its own rhythm.

Several hours passed.

The white combat suit on Lu Chen's body clung tightly to his skin,

drenched in sweat.

At this moment,

the entire training room seemed to disappear.

Within his mind,

all the imaginary enemies merged into a single figure,

sparring with him using the same Moves.

The same punches, elbow strikes, dodges, hooks, knee strikes, steps, spins, twists...

During the process,

Lu Chen rearranged the sequence of his Moves bit by bit

and made slight adjustments—position, force, center of gravity, point of impact...

At the same time,

the power he used began to increase bit by bit.

100 kilograms.

1,000 kilograms.

10 tons.

100 tons.

10,000 tons.

...

Until a punch of 300,000 tons was thrown.

The surrounding air did not vibrate in the slightest.

All the power was contained within the fist,

focused on a single point with the precision of a surgical scalpel,

yet could be released and retracted at will.

A force of ten thousand juns swept through the air, yet not even a feather was disturbed.

At this point,

his goal had been achieved.

He could now fully unleash his strength

without fearing that he might accidentally destroy the entire city.

And unlike sword techniques,

this Cultivation Technique was the most basic and primitive of hand-to-hand combat.

It had no upper limit.

Even if his power increased a billionfold in the future,

he could still master every bit of his strength through this most basic fighting technique.

Lu Chen continued practicing until nightfall,

feeling his mind become clear.

The more he practiced, the smoother and more powerful it became,

even completely surpassing the fighting techniques of his past life

to form a style of his own.

Lu Chen gave this basic fighting technique a simple and easy-to-understand name:

Great Strength Punch.

A fist that developed and strengthened one's own power.

It wasn't a simple stitching together of various fighting techniques,

but an innovation that surpassed its predecessors.

The footwork was fantastical,

and every Move subdued the enemy.

Every movement contained lethal offensive power,

yet it was as restrained and introverted as water, controlled at will.

In the ebb and flow of his internal force,

it could directly take their lives

or leave them completely unharmed.

The deduction ended.

Lu Chen let out a long breath,

and a faint smile slowly appeared on his face.

This was what he wanted.

A skill worthy of the Lu Family heir,

one that would make the powerful stand in awe and the arrogant humble.