18: Chapter 18 Power

Eleven days have passed since he first perceived Spiritual Qi.

In these eleven days, he had traversed every inch of the land in the back mountain.

Dozens of observations had repeatedly verified every deduction.

Now he could say with great certainty: in this world, no one understood Spiritual Qi better than he did.

It was not because he was smart, but because he had the ability.

The ability to actively perceive and absorb it was equivalent to giving him a special pair of glasses that could see this "new color," Spiritual Qi.

Meanwhile, everyone else was still blindfolded.

However, he was also clear that these glasses were not omnipotent.

His observation range was limited to the few dozen kilometers around the back mountain, and his samples were only these few peaks, these plants, and these animals.

Did Spiritual Qi exhibit different behaviors in other places?

Was there a concentration effect in famous mountains and great rivers?

Under different climatic zones, altitudes, and geological conditions, would the growth curve of particle density remain the same as in the back mountain?

These questions could not be answered in the back mountain.

He prepared to go out and see for himself.

Chen Mo stood up, walked to the whiteboard, picked up a pen, and added three items to the "To-Do List" in the bottom right corner:

Observation of Spiritual Qi in famous mountains and great rivers.

Investigation of Cultivation Technique in ancient temples and Taoist monasteries.

Exploration of the core area of the Shennong Mountain Range.

He first drew a line under Shennong Mountain Range with his pen.

This one was the closest.

The core area of the Shennong Mountain Range was a true primeval forest.

There were Leopards, Black Bears, herds of wild boars, and other ferocious beasts.

Previously, he didn't dare to enter.

He couldn't win, and it was dangerous.

When his punch strength was three or four hundred kilograms, if he ran into an adult wild boar head-on without a weapon, his chances of winning were at best fifty-fifty.

But now, it was different.

He looked down at his hands.

Six days ago, his punch strength was 567 kilograms, with a Force Multiplier of 1.5 times, making his actual punch strength 850 kilograms.

At that time, he could punch through a red brick wall and leave a fist print on reinforced concrete.

And now?

His punch strength was 917 kilograms.

As his control continued to improve, his Force Multiplier had increased from 1.5 times to 1.6 times.

In other words, the force of his full-power punch now was 1,467 kilograms.

Nearly one and a half tons.

He clenched and unclenched his palm, feeling the substantial power between his knuckles.

What was the concept of one and a half tons?

An ordinary family car weighed about that much.

And when he threw this punch, it was equivalent to the weight of a car concentrated on an area the size of a fist.

His speed was also increasing.

His peak speed had increased from 16 meters per second all the way to 22 meters per second.

22 meters per second was 80 kilometers per hour.

He could finish a hundred-meter dash in less than five seconds.

This speed was nothing on a highway.

But this was achieved on two legs.

He was already faster than the vast majority of four-legged animals on Earth.

He walked to the back of the old house and chose a section of wall that hadn't been ravaged yet.

This time, it wasn't a red brick wall, but a load-bearing pillar made of reinforced concrete with a steel cage inside, exceeding forty centimeters in thickness.

It was the sturdiest pillar in the old house.

He adjusted his breathing and focused his attention on his right fist.

Full power.

He pushed off the ground, and the force rebounded from the ground.

His knees, hips, and waist twisted in sequence, his body like a spring tightened to its limit, releasing instantly.

When he threw his right punch, he even heard the sound of his fist tearing through the air.

It wasn't the sound of wind, but the air compressed in front of his fist being squeezed so tightly that it couldn't escape, emitting a dull, explosive sound.

Boom.

The sound was completely different from hitting the red brick wall.

Hitting the red brick wall was a "Boom—clatter," with broken bricks flying everywhere.

Hitting this load-bearing pillar was a "Boom—crack," the sound low and muffled, like thunder.

As his fist landed, the concrete instantly exploded.

It didn't just crack; it exploded.

Fist-sized chunks of debris splattered in all directions, revealing a dense web of cracks radiating outward from the center, with the longest one extending nearly thirty centimeters.

At the very center of the fist print, the concrete was shattered directly, exposing the twisted and deformed steel bars inside.

The steel bars didn't break—his punch wasn't enough to snap them—but they had been bent inward, forming the arc of a fist.

He retracted his fist and shook the stone debris off his fingers.

There were a few red marks on his knuckles, but the skin wasn't broken.

He cracked his hand back, moved his five fingers, and felt no pain; his joints had no discomfort at all.

His forearm felt a little warm, but not sore or swollen.

The power of this punch was already greater than the kinetic energy of a small-caliber rifle bullet.

The kinetic energy of a rifle bullet was about 2,000 joules; his punch, based on a striking force of 1,467 kilograms, was at least over 3,000 joules.

Moreover, bullets relied on penetration for lethality, while his punch relied on blunt force.

The destructive power of blunt force was incomparable to that of a bullet.

If this punch landed on a tiger—

"A tiger's bones are very hard, but its skull can only withstand a direct shot from an ordinary pistol bullet."

Chen Mo was confident that if he punched a tiger's skull, the bone would shatter.

Even if he hit its body, the impact would shake its internal organs into a pulp.

As for humans—

He didn't think any further.

He had already thought about it a few days ago, and the conclusion hadn't changed: humans were too fragile; with his current strength, a graze meant death.

He took a deep breath, looked at the load-bearing pillar he had smashed, and felt very calm.

Before obtaining his ability, he probably would have been shocked and found it unbelievable.

Now, that was gone.

He was already accustomed to this feeling.

When the yardstick for strength changed from "how strong a person is" to "how fierce a piece of construction machinery is," all his previous emotional anchors had become invalid.

He no longer needed to use emotions to respond to these data points.

He only needed to do one thing: continue to grow stronger.

Strong enough to calmly face any danger, strong enough to go anywhere he pleased, strong enough to protect himself without relying on any external force.

The next step was to walk into that mountain.

He looked up at the layered ridgelines behind the house.

That was the direction of the main ridge of the Shennong Mountain Range, a primeval forest stretching for hundreds of kilometers, rarely visited by people and rampant with ferocious beasts.

He needed to go and see.

It was for information.

He needed to know in what direction this world was changing.

What changes were happening to the animals and plants living in the same world as him.

He needed to know what was different in that true primeval forest.

More importantly, he needed to verify one thing: in those towering peaks and ancient forests, would Spiritual Qi exhibit different behaviors?

Would it break the rules he had summarized?

Would entirely new phenomena beyond his cognition appear?

These questions could only be answered by walking into the Shennong Mountain Range.

Chen Mo returned to the Main Hall and began to pack his equipment.

A hiking backpack, compressed biscuits, glucose powder, peanut oil, a water bottle, climbing rope, a machete, and a compass.

He packed the items into his bag one by one; his movements were not fast, but he placed each item securely.

After finishing, he did one thing in his notebook.

He temporarily set aside the three columns of "Strength," "Speed," and "Practical Combat Technique."

In the center of the notebook, he wrote a striking line in large letters: "Shennong Mountain Range: Go verify what you have clearly seen, and go see what you haven't seen."

After writing it, he stared at this sentence for a long time.

Then he picked up the pen and added a line of small text below, writing it even more forcefully than the sentence above:

"Everything is based on personal safety as the bottom line."

He put down the pen.