Andrew Han rubbed his pair of reddened palms, flexing his fists and feet to loosen his muscles and bones, letting the flow of blood and energy return to normal. Yet his eyes still held a trace of bewilderment.
He could clearly feel—
Even though he had already stopped practicing the Solar Pillar Stance, the fused strength within his body kept surging, like an endless tide rising, giving him a heavy, weighty feeling.
"Something's wrong."
"First Rank fused strength—fifty percent is the threshold. But even passing that barrier, I shouldn't be feeling such a strange sense of dissonance."
Only thoroughly fused strength can advance into Internal Power.
Before Internal Power, one either relies on stance training to slowly fuse strength, or stalls due to lack of talent, never experiencing such a sudden surge.
Andrew even deliberately opened his Martial Communicator.
Combining his master's teachings with basic knowledge posts in the Communicator, he realized this was an extremely rare phenomenon. Even in the Martial Arts World, there had never been a case of First Rank fusion percentage mysteriously surging like this.
Huff.
Andrew cleared away distractions and calmed his mind.
Crack, crack.
He clenched his hands and shut his eyes, vaguely sensing the frenzied fusion of strength within him, as if reaching some boundary and then triggering an unfathomable transformation.
Yet the outcome remained unknown.
"The rate at which blood-energy and internal strength are merging is too fast—unbelievably fast."
"But regardless, with my body enhanced by Graywhite Aura, even if I evolve Condensed Mist Internal Power right now, it won't be a problem."
Thinking this, Andrew let out a sigh of relief.
A sudden increase in martial strength is always a good thing. Moreover, the current fusion process is advancing in an orderly fashion, without the slightest hint of chaos—it’s probably not a bad sign.
He could sense—
The fusion percentage was skyrocketing at a bizarre rate. Perhaps this was an unprecedented change, or maybe it resembled the Second Rank’s Thirty-Thousand-Pound Strength—a sign of surpassing the very limits.
...
Huff, huff.
The warm night breeze drifted into the dormitory through the open window.
Sounds from the corridor, outside the window, and beneath the dorm building gradually reached his ears... Sometimes someone was rhythmically bouncing a basketball on their way back, sometimes boys were chasing each other, laughing and cursing.
Vague and indistinct, blurred and unclear.
Suddenly, Andrew slowly opened his long-closed, clear eyes, instantly waking up, his gaze filled with shock and uncertainty.
"Huh!?"
"How did I fall asleep!?"
Sweating all over, Andrew's face was flushed, as if blood-energy was surging. He quickly rolled out of bed and landed on the floor—crack!
The iron bunk he had just been lying on made a splintering sound.
Immediately after—
The brand-new iron bunk’s left bottom pillar let out a harsh screech, snapped instantly, shifted out of place, and nearly collapsed.
...
Andrew looked at his bed, a bit dazed.
He hadn’t used much force at all, just casually rolled over. How could he cause such obvious, destructive damage?
It was iron, after all—even if it was hollow.
To control his own strength, he’d always been careful, using stance training to master it. He’d never had an accident, unless his strength suddenly surged and he lost control.
"Strange."
He didn’t bother with whether the iron bunk would collapse further. Instead, he walked into the living room and began carefully sensing the First Rank fused strength within him. What shocked Andrew was—his fusion percentage had skyrocketed to around forty percent!
Just one night’s sleep, and his fusion percentage had jumped by ten percent!
He estimated he’d only slept three or four hours. At this rate, if he slept like this four or five more times, he’d advance straight to Martial Artist.
"No, it’s not just forty percent."
"The fusion percentage of my internal strength is still rising, as if it’s about to break straight through the fifty percent threshold."
Thinking this, Andrew couldn’t help but feel shaken.
Maybe when he woke up tomorrow, his fusion percentage would have already surpassed fifty percent. If this kept up, he’d definitely become a Martial Artist next week.
He pondered for a moment.
The only reason he could think of was that, at Second Rank, he’d possessed over thirty thousand pounds of internal strength.
"Could it be that breaking the martial limit back then boosted my fusion rate at First Rank?"
"Or maybe—"
"It’s simply because my internal strength is so immense, it’s changed the fusion process. Like a waterfall that flows normally at first, but once it drops, the speed explodes."
Splash.
Andrew shook the water bottle in his backpack, took a sip, his eyes thoughtful but without worry.
By now, he was no longer a clueless martial arts novice, and he more or less understood why he’d unconsciously fallen asleep earlier. It must have been the sudden spike in fusion percentage that drained his spirit and energy, causing him to drift off without realizing.
Hoo.
Andrew let out a breath and stretched. "It’s been ages since I’ve slept so soundly. I’ll go out for a bit and grab something to eat."
"Oh, right."
"I wonder if Monica Zhang has eaten yet."
Thinking this, he picked up his phone and checked it. It was already past nine o’clock. Monica Zhang still hadn’t replied to his QQ messages, but Zoe Li had sent several WeChat texts.
Andrew pursed his lips and walked back into the small bedroom of the dorm.
"Sigh."