On the Martial Communicator, the detailed information for this mission appeared: it required at least one or two Martial Artists to participate.
"Accept."
Andrew Han tapped his finger lightly, his gaze tranquil.
These are just some ordinary Specters, roughly equivalent to the Martial Artist Realm; he estimated he could kill one with a single punch, and they posed no threat to him whatsoever.
However.
He needed to practice circulating Presented Liquid Internal Power in advance, lest he accidentally display its true form during combat.
"Possessing Inspiration, you could say his talent is extraordinary."
"But for a Martial Artist to possess Presented Liquid Internal Power is simply inexplicable. If exposed, who knows what kind of turmoil it would cause."
He was willing to believe there was light in this world.
But he could not deny that people like Mr. Stone were far from rare. If he attracted the covetous attention of several Martial Lords, not even Miles Ning could protect him.
Crack, crack.
Andrew Han clenched his right fist.
Faintly, he could sense the flow of Presented Liquid Internal Power; if he forced its full release, it would far surpass Condensed Mist Internal Power.
However, Andrew Han was still different from a Martial General.
He still could not sheath his entire body with Internal Power—his blood was not strong enough—so he could only trigger Presented Liquid Internal Power in localized bursts.
"That’s actually not bad."
"If I only activate Presented Liquid Internal Power in small areas, even if it shines brilliantly, it can pass as a special technique. No one would guess it’s actually the glow of Presented Liquid Internal Power."
Thinking this, Andrew Han kept clenching his fist.
Crack, crack!
As his muscles and bones trembled, Presented Liquid Internal Power began to burst forth.
Whoosh!
The gentle breeze in the dorm instantly froze. As Andrew Han’s right fist trembled, a stream of energy seemed to burst forth, surging through the air. Invisible shockwaves exploded outward, sending every sheet of paper on the desk flying into the air, displaying his overwhelming power.
"Excellent."
Andrew Han’s eyes lit up.
Presented Liquid Internal Power was truly extraordinary. Even when triggered locally, it was terrifyingly powerful. He drew the curtains and continued experimenting over twenty times, gradually grasping its mysteries.
Strictly speaking—
Internal Power is a form of energy.
It is the energy contained within the human body, beginning as physical strength and gradually refined and transformed. Condensed Mist Internal Power is only the foundation; at the Presented Liquid stage, it becomes truly fearsome, unveiling the true power of Internal Power.
Rip!
Andrew Han struck out with a punch into the air.
Previously, it was just the faint sound of air whistling; now, it had become a scene of surging shockwaves, like a miniature shell bursting from its chamber—unmatched in power.
Just then—buzz, buzz.
The phone on the desk vibrated several times.
Exhale.
Andrew Han exhaled evenly, suppressing the surging Presented Liquid Internal Power, then picked up his phone. It was two QQ messages from Monica Zhang.
'Just finished dinner, what are you up to~'
'Let me know when you’re coming back to Riverford in a few days, you still owe me a meal.'
Right after that—
She sent a long Grass Mud Horse emoji of someone playing with their phone.
Tap, tap.
Andrew Han carefully reached out and tapped the screen: "Mm, just finished martial practice. Typing’s a bit tough lately... my hands are kind of ruined @.@"
This was really hard to admit.
After all, for most martial artists, sudden surges of strength are rare, and they don’t usually break things all the time.
After two or three seconds, Monica Zhang quickly replied: "Is it because of your practice? If your hands are injured, go to the hospital right away. If you’re sick, get treatment—don’t just tough it out."
"..."
Andrew Han was silent for a moment.
What hospital could treat the problem of excessive strength? He’d have to slowly learn control himself. Besides, ordinary hospital syringes probably wouldn’t work at all for anyone above the Martial Artist Realm.
The Martial Artist Realm is focused on blood refinement.
The thickness and toughness of the blood vessels could easily block a standard needle.
Buzz, buzz.
Monica Zhang sent a little black monster emoji, its head tilted. She was clearly worried, but didn’t know how to express it.
Andrew Han typed back: "It’s nothing, I’ll be fine in a couple days."
"Mm-hmm, that’s good." Monica sent a black-and-white cat staring emoji. "By the way~ my dad asked about you this afternoon, wanted to know why you didn’t come back with us."
"He even wanted to call you."
"But I stopped him."
Huh?
What’s Uncle Zhang up to?
Andrew Han wondered, then decided to be honest: "Monica Zhang... I always feel like your dad has it in for me. I’m a little nervous—what should I do in the future?"
Though he was a martial prodigy—
Being prodigious didn’t mean he was omnipotent; there were plenty of problems that strength alone couldn’t solve.
After a while—
Monica Zhang giggled, happily applying a whitening face mask and rubbing her smooth, creamy hands: "Don’t worry, don’t worry. He can’t beat you anyway."
"???"
Andrew Han was speechless.
This wasn’t really about strength, and Monica’s attitude seemed a bit off... He shook his head, packed up his clothes and toiletries for tomorrow’s trip, then lay down on the bed.
Creak.
The iron bunk bed gave a soft groan.
In the quiet campus environment, with the sounds of kittens and puppies outside the window, and the occasional footsteps, Andrew Han gradually fell asleep.
At the same time—
At Monica Zhang’s home in Riverford.
Ahem, ahem.
Zhang Luoyu coughed twice, studied his daughter for a moment, and tentatively asked, "Why isn’t that Andrew Han coming home for National Day? Where’s he planning to go?"
"No idea." Monica Zhang peeled off her face mask and blinked her pretty eyes.
She was a little wary.
Could Dad really have it out for Andrew Han...? This was serious—she’d have to think it over carefully.
"He’s probably studying his major."
"Yeah, Andrew Han is super hardworking—he barely eats or sleeps. Everyone in our class admires him." Monica tossed aside her mask, adding two more sentences to try to fix her dad’s impression of Andrew.
As soon as she finished speaking—
Zhang Luoyu’s heart skipped a beat, but he smiled nonchalantly: "Oh, I thought Andrew Han went to the academy to find a girlfriend, so he’s traveling for the holiday."
Huh?
No way... That’s impossible!
Monica Zhang pursed her lips, feeling inexplicably unhappy, and shook her head repeatedly: "I really don’t know."
"Okay, get some sleep early then."
Zhang Luoyu nodded, already understanding, closed the bedroom door, and paced the living room with his hands behind his back, quietly considering things.
This chapter isn’t over yet~.~ Please click next page to continue reading!
—
The next morning, Yangnan Town.
It was October 1st, the start of the holiday, and the streets were bustling with cars and people—more crowded than usual.
Across from the Yangnan Hotel, the street was packed with people.
On this not-so-wide sidewalk, there were all kinds of small vendors and neat storefront shops.
"Mom, Mom, I want ice cream!"
A little boy, bouncing along in a black T-shirt, held his mother’s hand and gazed longingly at the ice cream window.
"Be good, we’re not buying any. We have plenty at home." The middle-aged man patted the boy’s head.
"No, I want it! Buy it for me!" The boy protested, and after a while, simply lay down on the ground to make a fuss.
Across the street—
A middle-aged couple quietly watched the scene unfold.
They were a Martial Artist Realm couple, married for seven or eight years. Their feelings had once been deep as a pool, but lately, things had begun to change.
The man coughed: "We can’t raise our child like that."
"Hmph."
"Children should be spoiled. If it were me, I’d buy him whatever he wanted." The woman, about twenty-eight or twenty-nine, with fair, delicate skin from frequent care, pursed her lips.
The woman glanced at the man and said nothing more.
Whoosh.
Occasional breezes drifted past the two of them, seeming to paint a stagnant atmosphere.
Just at this moment.
Step. Step.
Step. Step.
A crisp sound of footsteps gradually approached.
It was Andrew Han walking toward the married couple. He wore a deep-blue short-sleeve shirt, looking neat and clean under the sunlight. "Brother Shang, Sister Jiao, it's time for us to head to the mine."
Silence.
The man named Harris Shang said nothing.
The woman glanced at her husband, Harris Shang, and walked toward Andrew. "Alright. Andrew, let's share a car."
Uh...
Probably... they're arguing again.
Andrew studied their expressions and quietly shook his head.
Even a wise judge can't resolve family matters.
Besides, he'd only just met the couple and wasn't very familiar with them yet.
It was already 11 a.m. In fact, he had arrived earlier, but spent some time in the hotel discussing details with the other three Martial Artists.
There were a total of four people assigned to this clean-up mission.
The organizer was a young man named Tom Wang, about twenty-eight or twenty-nine years old, already a Middle Martial Artist.
The remaining three were Andrew and the married couple.
......
Vroom.
Vroom vroom.
Two cars, one in front and one behind, pulled away from Southwood Hotel and drove along the busy street toward the mine on the edge of Southwood Township.
Inside the rear car.
A somewhat silent atmosphere filled the space.
Andrew sat calmly and comfortably in the front passenger seat, glancing at the young woman driving—the female Martial Artist, Jodie Jiao.
Jodie Jiao and Harris Shang were a married Martial Artist couple.
But what left Andrew speechless was that, during just over an hour of discussion at the hotel, the two had already quarreled three or four times.
"Forget it."
"I just hope you don't let it affect the mission."
Andrew mused silently, looking out the window at the bustling scenery.
Sigh.
Jodie Jiao sighed, and while waiting at a red light, turned to Andrew with a slightly bitter smile. "Sorry, Andrew, our arguments might have affected you... But we absolutely won't make any mistakes on this mission."
Arguments are arguments.
Once the mission starts, all personal feelings must be set aside.
"It's fine," Andrew adjusted his posture and smiled lightly.
Through brief conversation, he understood that Jodie Jiao had a gentle temperament, and likely just had some misunderstandings with Harris Shang.
The car fell silent again.
After a while, the two cars left the busy streets and headed toward the mine. Jodie glanced at the car ahead and sighed to herself, "We used to be very close."
"But."
"Ever since I got pregnant half a month ago, he's changed."