As soon as Chen Shouyi sat down, a waitress approached him:

"Would you like tea, coffee, or another beverage?"

"Just a glass of plain water, please!"

"Of course!" The waitress smiled briefly and soon handed over the water.

He leaned back on the sofa, took a sip from the glass, and assessed his surroundings, marveling at the perks of being a Martial Artist. Unlike his previous experience as a trainee, where he had to queue up early in the morning to register, this felt like VIP treatment.

Here, everything was taken care of without him lifting a finger.

After about three minutes, the same staff member approached briskly: "Hello, your paperwork is complete. Your physical assessment is scheduled for tomorrow at 10 AM, at the same location. Any issues? If tomorrow is inconvenient, the next available slot is in half a month."

"No issue at all!" Chen Shouyi nodded in agreement.

The Martial Arts Assessment is unlike the apprentice assessment, consisting of two exams. The first is a physical assessment, measuring overall physical fitness against a standard. Once passed, the practical combat exam follows, usually involving completing specific tasks within a Spatial Passage for evaluation.

He accepted his ID and apprentice certificate before exiting the building.

The sunlight overhead was a bit harsh, its rays through his eyelashes forming a colorful halo. Observing the busy crowd on the street, Chen Shouyi paused, then entered a cold weapons store near the Martial Arts Assessment Center.

He ignored the real weapons glistening ominously under the lights at the counter, heading instead to the practice wooden swords on the shelf at the entrance, sifting through them.

He hefted each one for weight before selecting one that felt just right.

"How much for this practice sword?"

"It's made of hardwood from another world, heavy and durable like steel, hence the high price." A salesperson explained.

"How much?"

"Twelve hundred!"

After paying, Chen Shouyi left the weapons store.

His fingers traced the rough texture of the sword's handle as he wandered the streets, looking for a place to practice, only to find nowhere suitable.

The city was too hectic, crowded with people, devoid of any quiet spots.

The hotel room was too cramped; practicing at full speed—enough to break the sound barrier—would be disruptive, and any damage would incur hefty compensation.

He wasn't particularly nervous about tomorrow's assessment; there was no reason to be.

His current strength and agility both stood at 13.3.

Expressed numerically, his strength roughly equated to 380 kilograms, far surpassing the 300-kilogram Martial Artist benchmark.

Agility, even harder to enhance for a Martial Artist, had improved more substantially; he was now reacting nearly 40% faster than when he fought the man in black weeks ago, an increase from initially being 30% faster.

Given that the opponent was already a Martial Artist, surpassing the agility standard, it implied his nerve reaction speed likely exceeded the Martial Artist standard by 50%.

That's equivalent to a full point higher.

Nerve reaction speed is a key attribute reflecting combat prowess,

In life-and-death combat, a 50% speed advantage is decisive, neutralizing the opponent before they can react, regardless of their experience or muscle control.

His actual combat capability had long outstripped that of freshly minted Martial Artists.

...

He simply wanted to practice Swordsmanship.

Since losing access to the Spatial Passage, he had been in hiding, refining muscle force in his bedroom, subtly etching muscle memory of various techniques until they became instinctual.

Such slow refinement proved beneficial, as his sword skills improved by three points in a short span.

But just as medicinal preparation requires both patience and urgency, Swordsmanship too demands a balance of tranquility and explosiveness.

All training serves the purpose of delivering explosive power in a critical moment.

...

After a long search, he finally found a place to practice sword fighting: an old house in a small alley.

The building was weathered, with marble walls covered in creeping ivy, and rusty gates festooned with similarly rusted padlocks.

Through the gaps in the iron gate, he saw a courtyard overrun by weeds and a crumbling wooden door, indicative of long abandonment.

Chen Shouyi was puzzled; how had a three-story building in a bustling district fallen to such disrepair? A little renovation could yield substantial rental income.

But it wasn't his concern.

It was perfect for practicing sword fighting.

Checking that no one was around, he effortlessly vaulted over the wall.

Among overgrown grass and a dry pond, animal sculptures coated in moss hinted at the former wealth of the owner, underscoring the property's current value.

Placing his briefcase in a corner, he started with a set of thirty-six body-strengthening exercises before immediately beginning his sword practice.

He closed his eyes and imagined the man in black as his opponent.

Easily executing a high-speed thrust, he followed with a nimble stride, slicing horizontally as he leaped five meters ahead.

No good.

Too weak.

The black-clad man's capabilities must be enhanced.

...

Gales whipped up around as a silhouette moved swiftly, sometimes producing sonic booms, sometimes trailing sword light, flattening surrounding grass and stirring up dust.

A drooping branch shook, its leaves shredded by the sword wave, now left bare.

"Bang, bang, bang, is anyone inside?" A few minutes later, Chen Shouyi heard an old woman's voice.

He stopped immediately.

"Granny, what's the matter?" Chen Shouyi approached the entrance.

The elderly woman's face was lined with wrinkles, her gaze foggy, yet she stared intently at Chen Shouyi, her raspy voice questioning: "Young man, what are you doing in there? Are you courting death?"

"Granny, why? I thought it was quiet here and wanted to practice sword fighting. Is that not allowed?"

"It's haunted! No one knows how many have died here over the years, and still you come? You risk your life."

"Granny, it's all right. I'm not afraid of ghosts," Chen Shouyi chuckled. He suspected as much; no wonder there was a pervasive chill, a sense of eeriness here.

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