Chapter Twenty-Two: Someone Is Here!

Just as Chen Bo was about to make a few remarks, he suddenly noticed that Director Xie was messaging him privately again. There was no need to guess what Director Xie was after; Chen Bo smiled inwardly and accepted the video call.

Before Director Xie could speak, Chen Bo greeted him with a cheerful, “Hey, Director Xie, long time no see.” By now, Chen Bo no longer felt the constraints he once had; he was clear about his own position.

“Um, Mr. Chen. Your manual on artifact forging, and the Ninefold Killing Fist…” Director Xie, seeing Chen Bo’s enthusiasm, found himself momentarily at a loss.

“Say no more, I’ve had them ready for a while now.” As he spoke, Chen Bo produced two books from his system’s space.

When he won them in the lottery, what he actually received were books—the system had kindly imbued their contents directly into his memory for free.

Chen Bo opened the first page of the artifact forging manual and held it up for Director Xie. Knowing what to do, Director Xie immediately took a screenshot.

The manual contained over a hundred pages, and it took Chen Bo several minutes to flip through them all. The Ninefold Killing Fist book had several dozen pages as well, and by the end, Chen Bo’s hands were sore from turning them.

Director Xie was naturally delighted to receive these two treasures. “Mr. Chen, your contributions to the nation will never be forgotten,” he declared with gratitude.

“Oh, come on, spare me the formalities. Just keep my friends and family safe—that’s the greatest reward you can give me. Though, I wouldn’t mind receiving a medal or something, to be honest,” Chen Bo replied with a grin.

“Er…” Director Xie was speechless; he realized his way of thinking was completely misaligned with that of the younger generation.

After bidding Director Xie farewell, Chen Bo fell into thoughtful contemplation. He was now at the mid-stage of Tempered Skin cultivation, capable of exerting over three hundred pounds of force. If he mastered the Ninefold Killing Fist, he could unleash more than two thousand seven hundred pounds of power.

That was more than a ton! He could easily punch a car over; any so-called world boxing champion was nothing in comparison.

While two thousand pounds was superhuman by Earth’s standards, on the Wildlands Continent, Chen Bo was still a mere novice—at best, he could show off in front of ordinary people.

If he wanted to grow stronger, he needed to win pills that enhanced his strength or cultivation techniques from the lottery. But both were extremely rare; luck had its limits—he couldn’t just become a protagonist who always had everything handed to him.

Now, he ought to go train in the Ninefold Killing Fist. Practicing at the Chen family estate was out of the question; if anyone saw him using a technique outside the family’s own, and witnessed its power, things would get complicated.

Even though they were of the same clan, after the incident with the Second Elder, Chen Bo only trusted Chen Zhenhai and Chen Sheng; he had faith in no one else at the estate.

If not at the Chen estate, there was only one place left—the northern district of Yan Town. Few people lived there, just a scattering of villages; it would be easy to find a secluded spot.

Several days later, the Second Elder’s scandal had faded from memory, and Chen Zhenhai was now in complete control of the Disciplinary Hall. His prestige within the family was at its peak—even all the other elders combined could not challenge him.

Early that morning, Chen Bo donned plain clothes and set out for the northern district. The journey was long, so he hired a horse-drawn carriage, and after endless jolting, finally arrived.

Stepping down from the carriage, he felt as if his whole body was falling apart—especially his backside, which had gone numb from the bumpy ride.

Ahead was a dirt road flanked by overgrown weeds. Not far away stood scattered trees, and deeper in lay a lush, dense forest.

The driver dared not go further; the northern district was infamous for its dangers—wild beasts roamed freely, and now and then, even a primal beast would appear.

As a mere mortal, the driver wouldn’t stand a chance against any dangerous animal, let alone a primal beast capable of fighting cultivators.

Chen Bo had to continue alone. There were still villages on the edge of the northern district, but he wanted to venture deeper into the forest. The thought of it struck him as a little wicked.

He drew a longsword—an early-stage treasure weapon—from his system space, knowing he had to stay alert here.

The further he went, the larger the trees grew. Chen Bo even saw a giant tree that would take four or five people to encircle. He marveled at the sight—if such a thing were transplanted to Earth, how much would it be worth?

Taking a deep breath, he assumed the opening stance of the Ninefold Killing Fist. His feet rooted to the ground like an ancient tree, unmoving, his fists clenched.

He began moving slowly, then faster and faster, until the sound of wind and thunder seemed to echo faintly. His fists became blurs—no one could doubt their power.

After completing a full set, Chen Bo was gasping for breath, drenched in sweat, but felt no fatigue—rather, his body felt wonderfully comfortable.

“This is what a martial art should be!” Chen Bo was moved to tears—not by emotion, but because the technique itself felt so good to practice. But the manual warned that when breaking through, the sensation would be so intense it could make one cry from pleasure.

The feeling was akin to the legendary Nine Yang Divine Skill—breaking through required enduring the sensation of being burned alive. Chen Bo couldn’t help but wonder if the creator of the Ninefold Killing Fist had borrowed from that technique.

“Awesome! The streamer is incredible—I’m getting excited just watching!” came a comment.

“Pfft, you’re definitely a guy! This chat’s getting dirtier by the day—shame on you all!”

“The streamer’s skills are way better than those phony martial arts performances.”

“No kidding—it’s called a performance for a reason. Real martial arts are for killing, not show.”

“Streamer is way more badass than my Taekwondo coach!”

“Modern Taekwondo is all flashy moves with no substance. If you want real combat techniques, join the army! Otherwise, what you learn is useless. I used to be Korean, by the way.”

“Goodbye, Korean friend!”

“Why do you all keep getting off topic?” Chen Bo chuckled wryly. His viewers were beyond hope—especially the newcomers, corrupted within days by the old-timers, all acting like seasoned veterans.

“Even though I’m not tired, I’m super thirsty, and I’m drenched in sweat. I’d better find a place to wash up,” Chen Bo said, glancing at his sweat-soaked clothes.

Soon enough, he found a pool of water. It wasn’t hard—he’d heard the sound of a waterfall from a distance, and sure enough, there was a large pool here.

“Cough, cough. I’m going to take a bath now. The following content is highly inappropriate for children, so in the interest of protecting the next generation, I’ll be temporarily shutting down the stream.”

“I’ll see you all again after my bath!” With that, Chen Bo ended the broadcast.

He was just about to undress when he suddenly heard voices nearby—close, too! Startled, he quickly hid.

What were people doing here, out in the wilds…?