Chapter 10: Alley Fight! (Edited)

Clark, as always, went all out in his martial arts training.

His weight training progressed from initially tying sandbags to his legs to full-body weights, from a few kilograms at the beginning to tens of kilograms now. With the special effects of "Calories," he continuously pushed his potential, resulting in another leap in his attributes.

However, compared to the growth of his basic attributes, his progress in martial arts techniques was not as remarkable.

In the half month since he started learning martial arts, Clark had only barely mastered the various moves and routines of the Twelve-Step Tan Leg, and his execution was still very stiff. Nalan Qing commented that he was too mechanical, even when practicing against a sandbag, he couldn't achieve a fluid motion, let alone apply it in real combat.

For Clark's starkly contrasting performance, Elder Nalan Long gave an eight-character evaluation after watching him.

Excellent foundation, mediocre comprehension.

This shows that the music boost effect of "Calories" is not omnipotent.

Tan Leg, infused with the essence of Shaolin martial arts, places a great emphasis on foundation. Without the support of a golden finger, it's unrealistic to expect to become a combat master in a short period of time.

But Clark was not discouraged by this. If comprehension is lacking, more practice is the solution.

Practice a move a hundred times, and its meaning will reveal itself!

Issues that can be resolved with effort are not issues at all.

Before his transmigration, he had squandered his precious youth on various distractions, realizing too late the importance of striving for success. Factors like education, connections, and resources determined he had no path for advancement, leaving him no choice but to be a layabout.

But this life was different.

Not only had he regained a youthful body, but he had also awakened the transmigrator's essential golden finger, opening up endless possibilities for the future.

How could he not give it his all in such circumstances?

Listening to "Calories" as he ran with the wind, Clark recalled Elder Nalan Long's words before leaving the martial arts school.

"Martial arts is an internal and external cultivation, a simultaneous elevation of thought and body. You should try to integrate it into every aspect of your life. If you're only focused on being brave and fierce, wanting to knock down your opponent, how is that different from the basic combat techniques taught in the regular class?"

As he ran, Clark pondered the meaning behind Elder Nalan Long's words.

Suddenly, he sensed a murderous intent!

His ability to detect this wasn't due to some miraculous improvement in his skills, allowing him to sense danger through murderous intent.

But rather...

Five individuals with eccentric hairstyles, wielding baseball bats and chains, completely blocked the alleyway ahead, eyeing him with malice.

Facing such a scenario, anyone, unless blind, could "detect" the presence of murderous intent.

Clark stopped, hearing footsteps behind him as well. Turning around, another five individuals with similar eccentric appearances emerged from the shadows, brandishing weapons and sealing his escape route.

"Kid!" In front of Clark, a black man with numerous small braids and a malicious smile spoke first, "You're unlucky to run into us today. Hand over everything valuable you have, including your MP3 player."

God damn MP3 player!

Clark always used the system for music; when did he ever use an MP3 player?

Coldly eyeing these individuals who practically had "I'm a bad guy" written on their faces, Clark defiantly responded, "Get lost, and I'll pretend I never saw you today."

"Yo, this yellow-skinned monkey's got some nerve." The braided black man waved his hand, "Brothers, teach him a lesson."

As the braided man commanded, his four companions, along with the five individuals behind Clark, armed with weapons, charged at him.

Facing a group of mere thugs, Clark was naturally fearless.

After all, he had received training!

A 1V9 battle erupted instantly.

Clark initially thought that with half a month of training, facing a dozen street thugs would be a piece of cake.

But as soon as the fight began, he realized it was not the case.

During his half-month of martial arts training, most of his time was spent kicking sandbags. Though there was some sparring, whether with Nalan Qing or his classmates in the elite class, it was always one-on-one, never a group fight.

Suddenly facing a group battle, especially a 1V9 situation, he felt overwhelmed by enemies from all directions. With his level of combat experience, he couldn't accurately judge each person's attacks!

Caught in a state of panic, Clark, like a stubborn silver player in a game being ganked by three people, indiscriminately used all his moves—Q, W, E, R—followed by random basic attacks.

His Shaolin Twelve-Step Tan Leg was completely forgotten in the chaos. He truly embodied the concept of forgetting the moves upon receiving them, using whatever came to mind, even dismantling some fixed routines to apply them randomly, creating a unique set of leg techniques for himself.

Dubbed—the Summer Ji Eight Kicks!

Although his fighting style had been completely assimilated by these thugs, Clark's efforts over the past month were not in vain. A month of hard training with "Calories" significantly enhanced his physical fitness. As Nalan Long put it, in terms of physical endurance and explosive power, Clark was already on par with Nalan Qing, who had been practicing martial arts since childhood.

Leveraging his absolute advantage in basic attributes, Clark managed to make the 1V9 fight competitive, even using his advantage in attack power and durability to withstand a few blows, knocking down three thugs temporarily out of combat.

Seeing Clark's ferocity, the braided man could no longer sit idly by. Drawing a dagger from his waist, he finally joined the fray.

At this point, Clark was also in a dire situation. The number of opponents had decreased from nine to six, but the pressure he faced had increased rather than decreased.

Initially, with nine people attacking him, the thugs had some difficulty coordinating their attacks. Now, with only six left, they could unleash their combat potential to the fullest.

Under the thugs' increasingly fierce attacks, Clark couldn't spare a moment to think, only realizing the threat posed by the braided man when he approached.

However, it was too late!

The braided man moved swiftly, charging forward and stabbing his dagger towards Clark's chest without hesitation. It was a lethal move aimed at taking Clark's life, indicating the man was no stranger to killing.

By the time Clark noticed the attacker, the deadly dagger was inches away. Without time to dodge, he instinctively raised his right arm to block the dagger. His survival instinct told him it was better to take a cut on the arm than a stab to the heart.

"Slash!" The sound of fabric tearing was followed by the sandbag tied to Clark's arm being sliced open, spilling iron sand all over the floor.

Realizing how close he had come to serious injury, Clark silently thanked his luck for wearing weighted training gear that day.

The braided man, clearly experienced, differed from the other thugs who mindlessly swung bats and chains. After the first strike was blocked by the sandbag, he quickly flipped his wrist, changing from a stab to a slash, aiming swiftly at Clark's right temple.

Clark hastily ducked and retreated, trying to dodge the fatal blow, but he was a fraction too slow. Although he avoided a critical hit, his forehead was slashed, blood blurring his vision.

This situation was dire!

In a moment of desperation, Clark twisted his body sharply, swinging his right arm in a powerful backhand punch.

But the punch was not the main attack; it was the torn sandbag on his arm. With some iron sand still inside, he flung it out, scattering it around like a celestial maiden scattering flowers.

"Iron Sand Technique!"

The surrounding thugs, including the braided man, were caught off guard by this unexpected move, forcing them to retreat.

Clark seized this opportunity to catch his breath.

But it was not enough.

He had come unarmed, without any weapon, and even with a brief respite, he couldn't turn the tide of the battle or escape unscathed.

Was he destined to die here, without even encountering a named villain, at the hands of these lowly thugs?

He refused to accept this fate!

As the previously repelled thugs charged at him again, Clark's mind flashed back to Elder Nalan Long's teachings.

"Martial arts is an internal and external cultivation, a simultaneous elevation of thought and body. You should try to integrate it into every aspect of your life."

"If you're only focused on being brave and fierce, wanting to knock down your opponent, how is that different from the basic combat techniques taught in the regular class?"