Chapter 34 : Virtual Battlefield!

After assessing his strengths and weaknesses, Carl focused his mind and summoned the attributes page.

Host: Carl[West.Carl]

Race: Human

Level: One Star

Bloodline: Krypton Superman [Bronze Age]

Constitution: 1280

Spirit: 672

Strength: 1490 [Grip Strength: 20 tons]

Agility: 1252 [Running Speed per Second: 170~200]

Abilities: Heat Ray [Characteristic: 1000~1800 degrees Celsius, with weak impact], Flight [Floating Slowly]

X Gene Ability: Energy Rage [Level 1]

Origin: 1

Function: Virtual Battlefield, Storage Space [1X1]

The attributes page had undergone some changes compared to before, such as an additional level, and the storage space below was now divided into functions alongside the virtual battlefield.

Glancing over the various attributes, Carl's attention was drawn to the virtual battlefield.

Anticipating that it would take more than an hour to travel by fighter plane, Carl made a conscious decision and clicked into it.

In an instant, Carl's consciousness descended, and he found himself in a dim space with a simple option box in front of him.

"The current host level is one star, and you can select an opponent of equivalent strength."

"The training mode is divided into four levels: easy, difficult, hell, and despair, and the intensity of pain can be adjusted by the user."

"For the host's initial training, it is recommended to choose a simple mode to minimize discomfort."

"...Underestimating me," Carl muttered as he glanced at the system's suggestion, raising an eyebrow.

Though unsure of the system's standards, Carl believed that with his strength and speed, even at one star, he should be considered formidable within this tier.

After brief consideration, Carl opted against reducing the pain and instead chose the recommended simple mode.

Suddenly, a stern middle-aged man materialized not far away.

Above the middle-aged man, various attribute data appeared: Constitution: 1280, Spirit: 672, Strength: 1490 [Grip Strength: 20 tons]...

Entirely a mirror image of Carl.

So, essentially, it's a confrontation with someone possessing identical abilities as him?

"It can't be too formidable, right?"

With this notion in mind, Carl resolved to initiate the encounter, only to find himself...

Dead?

Abruptly, on the combat arena, Carl's eyes fluttered open, his complexion drained, a piercing agony searing through his chest, disbelief flickering in his gaze.

He'd been swiftly dispatched by an opponent mirroring his attributes.

In the very instant he acknowledged the commencement of the duel, the middle-aged adversary surged forth at maximum velocity, materializing before Carl in the blink of an eye.

Certainly, with a movement speed of 200 meters per second, Carl could have effortlessly reacted.

Yet, the pivotal moment arrived when Carl launched a punch, intercepting the opponent's fist—like a serpent, the adversary swayed, nullifying the counterforce.

Subsequently, their footwork shifted, not advancing but withdrawing. As Carl instinctively recoiled due to the counterforce, his fist transitioned into an open palm, seizing his assailant's.

In a heartbeat, the assailant crashed into Carl's embrace, a sinister left elbow shattering his heart.

"I've been outmatched in combat technique." Reflecting upon the recent skirmish, Carl's eyes narrowed marginally, his countenance assuming a solemn demeanor.

This, indeed, constituted his Achilles' heel.

Inadequate combat experience and deficient skills.

His physical prowess and might rendered him impervious to ordinary adversaries.

Regardless of an ordinary opponent's combat expertise or refined skills, they posed no significant threat. After all, against an ordinary individual, capable of exerting tens of tons of force with a single punch, he remained virtually invulnerable.

However, should he encounter a foe boasting comparable strength, this vulnerability would prove fatal.

Just a minor miscalculation could precipitate instant demise, as evidenced by the recent encounter.

Upon scrutinizing the skirmish meticulously, Carl resolved to recalibrate his strategy and re-enter the virtual battlefield, opting once more for the simple mode. Look and behold, the middle-aged combatant materialized once more.

This time, the adversary employed a grappling technique rooted in joint manipulation.

Under Carl's intense focus, he managed to execute only five moves before his opponent swiftly countered, wrenching his left hand joint and delivering a devastating blow to his heart with a single punch.

A sharp intake of breath echoed.

With a pallid complexion, Carl slowly reopened his eyes.

"I can't help but admit, the sensation of dying is utterly dreadful."

Seeking to diminish the anguish, Carl acknowledged he had no choice. Experiencing death ingrains a profound memory.

Presently, he engaged solely in virtual combat, where death merely brought pain. Yet, in reality, demise equated to finality.

After dulling the ache somewhat and reflecting on the recent skirmish's outcomes, Carl reentered the virtual arena.

This time, his opponent adopted a different combat approach.

Carl persisted through fifteen exchanges, each blow met with unyielding resistance. Yet, after fifteen strikes, his wrist fractured, and his heart succumbed to relentless force.

As Carl gazed around, his visage wan, suspicion clouded his eyes. "What's amiss? Our attributes are identical, yet I perceive his might as superior, his blows fiercer."

"No, it's not the force of his strikes, but the concentration of his strength. Mine is too diffused."

Recalling the recent confrontation, Carl delved into analysis, pinpointing the cause of his defeat.

However, grappling techniques could be replicated and mastered. This concentrated power, akin to reality, infused within his opponent's fists—how could he grasp such an all-encompassing martial style?

Contemplating, Carl refrained from reentering the virtual fray.

The middle-aged man in the basic simulation emanated the aura of a close-quarters combatant, proficient in myriad melee tactics.

Until he devised a strategy to counter that formidable fist, diving back in would be tantamount to suicide.

Moreover, despite the brevity of the three battles, his mental and spiritual reserves had been significantly depleted.

****

Support me on my patreon and read upto 15 early chapters.

https://www.patreon.com/AniScout