Chapter Eight: Chen Nan

Yang Feng shook his head. It was time to focus on his own affairs. To be honest, he was curious about what his current blood-energy level was.

"I'll stop by the Bengquan Martial Arts Hall on the way back to get it tested. I just wonder if they still have that trial card promotion?"

Having been there once before, Yang Feng found the Bengquan Martial Arts Hall without needing to rely on his digital map. The hall remained unchanged; not only was the exterior the same, but the promotional poster at the entrance was also identical, save for the fact that the duration of the event had been extended. Yang Feng’s mouth twitched slightly. It seemed that whether on Earth or in this world, the marketing tactics of businesses were exactly the same.

Walking into the lobby, he saw the same two receptionists as before. Standing beside them was a hulking, muscular man who was chatting with the women. The giant was imposing, standing a full two meters tall with muscles like knotted cables. Next to him, the two receptionists looked like a pair of fragile little rabbits.

One of the receptionists spotted Yang Feng and her eyes lit up. "Young man, are you here to learn Bengquan again?"

The muscular man, who had been talking to the other receptionist, turned to look as well.

"No, I'm just here to measure my blood-energy level this time!" Perhaps because he was no longer hungry, he felt more confident, so he declined the offer directly.

The receptionist wasn't disappointed. "That’s fine. I'll take you to the blood-energy chamber now."

"Do I not need to sign up for a membership card this time?" Yang Feng asked, surprised.

"No, just leave your phone number after you finish. The price remains the same," the receptionist explained as she led the way.

Watching Yang Feng’s retreating back, the giant shook his head.

"What’s wrong, Senior Brother Chen? Why the head shake?" the other receptionist asked curiously.

"With a physique that scrawny, what’s the point of testing his blood-energy? I doubt it’ll even pass 0.9."

The man was Chen Nan, the head disciple of the Bengquan Martial Arts Hall and a personal student of the hall master, Zhuo Fei. He was a peak second-tier martial artist whose mastery of the Bengquan technique had reached a level of perfection equal to that of his master. Consequently, his years of experience meant his judgment of people was rarely wrong.

The receptionist opposite him heard this and her eyes darted around mischievously. "Senior Brother, how about we make a bet?"

"Oh? A bet on what?" Chen Nan asked, his interest piqued.

"Let’s bet on whether that student’s blood-energy level exceeds 1.2. How about five hundred Federation credits?" she said, suppressing her inner excitement. Every time the chamber was used, they had to check the logs. It just so happened that it was her turn to check that day, and she had caught a glimpse of the un-deleted blood-energy reading. Because the boy’s physique had been so thin, the high reading had left a deep impression on her. As long as he took the bet, she was guaranteed to win.

Chen Nan looked suspicious. A receptionist’s monthly salary was only about five thousand; for her to bet five hundred meant she was very confident. The most likely scenario was that she already knew his blood-energy exceeded 1.2. However, based on his experience, he didn't believe a student like that could even hit 1.0, let alone 1.2.

"Senior Brother, do you lack confidence in your own judgment?" Seeing Chen Nan hesitating, the receptionist decided to fan the flames.

Sure enough, Chen Nan laughed boldly. "Fine, no problem, I’ll take the bet! But let’s be clear: whoever loses isn't allowed to cry or go back on their word!"

The receptionist giggled, "Don't worry, Senior Brother. Whoever welches is a puppy!"

"Then open the backend console; let’s look right now," Chen Nan urged. Aside from handling payments, the front desk computer was connected to the data from the blood-energy chambers in each room to prevent tampering or damage.

Soon, the two were looking at the live data and surveillance feed from the chamber Yang Feng was using.

In Room 106, Yang Feng had already climbed into the chamber. Having done this before, he pressed the start button and went through the same process. First, blue lasers swept from his feet to his head, followed by red light, and finally, a green beam finished scanning his entire body.

The electronic display on the chamber showed his blood-energy level.

"Beep. Your blood-energy level is 1.87."

Simultaneously, a system prompt rang in his ears. Yang Feng was stunned. He hadn't expected his level to reach 1.87 in just a week; he was now nearly on par with a first-tier martial artist.

The Federation government’s standards for a first-tier martial artist were twofold: first, a blood-energy level of at least 2.0; and second, the mastery of a first-tier martial art technique to the intermediate stage. Yang Feng’s level was already 1.87, only 0.13 away. As for the technical proficiency, that was even less of a concern for him. After all, he had already mastered the Bengquan technique to the ultimate level.

Just as he was calculating how long it would take to reach first-tier status, the two people in the lobby were staring in shock.

Chen Nan’s eyes were filled with confusion and disbelief; his years of experience had been completely overturned by this high schooler. A body that scrawny having a blood-energy level of 1.87? This result exceeded the standard for elite martial arts universities and was enough to aim for the top ten institutions in the Federation. His second thought, however, was to convince the boy to study Bengquan before he officially became a first-tier martial artist. A talent like this would surely make the technique famous, attracting more students.

As for the receptionist, she was simply stunned. She remembered clearly that a week ago, Yang Feng’s level had been just over 1.2. How could it have skyrocketed to 1.87 in such a short time? Did he eat a rocket? She was so shocked that she momentarily forgot about the five-hundred-credit bet.

After the test, Yang Feng left Room 106 without lingering. Although he had over three hours of membership time left, there was no point in staying; since he had already reached the pinnacle of the hall’s most famous technique, there was nothing left for him to learn there.

As he walked into the lobby, a shadow suddenly blocked his path. Yang Feng frowned slightly, looked up at the person, and instinctively took a step back.

The hulking giant’s face was twisted into a smile that looked like a blooming chrysanthemum.

"What are you doing?" Yang Feng retreated, immediately on guard.

For a brief moment, the smile on Chen Nan’s face froze.