"This ti, I’ve truly reached my limit."
Jessica lay on her back on the yoga mat laid out on the floor, and even in the midst of sumr, wisps of white vapor could be seen rising from her body.
Feng Xue was noncommittal about Jessica’s words and simply stopped her action of releasing arrows imbued with killing intent. Instead, she said,
"Since you’ve run out of physical strength, it’s ti to start training. The recently obtained divine protection cannot be fully utilized yet. If you wish to beco stronger, then..."
"You have to continuously develop the power of the divine protection to make yourself stronger, right? You’ve said it so many tis!" Jessica took a deep breath, forcibly propped up half her body from the ground, and assud a pose that looked sowhat like a yoga position, beginning to "uncover the power of the divine protection."
This divine protection is, in plain terms, a martial art, although it does not belong to the ridian and acupoint system of Yan Country but rather originates from the collective term for discontinuous ancient civilizations, including Ancient Egypt, Ancient India, sopotamia, the Aztecs, Persia, and the like—the Dragon Elephant Prajna Art.
According to Feng Xue’s guess, this martial art must be the Hong Kong comics version or so variant version practiced by the protagonist of other worlds’ novels. Otherwise, in the world of the Gold Elent Martial Arts, it might pass for a divine skill, but when compared to the demons and ghosts from Taiwu, it hardly makes the list.
She chose this divine skill firstly because it appeared just in ti, and secondly because it was very easy to cultivate. After the initial entry, one only needed to rember a few sets of yoga positions, treating them like calisthenics, which was easier than the Yan Country martial arts that required morizing ridians and acupoints, and subjectively transporting blood and essence and refining qi. This cultivation technique indeed resembled a "divine protection" more.
Feng Xue only needed to use "No-thought Divine Power" to channel a strand of inner strength (do you understand the concept of primordial spirit in the technique?), into the "beneficiary," allowing them to preliminarily learn the Dragon Elephant Prajna Art. Afterward, teaching them those few sets of yoga positions, and using the excuse of "using yoga to uncover the body’s potential and develop divine protection," it was easy to bluff one’s way through.
As for ordinary people learning yoga positions, they certainly could practice, but without Feng Xue using the No-thought Divine Power to open the passageways, it would take a short period of seven or eight months or as long as one or two years for an average person to reach the first level of entry—and that’s with undivided concentration and full dedication to training.
For the people of the Martial World, spending so much ti to enter the threshold of a divine skill wasn’t considered long, but for modern people, when faced with sothing they didn’t know they could successfully cultivate, how many could keep at it? Even if the individual could persist, with the heavy burden of work and life pressures, how many could spare the ti to train?
Even if there truly was a one-in-a-million martial arts genius who could get started in three days, Feng Xue wasn’t worried. She could express astonishnt and say, "It’s incredible that soone could develop the human body to such an extent without divine protection," and then use that case for research, eventually brazenly proposing a cultivation system as a "protective divine skill," or sothing of the sort.
However, to the Westerners, especially the Victorians who once colonized Sargon, the impression of yoga is that it’s a practice for regulating the body and uncovering one’s potential (trivia: Complete Form yoga includes breathing exercises and ditation skills). So using yoga to uncover divine protection sounds perfectly reasonable.
...
As Feng Xue regularly trained Jessica, in Victoria Hill County, a young man wearing a black suit, slightly ostentatious yet not hindering movent, designed by a well-known tailor, held a report in one hand and gazed at Nanides Prison from afar—
It was a private prison that resembled a luxurious hotel.
There lay his target.
"William Lester, with nurous convictions for rape, torture, murder, and others, yet sentenced to only seven years in prison, and in the most luxurious private prison in all of Victoria."
Muttering the information from the files softly, the young man couldn’t help but recall the youth from a few days prior, his eyes bloodshot and the lifeless woman with hollow, doll-like eyes.
As soone fished out from the waste piles of Ghoul Street, the young man harbored a resentnt towards the wealthy that seed almost innate. Coupled with his still intact sense of morality and justice, he found himself quite pleased with his current target.
Putting on the skull mask with built-in gas mask functionality, the young man checked his equipnt and began to regulate his breathing.
One second, two seconds, three seconds...
As his breathing gradually grew faint, his body seed to rge with the darkness (Breath Concealnt).
Nanides Prison was by no ans a conventional prison; it practically existed to provide a comfortable haven for the criminals with money, power, or connections. The inmates here had much easier and straightforward thods to leave, making an escape quite unlikely. Hence, this so-called prison didn’t even have high walls or electrified fences. Instead, it featured an internal river for fishing, a gym, and a sports ground for entertainnt. In the young man’s eyes, it was less a prison and more akin to a full boarding school—
Compared to it, the Ghoul Street of his upbringing felt more like a true prison.
Avoiding the main gate, the young man, bolstered by "protection" that granted him four tis the physical fitness of an ordinary person, vaulted over the not-so-high periter wall with ease.
The prison had been established on the laughable pretext of "ensuring prisoners’ human rights," and its operations had been widely publicized across the country. Its design was so readily available online that the young man had no trouble locating the few caras there were.
Having trained under the hellish killing intent of his instructor, where he experienced the sensation of death over and over, the young man’s perception of danger and awareness of others’ gazes had sharpened to an exaggerated degree. Even if there were caras not indicated in the design plans, he could sense them imdiately.
But to his surprise, the prison’s internal defense was far more lax than he had imagined. Often, he could walk dozens of ters without encountering a single patrolling prison guard.
This could perhaps be attributed to the fact that no one was expected to escape from this prison, but he remained on alert—
Executioners must accept a commission to kill, aning the commissioner themselves could potentially leak the existence of the executioner. The apparent laxity he was now experiencing could very well be a trap, luring him into the pot.
Crossing the "fishing area," the young man entered the cell block, but to his surprise, the cell that was supposed to be holding William Lester was empty.
He approached to inspect and found that even the cell door was left unlocked. However, just to be safe, he directed his gaze into the lavishly decorated cell, more luxurious than his own ho, to the door of the standalone toilet.
If the person was still in the cell, they should be there.
The young man cautiously observed his surroundings, ensuring there wasn’t the slightest sound before slowly approaching the toilet door. He wasn’t worried about the cell door suddenly closing—as with his current strength, he could easily bend the bars open, even without understanding how to pick locks.
Yet contrary to his expectations, there was neither a sinner using the toilet nor an ambush lying in wait, ard to the teeth, which made him start to doubt the accuracy of the information he had obtained.
"I’ll have to take a risk..." The young man pulled a coin from his pocket, stepped out of the room, and walked on...
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