*Smack*
*Smack*
*Smack*
Ichiro's hands rhythmically entered the cauldron and struck the sand inside.
In and out, he repeated the same motion hundreds of times before his hands started having signs of skin ripping off, but he didn't mind the sudden spike in pain.
He stopped for a split second before continuing once again. The sound of shouts came from the outside, while the dojo had one sound, only one.
The sound of flesh smacking against coarse sand and to many, it could be a disgusting sound, but for Ichiro, it was the sound of getting stronger.
He has lost track of time, but seeing that the sun was still in the sky, it was too soon to call quits.
Sweatdrops trickled down from his forehead all the way to his chin, and from there, it dropped down to his bare muscular chest and flowed from there all the way to the floor of the dojo.
The sand wasn't in yellowish color anymore, most of it was brown, and even a tinge of red was visible.
''Sigh…'' Ichiro sighed, and every now and then, he felt like it was pointless, but there was a voice inside his mind that told how important it is for him to continue this brutal training routine.
*Smack*
*Smack*
Ichiro's hands were bleeding, but also sand was started to stick on his skin, more precisely on the spots where he was bleeding, which somehow stopped the bleeding but made the pain even worse.
It was like a needle was stuck on his fingertip, and there was no way to get it out.
If Lang or other Masters saw what he was doing, they would be shocked.
They usually either use fists or palms to hit the sand because, to them, it's more efficient.
But, what Ichiro is doing caused greater pain, but greater effects.
His Iron Lance was getting stronger at an incredible rate, and before, he couldn't even make his fingertips sink in the sand, but slowly, his fingers started piercing through the pieces of grain, and slowly, every attack of his managed to sink inside the sand.
In and out, his hand's started moving even faster after finally understanding what rhythm he should be using, and it is another kind of training for him. He has never used Iron Lance repeatedly because the strength output would be lowered, so a certain rhythm, which keeps the same strength, is vital.
But, he hasn't trained it because he didn't have any need to, even though it is clearly one of his strongest attacks.
But, now, finally, his rhythm is getting much better, and soon, he might be able to use Iron Lance the same way as he is using his fists.
*SMACK!*
[-175 HP]
''Arghh!'' Ichiro groaned in pain and removed his hand from the cauldron, and looked at it with a twitching eyebrow.
His bone was sticking from his middle finger; it was broken.
He looked at his other hand as well and saw it being bloodied, not far from being broken as well…
Ichiro stood still and debated whether he should continue training, but the voice inside his mind told him to keep going.
And… Even he felt the incredible effects of such simple training.
''System…'' Ichiro murmured, and a holographic screen appeared in front of him.
He used his hand, which wasn't broken, to press Inventory, and from there, he picked up Healing Potion and gulped it down.
Soon, his wounds started healing, and the broken hand fixed itself, but the pain was still present.
He wiped the cold sweat off his forehead and looked at the cauldron, more precisely towards the sand, which was starting to cave in.
''Huff…'' Ichiro again put two of his hands into spear-like stance and thrusted them both towards the sand at the same time!
*SMACK 2X*
Both hands struck the sand simultaneously and were soon covered in sand.
But then, he took both of his hands from the sand and struck the sand again with two of his hands.
It would look strange to outsiders, but Ichiro felt like something was awakening inside him.
A new technique, perhaps.
Ichiro stopped hitting the sand and glanced at both of his bloodied hands, it was like instincts, but he knew instantly what to do.
His two hands were in a spear-like stance, which was reeled in backward and soon was touching both sides of his waist.
Looking at the sand, he had only one goal.
Defeat!
Ichiro's eyes widened, and muscles bulged in his two arms as he unleashed his new technique!
[True Iron Style - First Direction - Iron War!]
The two hands struck the sand, and it was like cutting butter; his two hands effortlessly pierced through the grains of sands and struck the bottom of the cauldron.
His arms were completely covered in sand, signaling how successful his new technique truly was.
Ichiro soon took off his two hands and glanced at his two hands, which had no signs of new injuries, but he knew… That this is only the beginning of the training.
''Sand… Defeated.'' He went to a nearby desk and wrapped his hands in bandages.
After his hands were wrapped, he glanced around the dojo to find something else to train with.
He saw a padded striking post not far from him, which had obvious signs of being worn out but still standing firmly.
Ichiro walked towards the striking post and touched it gently; it was strangely similar to the one he remembered from his previous life.
He must have struck it millions of times, but even after 30 years, it was still standing strong, without any signs of being broken apart.
Strangely, he spent more time hitting that padded striking post than with his family.
His family stopped funding his Martial Arts career because they thought he couldn't earn a living with it and to stop his obsession.
But, the owner of the Dojo was kind enough to let him train freely after seeing the passion, which was rarely seen in the youngsters.
Ichiro moved his body sideways and put his right hand next to his waist. Gazing at the striking post, he took a deep breath and struck the striking post with enough strength to make a loud boom.
*BOOM!*
The striking post didn't even flinch.
Ichiro wryly smiled; he remembered a lot from his previous life, of how he just couldn't break it, no matter what he tried.