Chapter 453: Chapter 228 My Weapon is Not a Short Stick
In just five words, there was a strong sense of glory and an inexplicable powerful presence conveyed in the instructor’s tone.
The peerless powerhouse, whose worn cloak had always shrouded him, finally revealed his name at this moment.
Mu Fan had been calling him Fighter Instructor, but his real name was Mohandas?
Bowing his head and bending his body, he sincerely exclaimed, “Instructor Mo.”
Mohandas revealed only a trace of his true aura, then concealed it once again. As the cloak closed, he returned to his undisturbed state.
“Mu Fan, if you wish to witness true martial prowess, I will show it to you. I hope you will never retreat from the path ahead, as you’ve said!”
After revealing his true name, Fighter Instructor’s tone carried a hint of real sternness towards Mu Fan.
Because from that moment on, Mu Fan knew whose legacy he had inherited!
As a leader of one of the strongest races, his, Mohandas’, glory would continue in this world in another form.
From this moment, Mu Fan formally took the unseen banner of glory into his hands.
“Instructor, I, Mu Fan, will keep my word.”
Mu Fan nodded vigorously, his youthful passion undiminished.
“I will tell you about the strength training plan, and I’ll teach you about speed as well.”
“Now tell me your understanding of speed!”
Mu Fan thought about Shura’s rapid advance, his eyes blazing as he blurted out, “When speed reaches its ultimate limit, it becomes an unparalleled force!”
“Good answer. Tell me, have you seen the ultimate speed of the human body?”
“My instructor in the real world, within three meters, I fire my gun, and he can split anything in two with a casual flick of his knife—that’s what I’m training to achieve now.”
“Do you think that’s the limit of human potential?”
Mu Fan said uncertainly, but he truly hadn’t seen anyone stronger.
“For ordinary people, yes, but not for you!”
Mohandas shouted into the void, “Black.”
Suddenly, a silver-white metal sphere appeared, its two electronic eyes squinting as it leisurely flew over.
“Old-timer, what do you want with me? And little Fan, aren’t you surprised to see Lord Black? Can you not kick me in the future?”
Black spun in a figure eight as it danced in the air.
“Weapons arsenal,” Mohandas spoke faintly.
A row of laser beams shot out from Black’s eyes, projecting a rectangular frame in front of it. When the light faded, Mu Fan saw a wall hung with various firearms.
There was a wall, more than ten meters long and three meters high, densely packed with guns.
“Do you want to see where your limits might be in the future? Watch me, what I can do… you can do one day as well. Grab that gun of yours and fire at me.”
Mu Fan’s eyes locked onto a large-caliber handgun—the Sandstorm 92.
In this world, Mu Fan had no concerns about the harm weapons could inflict, especially since the longer he stayed, the more he realized…
The instructor before him, known for his silence, displayed strength beyond measure!
What he thought he knew was just the tip of the iceberg.
So, without any hesitation, Mu Fan raised his hand and fired.
A black shadow flickered.
Mu Fan only felt a metal stick in the other’s hand whirl and then stop.
Of course, the other party was unharmed.
Mu Fan looked to the ground to see the fallen bullet, but there was none.
“Are you looking for this?”
A metal-clad left palm extended, a flattened bullet silently lying within.
The bullet from just now had actually been intercepted in mid-air by the instructor and caught in his hand!?
But causing all this with a stick somehow felt discordant no matter how he looked at it.
“Do you think the speed you saw was ?” asked a voice aged with time.
Mu Fan nodded, but then shook his head, “Instructor, your speed is even faster than what I saw… but back then, it was a knife, a knife swift as lightning, that split the bullet in two. My current training goal is to cut bullets with a knife; using a stick doesn’t quite match the image in my mind.”
Finally mustering the courage, Mu Fan spoke up, “Instructor, I’d like to try using other weapons.”
A quiet green glow pulsed, Mohandas watched Mu Fan silently, a smile hanging beneath the cloak.
At that moment, the previously motionless Dark Breath suddenly burst into wild laughter, “Old fool, you get what you deserve for not telling him, for always teaching him with a stick. Now he thinks that’s all you can do, it’s hilarious. If this gets around, your reputation will be ruined for life. I can’t even… hahaha…”
The metal Short Stick in his hand disappeared, only to reappear at the very spot Dark Breath had been, while his last laugh still echoed in the space, having been thrust back into the void.
Like swatting a fly with an indifferent flick, Mohandas lowered his raised right hand, the metal Short Stick rhythmically spinning in his palm.
“Young people these days… they have no patience.”
The spinning stick ceased, resting horizontally in his right hand, raised slowly to be level with his eyes.
“Kid, I hadn’t considered I might give you that impression… Do you want to see how to truly slice a bullet?”
A glimmer sparked in Mu Fan’s eyes. He felt the dissatisfaction in Mohandas’ tone but the question piqued his curiosity to new heights.
“Go grab a gun with enough firing speed.”
A deep voice instructed; as Mu Fan’s gaze swept over an electromagnetic rifle, he took it in hand.
Mohandas’ likewise metal-sheathed left hand rested on the Short Stick, painting the picture of both hands gripping the stick horizontally.
Mu Fan’s eyes widened.
“Let me explain, my weapon isn’t a Short Stick. Of course, it’s not what you’ll see next either.”
With an extremely slight tremor of the hands, at that moment Mu Fan suddenly felt an icy breath surge around his heart.
Dark Breath was activating on its own!?
It seemed to be reacting strongly to what was about to happen.
This had happened only once before.
It was during the night raid by the Zeg Clan on Asteroid 131.
Mu Fan’s gaze remained fixed on every move Mohandas made.
Left hand twisting back, right hand gently rotating forward.
A subtle click, as if a hidden small mechanism had been activated.
Then Mu Fan saw with his own eyes as the instructor twisted his hands in opposite directions, and the metal Short Stick—
The hands stopped moving, and Mu Fan couldn’t help but look into the instructor’s eyes.
A slight crinkle appeared on the small portion of chin that was visible, the stretching of muscles when a smile is about to break.
Both palms began to pull slowly apart.
A faint green luminescence emerged from the center of the Short Stick, like stardust transforming into powder, sparkling as it fairy dissipated with the air currents.
Mu Fan’s heart was lifted, the resonant feeling in his chest growing stronger, almost sensing the involuntary pull of Dark Breath towards that direction.
Mohandas’ hands were steady, without a tremor, pulling apart at a constant rate.
As the Short Stick was pulled apart, a brilliant emerald light shone from the break, growing ever more solid.
Emerald green like jade, chilling like Ice.
That expanding beam of ghostly green cast an endless brilliance in Mu Fan’s pupils.