Chapter 6

"Being able to take the College Entrance Exam doesn't mean you'll pass it."

"If you can't pass the College Entrance Exam, you're the same as the dropouts you mocked yesterday — all Blank Ones, breathing trash in the city."

"Tell me, which of you will become city trash?"

"Good, nobody's speaking. Then for the last three months, not a single second of slacking. As long as practice won't kill you, practice yourselves to death."

"Especially the Body Forging Exercise — everyone must run through it twice every day, striving to make every movement as perfect as possible."

"I know many of you look down on the Body Forging Exercise, think it's a dime-a-dozen thing. You're right, it is."

"So this is the free-points question on the Martial Arts Exam. Want to pass the College Entrance Exam? Absolutely cannot lose points here. If you can't even do this most basic thing, you might as well scram."

"Now, everyone follow me and run through it once."

The Martial Arts Coach, burly and nearly 2 meters tall, stood in the center of the classroom.

His voice was coarse, his tone fierce; the entire martial arts classroom reverberated with his near-unreasonable roaring.

He demonstrated while glaring, eyes fixed on every student; the slightest deviation in movement brought a torrent of vicious curses.

In the past, this was the scene Feng Mu feared most in martial arts class — as terrifying as being called up to sing solo in music class in his previous life.

Before, there were still a bunch of exam-dropouts for company; today only he remained, so his twisted, bizarre movements stood out especially clearly.

Like a yangge dancer mixed into a gymnastics performance.

"Where's the 'basic' in this crap? Single-leg standing split is the simplest pose — you're paralyzed, you try doing one."

"Fine, they can all do it, I'm just too useless."

Feng Mu could feel the coach's man-eating gaze; his face inevitably burned.

Fortunately, the coach didn't reprimand Feng Mu, just shifted his gaze away.

Feng Mu froze: "Trash not worth wasting saliva spray on, huh? Fine."

Feng Mu wasn't ashamed or angry; he simply stopped following the coach, thoroughly slowing his pace, like an old grandpa climbing stairs — movements stiff and sluggish.

This way, Feng Mu managed to barely make his postures a bit more standard.

Of course, in others' eyes, this was probably a waste of space completely giving up on himself.

But Feng Mu couldn't care less about others' strange looks; all his attention was focused on his stomach.

"The sinking-bloated feeling is weakening — the Body Forging Exercise sped up Iron Eating digestion?!!"

Feng Mu originally just wanted to go through the motions and muddle through two martial arts classes; never expected an accidental harvest.

30 minutes later.

Feng Mu finished one set of Body Forging Exercise panting heavily; the corner of his mouth unconsciously curved upward.

He thought: "It really works — the stomach doesn't lie. It's really flattened a lot; digestion speed roughly increased by 1x. That means reaching 100% Iron Eating Degree drops to 50 days, provided I do 20 hours of Body Forging Exercise daily. Hmph, not impossible."

"Hey, what're you laughing at? Performing like that, how do you still have the face to laugh? No shame?" A contemptuous voice came from beside him.

Feng Mu glanced over suspiciously — seemed to be the student scolded hardest just now, name unknown.

"Pent-up anger, looking for someone to vent on, and I'm the only waste worse than him on scene to bully?"

An adult's soul resided in Feng Mu's body; he'd never conflict with someone over such inexplicable nonsense — no interest in arguing with this brain-dead type.

"Can't compare to your greatness. I'm happy just completing it. You did great; you'll definitely score high on the College Entrance Exam. Go for it!" Feng Mu wiped sweat from his head with a face full of sincerity.

Unknown Name: "....."

He praised me as great, he even wished me a good exam. Though he's waste, he seems sincere. Should I not have mocked him?

【Unknown Name】 felt something was off but couldn't place it — like a fist hitting cotton, strength with nowhere to vent. Could only leave increasingly irritated.

Feng Mu sent the asshole packing, shuffled a few more steps into the corner, and started practicing Body Forging Exercise again.

This round, because stamina was somewhat depleted, he practiced even slower and more laboriously; sweat soaked his clothes like a steam sauna.

Consequently, digestion speed increased a bit more.

In the distance, a girl with a high ponytail and heterochromatic pupils looked at Feng Mu in the corner with slight surprise, muttering: "This boy is clearly waste, but has a bit of..."

The Lower City has no black tea or green tea drinks; she had no way to use an incisive word to depict this feeling.

Two more rounds of Body Forging Exercise, and over an hour passed.

When the martial arts classroom gradually emptied, students heading to the cafeteria in twos and threes to eat, Feng Mu finally stopped.

He pressed his stomach with his index finger; the fullness had clearly vanished.

He judged his stomach had freed up 3/10 of space.

2/10 was digested Iron Beads, 1/10 was normal metabolism of breakfast.

"Can I stop eating food and only eat iron from now on?" Feng Mu regretted eating breakfast a little; he decided right then to skip lunch and dinner.

Moving his pleasantly sore meridians — not sure if illusion — Feng Mu felt his bones were a bit cold, especially at the xiphoid process, a chill seeping through the skin.

"Does Iron Eating reconstruct bones first?"

Because martial dao body tempering starts from skin, reaches flesh, then tendons, finally bones — so Feng Mu paused slightly, but didn't think further.

Left the classroom, went downstairs, reached the first-floor toilet, pushed the door open, confirmed no one inside, then Feng Mu climbed out the window.

Outside the first-floor men's toilet window were uneven shrubs and weeds, messy and lush — perfect for concealing tracks, the stealth route Feng Mu planned for himself.

3 minutes later.

Feng Mu followed the old path, scaled the wall into the warehouse.

Landed quietly, waited a full 5 minutes, confirmed no sounds inside, then Feng Mu revealed himself from the wall corner, slowly walking to the female corpse.

The corpse was still in its original spot, unmoved.

One night's fermentation — the corpse had a slight rotting smell, not severe, masked by the warehouse's damp moldy stench.

Feng Mu went to the male corpse behind the wooden rack.

The male corpse was also in its original spot, unmoved — no corpse transformation from evil sacrifice — and because blood and moisture had been drained, not even a rotting smell.

Feng Mu found grim amusement in the thought: "The sacrificial ritual didn't come with a complete after-sales service — it cleaned up the corpses, but at least it helped with the preservation treatment!"

This greatly reduced the burden for his upcoming work.

And, as for exactly how to handle these two corpses, Feng Mu had already vaguely sorted out his train of thought from last night until now, just like dissecting a math problem.

Problem:

There are two corpses inside the room, one you killed, one you didn't; how do you plan to deal with them?

Difficulty 1: handle only one or dispose of both.

Difficulty 2: the Patrol Bureau may have already received a missing person report; time is pressing.

Difficulty 3: first offense, no experience, unable to ensure the scene's traces are cleaned clean.

Difficulty 4: frail physique; the workload of dismembering corpses is too great.

Difficulty 5: only one bicycle for transport.

Difficulty 6: cannot disappear from the sight of classmates, teachers, or parents for a long time.

In summary of the above difficulties, there is only one path left to solve the problem!

……

(End of Chapter)