Chapter 7

Items purchased in the trading market can be put into or taken out of the backpack column at any time, which is quite convenient.

Siano first took out the katana "Masamune."

Drew the sword from its sheath.

The slender blade glowed with a frost-like luster in the sunlight, yet maintained an astonishingly slender arc.

Held it in front of his eyes and examined it carefully.

The blade, thin as a cicada's wing, had a gradient color, glowing with a deep-sea-like indigo from the tsuba, and fading to an almost transparent pale white when extending to the tip.

He drank the remaining cola in one breath, threw the empty can up, and with a slight swing, in just an instant, cut it into several pieces without any resistance.

The afterimage of the blade tip flying and passing left a firefly-like silver trail in the air.

"Good sword." Siano showed admiration.

The weight is appropriate, and the feel is excellent.

The blacksmith shop in the town next to his hometown is quite famous in the nearby islands; when he was obsessed with swordplay practice, he had also excitedly visited it.

But no matter which sword in it, the gap between it and this one was like heaven and earth.

Sheathed the sword.

The blade being too long is not a problem; his body has just entered the developmental stage, and when he grows taller, it will be a very fitting sword.

Putting it back into the backpack, Siano opened the two Six Styles manuals again.

The moment he opened them, the random dice selection was completed, and the results shown were "Shave" and "Iron Body."

"Good luck."

The boy’s mood became more and more comfortable; these two physical techniques, the former focusing on movement and the latter strengthening defense, are exactly what he likes most at the moment.

With a thought, he first opened Iron Body.

Manual-type items are all spread out in front of his eyes like the system panel, simulating page-turning with his mind, somewhat like the form of an e-book.

The text description inside is extremely detailed, and there are even detailed disassembly instructions for every move.

For some obscure and difficult parts, a blurry dark blue figure would appear next to him while browsing, demonstrating the moves one by one, which was quite intuitive.

Previously, he was able to quickly master the "Breathing Fist Technique," which also owed credit to this teaching method.

"The entry threshold is not high, but to master it proficiently, it still requires a lot of hard work."

After roughly browsing through these two Six Styles manuals, Siano’s eyes flickered, and he made a rough estimate.

His current physique has improved significantly compared to when he first practiced the Breathing Fist Technique.

Coupled with the special effect of the Breathing Fist Technique that can quickly eliminate muscle fatigue, the progress of practicing physical techniques will inevitably far exceed that of ordinary people.

Even conservatively estimated, he can at least proficiently master these two physical techniques within a year.

"Within a year..."

Siano shook his head slightly; if it were before, he would definitely be satisfied with this speed.

But now with a big stone like Arlong pressing on his heart, his progress must be faster, and much faster!

Fortunately.

He was extremely lucky this time and refreshed a blessing prop that he could use.

His gaze fell on the last item in the backpack column, and Siano’s eyes were full of uncontrollable anticipation.

He had never owned props to assist in cultivation before; he owed his current strength entirely to his own step-by-step, head-down hard training.

Now, it’s time to taste the feeling of an acceleration cheat!

………

Half an hour later.

On the first basement floor, in a spacious large cabin.

Siano looked around and nodded with satisfaction.

This was originally a spare armory; because the Gatto route has been relatively safe in recent years, it has been vacant and unattended for years, covered in dust and spider webs.

When Siano found Gatto and proposed that he wanted a room to practice physical techniques.

The old man immediately thought of this place, immediately called people to help clean it up, and moved in several sandbags, as well as some discarded wood, tied into simple wooden stakes with hemp rope.

Even mirrors, water, and towels were all prepared, and other crew members were not allowed to disturb him, which made Siano feel truly warm and moved.

"Let's start."

Siano carefully placed the statue of Hercules in the corner, then let out a long breath and started jogging in circles to warm up.

After warming up, he didn't immediately start practicing the Six Styles, but chose to continue practicing the "Breathing Fist Technique."

After all, the bottleneck barrier of this fist technique was already faintly visible.

If he could break through to great success sooner, the combat power bonus it could provide would be far higher than the entry-level Six Styles.

……

Time flew by.

In the blink of an eye, six days later, the Gatto was sailing steadily on the ocean, facing the afternoon sun.

This route was indeed safe enough; he didn't encounter any accidents along the way, nor did he run into those pirate ships that liked to hang skull flags.

In the basement cabin.

The sound of bang, bang, bang was continuous; a sturdy figure kept weaving back and forth between the wooden stakes and sandbags; on the wooden floor, there were wet sweat marks everywhere.

"One thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine... two thousand, finish!"

The counting sound echoed in the confined space; the boy's spine was like a fully drawn winch bowstring; the moment his fist touched the teak stake, he suddenly retracted his strength, and an invisible wave permeated into it; snap! Ring-shaped cracks appeared on the surface of the stake in response.

"Hoo..."

Siano suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, white smoke rising from his whole body, his breathing heavy like a bellows.

Every time he inhaled, his diaphragm could sink to twice the depth of an ordinary person, and the muscles between his ribs bulged like sails; while at the moment of exhaling, his throat bones trembled, and the pressure given by the crazy expansion of the alveoli was visible to the naked eye.

He closed his eyes to adjust his breathing rhythm, and it took a long time to gradually calm down.

When he took a dry towel to wipe his sweat, there was still hot steam rising from the pores of the towel.

Siano tilted his neck and drank water in big gulps; after finishing it, he threw it aside and wiped his mouth fiercely.

"Refreshing!"

The low voice from his throat still hadn't adapted, making even himself feel strange.

It used to carry some childishness, but now it was like directly crossing the final stage of the adolescent voice change, completely becoming an adult's voice.

"Six days, it only took six days!"

Siano stepped in front of the mirror, the wooden floor creaking under his feet; looking at the familiar yet strange self inside, he grinned, his eyes full of pleasure.

In these few days.

The time he spent here in hard training every day exceeded twelve hours; how much hardship he paid and how much sweat he shed, perhaps only the silent statue in the corner knew.

But the results of cultivation will eventually witness everything!

On the sixth day, which is today, he completely broke through the bottleneck, and the "Breathing Fist Technique" reached great success!

The barrier that originally constrained the upper limit of the body was like a fragile glass container being squeezed and burst, breaking inch by inch.

Then it expanded and was recast crazily, with a capacity far exceeding the past, giving him a sense of detachment of looking down from above and transforming into a brand-new species.

The change in voice was one of the significant changes brought about after the breakthrough.

And it was the most insignificant change.

Siano examined himself in the mirror.

His face was still delicate, but his eyebrows were much thicker and darker, and his jawline was clearer; the black hair that originally only reached his ears grew wildly, covering his shoulders.

And his height had actually increased by more than ten centimeters!

From his neck down, his muscles were knotted, his shoulder blades bulged like battering rams, and when his latissimus dorsi stretched to its heart's content, it directly covered half of the mirror surface.

The most terrifying thing was the spine; thirty-three vertebrae surged and undulated under the skin, as if living creatures were dormant within; when he arched his body slightly, the entire spine was like a full-string heavy crossbow, making a tooth-aching tightening sound.

Compared to the body of six days ago, it seemed so weak.

Standing in front of the mirror for a long time.

He kept examining himself like this, like a craftsman in an ancient civilization admiring the proud sculpture he had created with his own hands; he couldn't get enough of it no matter how long he looked.

Snap!

He suddenly hooked two wooden stakes with his feet, kicked them up, and grabbed them into his hands.

With a little force, the two wooden stakes were squeezed and exploded together, shaking into countless fine powder, falling down with a rustle.

The boy opened his arms again, wantonly feeling the powerful strength surging in his body that far exceeded the past, and could no longer suppress the joy in his heart, looking up and laughing heartily.

"Hahahahaha!!!!"

The laughter shook the dust on the ceiling, which fell down with a rustle, reaching the deck.

……

On the deck.

Gatto, who was leaning on the railing and smoking his pipe leisurely, felt the violent vibration of the wooden floor under his feet, remembering that Siano had been eating and sleeping in the basement cabin for the past few days and hadn't come out to get some air.

He couldn't help but feel a little worried.

After hesitating for a while, he went downstairs along the spiral staircase, came to the spare armory, and slowly raised his right hand.

Creak~

Just as he was about to knock on the door, the wooden door was suddenly pushed open with great force from the inside, scaring him into taking a step back subconsciously.

"Hmm?"

The person opposite lowered his head and noticed him, making a light sound of surprise.

Old Gatto looked up at the familiar face; it seemed that no accident had happened. His gaze moved down; the boy was already wearing that bloated coat, and he couldn't see any changes.

But why does it always feel a bit strange...

No!

After suddenly realizing something, Gatto opened his mouth wide, and the pipe he was biting fell to the ground with a clatter.

Clearly, when they first met, the boy was still half a head shorter than him; why now, it was he who needed to look up?

"Mr. Gatto, why are you here? What a coincidence."

The black-haired boy in front of him scratched his head, revealing a shy and green smile, "Um, I haven't eaten for half a day, and I'm suddenly a bit hungry, so I was just about to go to the restaurant. Would you like to go together?"

(End of this chapter)