39. Combat Training

“Combat training?” Ye Feng blinked in confusion, feeling completely bewildered this time. Hadn’t they just finished fighting? Did he really need more training in combat? Besides, Ye Feng considered his fighting skills to be decent, so he asked Huaihuai with some doubt, “Why do I even need to learn this?”

Seeing Ye Feng’s puzzled expression, Huaihuai chuckled slyly. “What, you think you’re already that impressive? You think beating up twenty street punks makes you invincible? Let me tell you, even though this era isn’t really suited for cultivation anymore, there are still a select few who can train. By my rough estimation, there are at least tens of thousands of superhumans in this world, people far beyond the average! GOD’s secret forces are definitely much stronger than you are now!”

“Uh…” Ye Feng was at a loss for words, somewhat startled. In all his years—two lifetimes now—he had never come across a true monster. So he thought that now, with his ability to cultivate internal energy, he’d soon be able to sweep away the GOD organization. Who would have guessed there were so many monsters lurking in the world?

Still, Ye Feng didn’t lose heart. At least for now, he still had a fighting chance.

As Ye Feng waited expectantly, Huaihuai slipped to the side, and a combat trainer appeared. But when Ye Feng saw who it was, he was left utterly speechless.

Standing before him was none other than his favorite tough guy, Arnold Schwarzenegger. Apparently, Huaihuai knew Ye Feng’s preferences all too well.

“Uh… why is it you?” Ye Feng muttered to himself.

Schwarzenegger flashed a big, white grin at Ye Feng and introduced himself, “I am Colonel Schwarzenegger, your combat trainer…”

Hearing this, Ye Feng was once again at a loss for words. Even the voice was just like Schwarzenegger’s. Thankfully, Ye Feng’s English was good enough to understand him.

Nevertheless, Huaihuai never wasted effort on useless things. If there was a subject he needed to train in, it must be something essential in the future.

So Ye Feng looked at Schwarzenegger with eager anticipation, ready to accept his instruction. It was his first time receiving this kind of training, and his curiosity was piqued.

But it didn’t take long for Ye Feng to realize things weren’t as rosy as he imagined. Reality seldom played out the way he hoped. Within minutes, he experienced the true meaning of misery: Schwarzenegger showed no mercy, beating him until his face was swollen like a pig’s head.

“Combat training isn’t limited to any fixed set of techniques,” Schwarzenegger explained while demonstrating moves, “but emphasizes adaptability—using punches, kicks, elbows, knees, and throws as the situation requires. You must master both long and short-range techniques, and always aim to knock out or defeat your opponent, no matter what methods you use.” All the while, Ye Feng was battered around like a punching bag.

“You just need to grasp the basics—stance, footwork, hand techniques, elbow strikes, leg attacks, knee strikes, throws—and then use them flexibly. In reality, pay close attention to strength, flexibility, and agility training, and hone your skills through real combat…”

Schwarzenegger went on to describe numerous techniques, demonstrating each one on Ye Feng—every demonstration left Ye Feng half-dead. Yet Schwarzenegger insisted that only firsthand experience would accelerate his learning.

The result was inevitable: Ye Feng was left battered and bruised. Still, his stubborn streak reared up, and he gritted his teeth, enduring all of Schwarzenegger’s lessons.

Huaihuai snickered to himself as he watched poor Ye Feng, muttering inwardly, “Dear Ye Feng, forgive me! I had originally planned to start this training only after you’d made some progress in internal cultivation, but your enemies are just too powerful. Even with your current physique, you could easily handle a group of ordinary people, but it’s best to be prepared. If GOD comes for you again, you can’t just sit there and wait to be captured.”

Once a frail scholar with barely the strength to truss a chicken—well, now he was a bit of a strong fool—after meeting Huaihuai, Ye Feng received a wealth of experience and knowledge, much like those born with a silver spoon in their mouths, starting far ahead of others. With Huaihuai’s prescriptions improving his physique and the addition of combat training, Ye Feng felt truly formidable, at least in his own mind.

After suffering through hundreds of hours of beatings in the training arena, Ye Feng could now barely hold his own against his coach, Schwarzenegger. Occasionally, he even managed to block an attack and land a punch or a kick in retaliation.

“A genius… I really am a genius…” Feeling that he had become a combat master in just a few hundred hours, Ye Feng couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. He didn’t stop to consider how many days those hundreds of hours would be in the real world, or that in dreams, injuries healed instantly and he could immediately go another round.

“Don’t get too cocky,” Huaihuai said with a light laugh, sensing Ye Feng’s thoughts. “At best, you’re only at the beginner level—and still far from impressive. Even if you have Schwarzenegger’s combat experience, your body’s agility and reflexes are still lacking. You have a long way to go.”

“No way… this is only beginner level?” Ye Feng panted, struggling to fend off Schwarzenegger’s attacks, and complained indignantly, “I can just about handle Schwarzenegger now, and that’s still beginner? What would an advanced level look like?”

“Of course. What, you think Schwarzenegger is using his full strength? Right now, he’s only employing beginner-level skills. That’s the only reason you can keep up. If he switched to intermediate, with your current abilities… you’d be flat on your back in less than thirty seconds. Don’t even think about getting up…”

Ye Feng was left speechless by Huaihuai’s blunt honesty. If becoming a master was that easy, the title wouldn’t be worth much. For now, he didn’t plan to confront GOD directly; as long as he could take down a few fools when needed, that would suffice—after all, Ye Feng preferred to use his brain against enemies.

Huaihuai, seeing that the time was about right—Ye Feng had already trained for nearly seven hundred hours and consumed a lot of energy—said, “Alright, that’s enough for today. You’ve trained so long, you’ve almost drained all my energy. Once you can complete nine cycles in one go after you leave, I’ll have enough energy to support your training.”

Without giving Ye Feng a chance to reply, Huaihuai kicked him out of the training room—booting him straight out of the deep dream.

Ye Feng opened his eyes and saw the sky outside was just turning gray. He picked up his phone—it was a little after 5 a.m. Stretching, he got up and practiced a few evasive maneuvers from his dream training, feeling refreshed and clear-headed. This kind of training was really quite good; it built skills without wasting rest.

After calling out for Huaihuai a few times and finding he had vanished—likely out of energy—Ye Feng sat down cross-legged on his bed, resuming his monotonous internal cultivation, hoping to achieve nine cycles as soon as possible. He wondered, once he leveled up, would he become even more formidable?

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