Chapter 5: Diverging Paths
"Boosting my stats gets tougher the higher I go," Luo Feng thought. "Increasing speed from 23.8 m/s to 25 m/s? That'll take a year. Punch force from 809 kg to 900 kg? Even longer. I'll probably earn my Warrior title after college."
What if I black out again? Maybe my body would finally meet Warrior standards.
These weren't ordinary blackouts—they were triggered by migraines so intense his brain shut down.
Luo Feng had suffered migraines since childhood. Most days, they were manageable, but at peak intensity, they caused blackouts. It had happened twice:
At 8, after his brother Hua lost his legs in a car crash. Grief sparked a migraine so violent his heart raced uncontrollably, blood thundering until he collapsed.
At 12, during his mother's critical illness. Terror sent his pulse into overdrive, followed by another collapse.
Medical scans found nothing—brain science still couldn't explain it. But each blackout had a strange upside: his strength, speed, and reflexes spiked. By 16, he'd breezed through the Intermediate Martial exam; at 17, he'd earned Advanced rank.
Another blackout could be the breakthrough I need. The migraines had lessened after each incident. Maybe a third would cure them entirely—while supercharging his physiology.
But blackouts weren't controllable. In 18 years, only two had occurred.
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In the training hall, Yang Wu—scarred and burly—stepped up to the punch tester. Without proper form, he unleashed a flurry of strikes: thud-thud-thud! The screen flashed numbers: 956kg, 912kg, 936kg, 981kg…
Luo Feng watched, envious. His max punch was 809 kg; rapid strikes barely hit 700 kg.
"One day, I hope my full-power punch matches your casual hits," he joked.
"Kid, you're 18!" Yang Wu clapped his shoulder. "At your age, I was still Intermediate. At your rate, you'll crush the Warrior physical test in two years. A 20-year-old Warrior? That's gonna make people jealous!"
Luo Feng smiled. Martial halls only accepted students ages 16–30, as this was peak growth period. Early Warrior status often meant greater long-term potential.
"Hey, Madman—college entrance exams are coming. What's your plan post-grad?"
"Military academy," Luo Feng said. "Most graduates become junior officers, but with my rank, I should land in special forces."
Yang Wu snorted. "Security's great, but freedom beats all. In the army, you're bound by regulations. I'd go stir-crazy. I'd rather be a freelance Warrior."
"Freelancing has its perks," Luo Feng conceded, "but I don't want my parents worrying. In the army, at least the risk is lower than solo monster hunts."
Warriors had four career paths:
Military: Safe, stable, with family benefits. The state rarely sent Warriors on suicide missions and provided for families of fallen soldiers.
Martial Halls: Loose structure; joining Extreme Martial Arts (founded by the legendary Hong) offered global networks and resources.
Corporate/Clan Guards: Loyalty to a faction, often as armed enforcers.
Mercenaries: High risk, high reward, ultimate freedom.
"Army life is safe, but I need freedom," Yang Wu said. "This year, I'll retake the Provisional Warrior exam—I should pass. If I do, I'll tackle the combat exam immediately. I'm determined to become a Warrior this year."
Luo Feng's eyes lit up. "You're confident about the Provisional exam?"
"Ha!" Yang Wu grinned. "I've met punch force and reflex benchmarks for ages. My weak spot is speed—but when I'm on my game, I can hit 25 m/s. A little more training, and I'll nail it."
"Congrats, Yang Ge!" Luo Feng meant it—Yang Wu had struggled for years to reach this point. "What'll you do once you're a Warrior?"
"Join Extreme Martial Arts, of course," Yang Wu said. "Their system's flexible, with branches worldwide. I can rest when I want, hunt when I want—total freedom."
Luo Feng nodded.
"Madman," Yang Wu said, studying him, "you've got fire in your gut. I can tell—freelancing suits you. Extreme Martial Arts would back you, and you'd be free to grow."
"I…" Luo Feng hesitated.
Yang Wu laughed, shaking his head. "Freelancers face death daily, but that's where real growth happens. Look at any top Warrior—most are freelancers. The rush of near-death fights sharpens you faster than anything."
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That night, Luo Feng walked home alone under flickering streetlights, Yang Wu's words echoing.
Two paths lie ahead. he thought. One: military academy, steady graduation, special forces. Two: become a Warrior, join Extreme Martial Arts, hunt monsters freely.
Path one: safety, family security. Even if I die, the state will care for Mom, Dad, and Hua.
Path two: faster growth, bigger payouts, freedom—but constant danger. One slip, and my family loses everything.
Mom and Dad only have two sons. Hua is disabled. If I die as a freelancer, who will care for them?
I'll choose the academy.
In special forces, I can merge Military Martial Arts with Extreme Martial Arts. I'll still grow stronger. And if I fall in battle, my family will receive pensions.
But doubt lingered. Is security worth limiting my potential?
Glancing at his watch, he sighed. Focus on the exams. June will decide everything.