Chapter 7: Learning Instinct, Dominant Big B!

“Power rises from the hips, strength surges from the waist, energy flows through the arm, and force reaches the fist’s edge.”“A weapon is an extension of the body. Train until it feels like a limb, with strength coursing through your blood and intent unifying your body, to glimpse the martial art of ‘man and weapon as one.’”

In the training ground, Cheng Ye moved swiftly, reciting Liu Bi’s teachings while slashing with a short knife.

Unfortunately, Liu Bi’s majestic blade techniques, in his hands, felt more like chopping vegetables for dinner.

Soft and weak, with little force transmitted.

The knife struck the ironwood dummy, bouncing off and leaving a barely visible nick.

“Modern people’s bloodlust and killing instinct have been dulled by civilized education. I’d need to watch a dozen short videos just to work up the nerve to kill a chicken. Slashing at people with a knife…”

Cheng Ye shook his head. “If I’m relying on self-study without reckless bravado, I might train for a year and still not be confident against a basic infected.”

“But luckily, I have another way.”

Sheathing the knife, Cheng Ye moved to a corner and mentally opened the panel.

[Collector: Cheng Ye]

[Current Rank: Lv.1 Trainee]

[Life Level: 0]

[Skills: None, None, None (Available: Beast Instinct, Basic Power)]

“Equip Basic Power!”

With a mental command, a buzz hit his mind, like a hammer striking his skull, stars bursting before his eyes, temples throbbing.

It felt as if an invisible hand pried open his head, shoving in memories that weren’t his.

Chopping, thrusting, upward slashes…

In a blurry sea of consciousness, a dark-skinned man wielded a long knife, slashing repeatedly with clumsy yet ferocious vigor.

It was as if a moment passed, or a month, a year, or years!

When Cheng Ye came to, the man was gone, leaving only the short knife slightly raised in his hand.

“This feeling…”

Instinctively, he swung the knife. Though still awkward, the force was utterly different.

From hips to waist, to arm, to weapon!

The force line he’d imagined countless times finally connected. Each swing felt like running, growing stronger, more fluid!

“Amazing, absolutely amazing!”

“This slash isn’t just a downward press—it’s hips driving the waist, waist lifting the arm, turning the body into a lever, delivering a hammer-like strike.”

Liu Bi had taught three moves: downward slash, thrust, diagonal lift.

Each was a lethal strike. Cheng Ye once thought they lacked power, but with the skill’s muscle memory, they now radiated killing intent.

The knife struck the wooden dummy, sparking faintly.

Checking the mark, Cheng Ye’s pupils shrank. The cut was two centimeters deep, slightly above the minimum required for external duty melee combat.

“Pity. The technique’s there, but my physical strength’s the bottleneck.”

“If I had Big B’s power, this slash could hit five, maybe six centimeters.”

After assessing, Cheng Ye tried the other skill.

But first, he unequipped Basic Power.

The tide of muscle memory faded instantly. The knife, moments ago wielded with growing ease, felt clumsy again.

The fluid force of the three moves vanished.

He swung a downward slash at the dummy.

As expected, the initial shallow nick was replaced by a clear cut, about seven or eight millimeters deep.

“If that’s the case, three skill slots are more than enough for now!”

Cheng Ye nodded, thrilled.

Equipping skills granted not just experience but matching muscle memory.

Unequipping removed the memory, but the experience and understanding remained.

To put it simply, equipping a skill was like a master imparting power, instantly granting high-level mastery and matching strength.

Unequipping took back the strength, but the mastery and insights stayed.

“With the mastery, I know how to train, how to exert force, and I can re-equip to spot practice errors. This is better than a martial arts master teaching hands-on.”

Cheng Ye basked in his joy.

Liu Bi, the brute, was a top-tier fighter but a terrible teacher.

All he said was “learn anger” or “abandon reason.”

Only Cheng Ye’s strong learning and mimicry skills hid their genetic gap.

“Wait, didn’t I soul-transmigrate? Shouldn’t I have a modern mind wasteland combat ability?”

Thinking it over, he chalked it up to his predecessor’s genes being an outlier for this era. Otherwise, Cheng Long wouldn’t have sent his son to the inner city early, teaching him no combat skills.

Re-equipping Basic Power, the familiar muscle memory returned.

This time, his body only trembled slightly, fully accepting the memories.

“Seems the first equip needs a safe environment. After that, re-equipping has much less impact.”

Noting this, Cheng Ye quickly equipped Beast Instinct.

“Huh?”

Braced for a memory surge, he was puzzled when, after a few seconds, he felt nothing.

Unequipping and re-equipping, still no difference.

“A passive skill, maybe?”

He frowned, pondering.

Just then, his defense comm buzzed on the ground.

[Liu Bi: I’m at the entrance. Come eat.]

To test the skills’ effects, Cheng Ye had skipped dinner after clocking out, heading straight to the training ground.

Focused on knife practice, he hadn’t noticed his hunger, but now, seeing the message, he felt ravenous, like he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Must be the new muscle memory burning energy.”

Slotting the training knife into its rack, Cheng Ye hurried to the exit, spotting Liu Bi waving with a bag in hand.

“Big B, you hit the jackpot? I said nutrient paste was fine.”

Opening the bag, Cheng Ye froze.

Two full bags of synthetic jerky and three palm-sized soda breads, despite some moldy edges—a rare delicacy in the wasteland, even in the inner city!

“The jerky’s Garcia’s apology. The bread’s from Old Ding.”

Liu Bi’s voice was low.

Cheng Ye noticed his mood seemed off. Despite a forced smile, a shadow lingered in his eyes.

“What happened?”

“I hung Garcia up and beat him. He’s in the infirmary now.”

Liu Bi spoke flatly, as if it was unrelated to him, making Cheng Ye’s eyelids twitch.

Bro, you beat someone to the infirmary, so why do you look like got beat?

Wait, you beat Garcia over the 5 contribution points I paid?

No way, right?

“It’s not… because of me, is it?”

“Partly, but not entirely,” Liu Bi shook his head. “Swapping people between inspectors is within the rules, but that jerk ran his mouth after hours, calling you a wet-behind-the-ears kid leaning on my name to threaten him, saying the Eastern faction’s got no one left. Laughable.”

“Not to mention your dad saved Garcia’s father on a mission back then. With the East-West feud at its peak, he shouldn’t be the one playing the loudmouth.”

“Old Ding told you to do it?”

Cheng Ye began to understand, his brows furrowing.

His good mood from his strength boost calmed.

It should’ve been a small matter, but with the East-West faction feud, everyone was a card in Ding Yishan and Harlin’s game.

With the Eastern faction weakened, Cheng Ye’s card wasn’t as strong as Garcia’s. Losing face, Ding Yishan had to play a bigger card to regain control.

“Let’s not talk about it. Eat, then train. No conspiracy beats raw strength.”

Liu Bi waved it off.

They squatted by the bus stop. Cheng Ye ate fast, polishing off two bags of jerky and two hard soda breads.

Poor scholars, rich warriors, without enough energy, training only weakens you.

“Your appetite’s grown. Looks like your training’s paying off.”

Liu Bi was surprised, but Cheng Ye’s performance in the training ground shocked him more.

Shooting practice aside, that’s a slow grind, even for sharpshooters fed by countless bullets.

In close combat, yesterday Cheng Ye attacked, Liu Bi defended. Today, they switched.

“Here I come!”

Liu Bi roared, full of bravado, but his punch carried only a fraction of his strength.

A dull impact sounded as Cheng Ye blocked with his elbow, sinking his shoulder and whipping his arm down like a lash.

“Bold!” Liu Bi’s pupils shrank. Not dodging, he took the hit on his forearm, feeling the force.

His dark skin reddened from the blow.

Though his sturdy bones absorbed most of the impact, the remaining force pricked his ulnar nerve like a needle, causing pain.

Finally, some real strength!

Liu Bi narrowed his eyes. Days ago, Cheng Ye couldn’t even break his defense. Today, he felt pain.

This leap wasn’t just surprising—it was shocking.

“Get ready, I’m getting serious!”

Saying so, Liu Bi upped his force from one-tenth to two-tenths.

It didn’t sound like much, but it doubled, instantly pressuring Cheng Ye.

“Big B’s fought and killed for over twenty years, taken down tens of thousands of infected. Too strong.”

“But I’m not weak today!”

Chop, smash, block, swing—Basic Power’s techniques flowed through his fists and arms.

A beastly aura rose from Cheng Ye.

Liu Bi was startled, unconsciously raising his force by half a tenth, then another, and another…

Cheng Ye flew back, crashing into the ironwood dummy, nearly vomiting the jerky he’d eaten.

“Damn it!”

Liu Bi’s face changed, darting like an arrow to catch him.

He didn’t know why, but for a moment, he’d felt like facing a mutant beast, instinctively upping his force to four-tenths!

That punch equaled twenty years of an ordinary person’s skill. How could Cheng Ye block it?

“B… your sparring… deserves a pay cut!”

Cheng Ye dry-heaved, blood seeping from his lips.

Only after suppressing the roiling in his chest did he manage to quip.

That punch felt like being hit by a truck on a highway, sent flying without a chance to resist.

No techniques, no power, no Beast Instinct…

Wait, it was more like Beast Mode.

Recalling his state, it was like he’d been possessed. Attacking and defending, he’d followed Liu Bi’s advice, acting not with thought but with instinct and reflex.

“My bad, my bad.”

Liu Bi apologized profusely, his eyes gleaming with joy, the earlier gloom gone. He grinned, “Your dad lied again. Your talent’s definitely above mine!”