Chapter Thirteen: Accelerating the Pace (Third Update) A Newcomer Earnestly Requests Recommendations and Favorites

Seeing that everyone in the office had been thoroughly intimidated, Liang Jing called out, “Zhang Huke, you all come in quickly.”

The buzzing grew louder and louder as the mutated flies turned their attention toward them. The bodies of the mutated black-backed dogs—now zombies—were far too tough for the flies’ mouthparts to penetrate. Moreover, it seemed these zombie dogs had no blood left for the flies to feed on. Realizing this, the swarm immediately diverted, flying straight toward Liang Jing and his group.

“You three, keep an eye on them. Don’t let them try anything! At the first sign of trouble, shoot. Don’t be afraid of killing anyone—there’s no public security bureau to worry about now.” Liang Jing’s command was ruthless; he was notorious for his vengeful and bloodthirsty nature—a man who never let an insult go unanswered.

Meanwhile, he directed the mutated black-backed dog zombie to quickly return and defend.

Swish!

Zhang Huke and his two companions exchanged uneasy glances, feeling that Liang Jing’s order was a bit too harsh. However, when weighed against their own lives, they hardened their hearts. If these people caused trouble during a fight with the mutated monsters, any loss on their side would be irreparable. They drew their pistols, leveling them at the people in the office.

Inside, four men and two women were frozen, terror-stricken by the gaping gun barrels pointed at them. Their faces turned deathly pale; no one dared move. A couple of them even mimicked movie fugitives, raising their hands in surrender.

Liang Jing, meanwhile, used Basic Insight on the incoming mutated flies.

Bloodsucking Flies: Level 3. Mutated due to environmental influences. Driven by a manic hunger for blood. Carriers of viruses and bacteria.

The description was simple and low-level, with not even a warning for danger. It appeared these mutated flies were not very aggressive. Still, their numbers were significant, and with the reek of decaying human corpses outside, Liang Jing dared not be careless. Each fly had two large crimson compound eyes, disgusting red bristles along their jaws and backs, red proboscises, and the rest of their bodies shimmered with a greenish glow. Each one was only slightly smaller than a domestic dog, their incessant buzzing making one’s skin crawl.

“Kill!” Liang Jing barked.

Slash!

With his short blade, he hacked at the lead fly, cleaving its body in two mid-air. The fly crashed to the floor, splattering amber-colored viscous fluid and a strange yellowish paste. The stench that filled the air was nauseating, and Liang Jing wrinkled his brow. He had always despised flies, finding them filthy and revolting—if one landed in his food, he’d lose his appetite for the entire day.

Fortunately, these bloodsucking flies seemed to lack any real offensive power. Their strength was comparable to an ordinary person’s, and their agility was far inferior to that of mutated mosquitoes. After all, mosquitoes were much smaller and harder to hit, whereas these flies were the size of small dogs, making them hard to miss and easy to kill. More importantly, they lacked any means of breaking through defenses; one-on-one, they were no match for humans.

Swish!

The mutated black-backed dog zombie returned, and Liang Jing stationed it in front of the office door to block and engage the flies. The office entrance was barely over a meter wide and just over two meters high—far too cramped for the flies to swarm in at once. With the dog filtering the attackers, Liang Jing’s pressure was greatly reduced. Apart from their speed, these flies had no real strengths—their proboscises were so short that any that got close were quickly dispatched.

By now, the four men and two women inside the office had been herded into a corner by Zhang Huke and his team. Two sides were pressed against walls, one side blocked by a desk, and Zhang Huke’s group sealed off the last exit, pistols leveled at them. None of them dared make a move, fearing a bullet at the slightest provocation.

“Um, could you please point your guns somewhere else? We’re not going to cause trouble, but we’re afraid of an accidental discharge,” pleaded the man in his thirties wearing a dress shirt, forcing a nervous smile.

The three guards remained unmoved. Still, Zhang Huke glanced at Liang Jing, seeking guidance.

“What are you looking at? Are you in charge of them, or is he?” Liang Jing snapped, dissatisfied with Zhang Huke’s hesitance. This young man, fresh from a rural mountain town, was still too naive and untainted by the city’s corruption. Liang Jing thought to himself that it might be time for this boy to learn a hard lesson, to see some blood.

But he had no time to worry about that now. No matter how much these ordinary people schemed, they couldn’t possibly cause him trouble. As he slaughtered the bloodsucking flies, his movements changed constantly—slashing, hacking, sweeping, thrusting, uppercutting—from every possible angle, engaging his entire musculature.

Liang Jing was experimenting, trying to exercise and exhaust every part of his body. On the first night of the world’s mutation, a night spent in ceaseless battle had taught him much. He hoped that by exercising while absorbing the monsters’ life essence (the white spiritual light), he could further accelerate his physical strengthening.

When the body absorbed enough life essence, the genes and cells would strengthen up to a saturation point, after which further absorption slowed. At that point, only through continuous physical exertion and exhaustion could one absorb more of the life essence, thus growing stronger.

It was like this: after intense exercise, a person’s appetite always improves, and those who maintain such habits grow healthier and stronger.

If, earlier, Liang Jing’s physical improvements had come rapidly, it was because his starting point was like someone malnourished and frail—once provided with sustenance, he quickly grew robust. But once he reached normal health, further gains became slow and required persistent training and replenishment to continue progressing.

Now Liang Jing was at this saturation point and needed to keep pushing his limits.

He was searching for ways to exercise and exhaust his entire body more thoroughly, like the martial arts tales of training flesh, muscle, bone, and marrow. Liang Jing was figuring things out on his own, but his ambitions were greater—he wanted to strengthen his skin, muscles, bones, and meridians all at once, inside and out. With no foundation or knowledge, this was reckless and even dangerous. A single misstep could lead to injury.

From this, Liang Jing realized the truth behind the saying, “Martial arts are a rich man’s game.” Training required endless cycles of exertion and replenishment; ordinary food and medicine could not adequately sustain the body through such demands. Only the best food and medicine, supplied over many years, combined with tireless effort, could yield results. And without a master’s guidance, one might easily suffer irreparable harm.

Now, Liang Jing was fumbling along blindly, relying on life essence from slain monsters to recover from injuries and exhaustion. The effects were remarkable—so long as he kept pushing himself, he could always grow stronger.

He had little else to worry about. As long as he found ways to continually exhaust and train his body, everything else could be entrusted to the life essence gained from killing monsters.

A low, guttural sound filled the air.

Swish!

Slash!

Liang Jing’s movements grew stranger and more varied, pushing his body to its limits with high-difficulty maneuvers. His muscles and meridians screamed in protest, but with grim determination, he ignored the pain, making his actions even more exaggerated and rapid. He believed he would soon adapt.

These bloodsucking flies posed little threat, and with the life essence they provided, this was an excellent opportunity—an experiment.