Chapter 57: Without Learning the Gun, How Can One Become a Grandmaster?

Shen He pondered in his room for quite some time before finally deciding to put away the ruby for now. He would wait until he completed his "Martial Artist" class change before deciding which piece of equipment to embed the ruby into. The ruby's properties were powerful, but he didn't know if it could be embedded more than once. Using something like this required utmost caution.

He was actually looking forward to seeing what good equipment he might get in the future, once he had enough points. Perhaps he would obtain something even more suited to the ruby. As for the clothes he’d received—an entire set from inside out—he packed those away as well. After all, they came from the mystery box and the style was decent; it would be a shame to waste them.

The so-called "Cheya-san's Camera" definitely had to be hidden away. After all, it was a contraband item. Despite being called a camera, it was actually a homemade firearm. Its true power was unknown, but one shot could certainly send Mr. Abe right back to his youthful years. That was the bond between Mr. Abe and the "Famed Gun—Abe Cutter"! It might prove invaluable in a critical moment. Shen He glanced at the camera in his hand and nodded quietly to himself.

As for the other items, the "Li Mei Barbecue Honey Sauce" came in a bag and looked like it could be used seven or eight times. The "Monkey Head Mushrooms" were a small box of biscuit-shaped pieces—ten in total. The "Little Blue Bottle" contained only 10 milliliters, enough for a single use, but given it could fully restore mental energy, the price was justified.

Staring at the pile of items before him, Shen He couldn't help but sigh deeply. He'd pulled a gold item in his ten consecutive draws, but not a single thing was immediately useful. Was he truly that unlucky? It didn't make sense! Was his ancestors' protection not working?

Shen He put his things away, locked the door, and headed to the training grounds. It was still early, and he could take the chance to learn some sword techniques from Zhao Qian, hoping to master the remaining three disciplines in a short time. The more skills one had, the better—especially for a genius like him.

He also planned to ask Lin Helu and the others if there were any local experts in kicking techniques, grappling, or internal martial arts. Before long, Shen He arrived at the training spot where he and Lin Helu's group practiced. That afternoon, Zhao Qian was scheduled to teach him blade techniques.

Zhao Qian had already prepared two training blades, their style resembling the horizontal saber. When Shen He arrived, Zhao had him warm up first.

“You already have a foundation with weapons,” Zhao Qian said. “There are differences between sword and saber techniques, but not too many. We'll go through some basic drills, and then move straight to the blade forms. With your talent, one or two days should be enough.”

Shen He nodded in acknowledgment.

He stood aside and watched Zhao Qian perform the basic blade forms. Zhao practiced the Tang horizontal saber style, fierce and sharp, his movements crisp and efficient, with a unique elegance all their own.

After a while, Zhao Qian stopped and said to Shen He, “These are the basics. Practice these today.”

Shen He took a training blade and recalled the demonstration in his mind. He then began practicing the basic forms in the open yard.

Soon, Zhao Qian scratched his head and said, “How is it you’re picking this up even faster than you did with the sword? Your movements are already precise, I don’t even need to correct you.”

Lin Helu and the others came forward, laughing. “Now you understand how I felt before, don’t you?”

He remembered watching Shen He surpass years of his own hard work in just a single day. That feeling was enough to make a man despair. Now it was his junior brothers’ turn to experience it.

Judging by Shen He’s performance today, he seemed even more at home with martial arts than before, and would likely pick up new skills even faster. If Lin Helu hadn’t watched Shen He progress from absolute beginner to this point with his own eyes, he’d suspect this was some prodigy raised by a prestigious sect sent to mock them.

He had originally thought it would take the four of them ten days to teach Shen He everything. Now, it looked like two days would suffice.

Zhao Qian glanced at Lin Helu. “Brother, I think Shen will have this down by the end of today. Tomorrow he can start learning the spear from Liu Yi.”

Liu Yi grinned from the side. “Who knows, maybe he’ll pick up the spear in the morning and the halberd in the afternoon.”

Lin Helu looked at Shen He. “You may learn quickly, but true mastery takes long years of practice. Don’t let your natural talent go to waste in the future.”

Shen He nodded and replied with a smile, “Don’t worry, martial arts have a bright future.”

Lin Helu and the others could only smile wryly at his words. They’d been training since childhood and knew well what the martial arts world was really like. If you were lucky, you could open a training school or become a fight choreographer like them. If not, you ended up delivering food, packages, or driving trucks—basically, all manual labor.

Seeing the expressions on his fellow disciples’ faces, Shen He understood their disbelief. If he hadn’t activated the system, he doubted he would believe in an impending apocalypse himself, let alone see the profession tags floating above Lin Helu and the others’ heads.

[Lin Helu]
[Level 5 Martial Artist]
[…]

[Zhao Qian]
[Level 4 Martial Artist]
[…]

[Liu Yi]
[Level 5 Martial Artist]
[…]

[Jia Gui]
[Level 4 Martial Artist]
[…]

Lin Helu the swordsman and Liu Yi the spearman were both, like Li Ding, Level 5 Martial Artists. Zhao Qian the blade expert and Jia Gui the halberd wielder were Level 4, like Li Jiaojiao. They were the backbone of the future. People like them would surely make their mark someday.

Zhao Qian cleared his throat. “Since you’ve mastered the basics and I don’t need to correct you, let’s move on to the real blade techniques.”

Shen He agreed. Lin Helu and the others made their way back to the film crew. After all, watching Shen He learn martial arts was sheer torment for them. Years of hard training were outdone by someone else’s two days—and that someone was also remarkably strong and fast, a natural-born prodigy. Staying would only dampen their spirits.

By four that afternoon, Shen He stood with his blade, having finished the lesson, while Zhao Qian, visibly dejected, squatted down and took a drag from his cigarette, exhaling without inhaling, his face hidden in the smoke to mask his sadness.

Shen He approached and asked, “Master Zhao, would you like to spar?”

Zhao Qian immediately waved him off. “Forget it. Even my senior brother calls you a monster. Sparring with you is pure self-torment.”

Shen He: “…”

He squatted beside Zhao Qian and asked, “Master Zhao, do you know if there are any experts in our province who teach kicking techniques, grappling, or internal martial arts?”

Zhao Qian looked at him in astonishment. “What, you want to master boxing, kicking, grappling, weapons, and internal arts all at once?”

“These days, no one’s fighting for the title of number one anymore. Beyond seven steps, the gun is faster; within seven steps, the gun is still both faster and more accurate. If you really want to learn, just dabble a bit. Otherwise, it’s more practical to hit a shooting range when you have time. In this day and age, if you don’t learn to shoot, how can you ever hope to become a true master?”