Chapter 55: Sparring

At night, as he lay in bed, Wang Zhi couldn’t stop replaying his fight with Jie Xi in his mind. He was well aware of the significant gap between them. There were no shortcuts—only step-by-step progress accumulated over time. If others trained for eight hours a day, then he would train for twelve.

Unfortunately, training no longer provided survival points, which meant a substantial loss of potential earnings.

The next day, as usual, Wang Zhi led his team to the training grounds. Fatty’s wounds had scabbed over, allowing him to slowly ease back into training.

Upon arriving at the training ground, Wang Zhi coincidentally spotted Tang Qilin from the day before. This time, he didn’t bother to greet him—he had no intention of giving the guy another chance to show off.

Observing their training methods, Wang Zhi found them rather ordinary, focusing solely on physical endurance. Meanwhile, the bespectacled man stood to the side, supervising the women and occasionally pointing things out. However, since Wang Zhi was too far away, he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

After watching for a while and finding nothing particularly special, Wang Zhi turned his attention back to his own training.

“Captain Wang, is that pretty boy new?” Fatty asked as he approached.

“It’s none of our business. A true master doesn’t show his strength so easily. Never underestimate anyone in this place,” Wang Zhi reminded him.

“Pfft! With that sickly look of his, how strong could he be?” Fatty scoffed in disbelief.

“Don’t worry about whether he’s strong or not. Just focus on your own training. Look at how many muscular men still haven’t advanced to the third floor. And yet, that guy, looking the way he does, managed to bring several women up here?”

“Hiss~ If I think about it that way, then those women must be quite powerful. But if they all follow that sickly guy’s lead, then he must have something special about him.” Fatty’s expression turned serious. “Now I get it, Captain Wang—I think there’s something fishy about that guy.”

Wang Zhi helplessly shook his head at Fatty’s slow realization.

“Yes, he’s not ordinary. So, focus on your training. You didn’t contribute much in the last mission—make sure to prove yourself in the next one. I’m counting on you.”

“Got it!” Fatty responded enthusiastically.

After a midday meal, Wang Zhi gathered the four of them into the training room. He planned to conduct sparring matches—not only to gauge everyone’s skill levels but also because real combat was the fastest way to gain experience.

Why the training room? Wang Zhi had learned this from Jie Xi. Inside, they wouldn’t expose their true strength, the rubber flooring prevented injuries, and without outsiders watching, they could focus entirely on the sparring matches.

“Everyone, draw lots. Matches will be randomized. Show your true skills, but for fatal or crippling attacks, just simulate the move—we all know what would happen in real combat. I’ll go first.” Wang Zhi announced before drawing a slip marked with the number ‘1.’

There were a total of five slips: two with ‘1,’ two with ‘2,’ and one with ‘3.’ The person who drew ‘3’ would sit out the first round and fight in the final match. Then, those who drew ‘1’ would face each other, and those who drew ‘2’ would do the same.

After the draw, Wang Zhi and Old He got ‘1,’ while Fatty and Liuli got ‘2.’ Su Muying ended up with ‘3.’

“So Sister Ying is the final boss, huh?” Fatty joked, looking at Su Muying’s slip.

“Old He, let’s go first.” Wang Zhi stepped into the center of the room.

They could use weapons or fight barehanded. If they chose daggers, they had to be sheathed to avoid injuries. In the apocalypse, barehanded combat was rarely a good idea. Both Wang Zhi and Old He opted for daggers.

Once ready, they slowly closed the distance. It was Wang Zhi’s first real fight against Old He. Although he had been a shut-in before, he had been training diligently since arriving here. Winning might be difficult, but he was confident he wouldn’t lose too miserably.

He waited for Old He to make the first move—attacking first might seem advantageous, but it often revealed weaknesses. As expected, when Old He lunged at him, Wang Zhi spotted an opening and countered. He blocked Old He’s attacking arm and swept at his legs. Thud! It landed, but Old He barely wavered—he didn’t lose balance. Not strong enough! Wang Zhi realized immediately.

Old He quickly countered, slashing at Wang Zhi’s leg. Thump! His dagger struck the rubber floor, just as Wang Zhi rolled away and reset the distance.

“Heh, I underestimated you. I’ll be careful this time.” Old He flexed his leg where Wang Zhi had struck him earlier.

This time, Wang Zhi took the initiative. With a quick step, he moved in, aiming at Old He’s left side. But Old He dodged instantly, making Wang Zhi’s attack miss. Before Wang Zhi could react, Old He seized his dagger-wielding wrist and twisted—disarming him. Wang Zhi knew he had to escape, but Old He had already swept his legs out from under him. Thud! Wang Zhi hit the ground, and Old He’s dagger was suddenly at his throat.

“I lost.”

Wang Zhi got up, rubbing his arm. What’s going on lately? First my left arm gets dislocated, now my right arm gets caught? If I weren’t stronger now, my bones might have snapped already.

“Fatty, Liuli, you’re up.” Wang Zhi called.

Liuli chose her signature long blade, Yeli Linglong, while Fatty went with a dagger. Though short, daggers were deadly in close combat, offering swift and unpredictable attacks. In contrast, Liuli’s long blade relied on powerful, sweeping strikes—creating a stark contrast in styles.

The match began. Fatty struggled to get close—Liuli’s defense was impeccable, leaving him with no clear openings. He circled, probing for weaknesses. Eventually, he lost patience and lunged forward, believing he found an opportunity. But Liuli swiftly retreated, flicking her blade to knock Fatty’s dagger aside before slashing at his midsection.

Fatty scoffed, ready to keep attacking.

“Fatty, you’re already cut in half,” Wang Zhi reminded him.

“Ah, come on! That’s so unfair—her weapon is too long! I can’t even get close!” Fatty complained.

“It’s not her weapon—it’s her skill with it. Your dagger techniques are still lacking. Raw strength alone isn’t enough. If you were barehanded, you might win, but no one here fights unarmed.” Wang Zhi analyzed their performance.

“Now, it’s Liuli vs. Old He. The winner will fight the final boss, Sister Ying. As for us…” Wang Zhi turned to Fatty.

“Why don’t we fight?” Fatty asked, confused.

“The bottom two don’t need to figure out who’s dead last.” Wang Zhi sighed. How low does his emotional intelligence have to be to ask that? Neither of them wanted to be the weakest, so they might as well not fight.