Ten p.m.
The Rust family.
A cloud of gray mist floats on the ceiling three meters above the ground, spinning around the bright yellow crystal chandelier, shuttling between the lamp leaves, as nimble as a gray bat.
It suddenly fell, dragging its gray cloak, and landed silently, turning into a faceless human form.
Huhu——
The "shadow" dragged a gust of breeze and rotated around Rust in the center of the apartment hall.
Rust put his left fist in front and his right fist in the back. He slightly raised his heels and maintained a boxing posture, but he did not hold his chest and abdomen in a standard manner, like a zombie dancing mechanically.
boom! boom!
Rust kept swinging his left straight fist, hitting the air, his movements were slow and weak.
Dean was dealing with a piece of steak at the dinner table and gave advice from time to time. Dean gained several months of comprehensive fighting training knowledge after his fighting was promoted to LV1, including some boxing knowledge. His theoretical level was enough to guide pure newcomers.
Although the injury to his left arm has not healed and he cannot improve his proficiency, Dean can also lay a solid foundation for himself through guidance.
"Don't stand still when you punch. Lean your body slightly to the right."
"I've emphasized this several times, keep your arms straight, don't be as soft as a rubber band!"
"The center of the fist is downward, so that the fist is at right angles to the target!"
breathe…
"Man, will it work if I just practice this trick?"
Rust put his hands on his hips and took a few deep breaths. Sweat soaked his white T-shirt and dripped down his chin.
"Can't you try a new move, an uppercut, a swing, a knee?"
"You want to run before you learn to walk? Go ahead and punch a hundred times. Once you have mastered your left straight punch, it will be enough to protect yourself."
…
Dean stuffed the last piece of meat into his mouth and looked behind Rust.
"Shadow" stood there, swinging his fists and feet based on the fighting knowledge shared by Dean, and his movements were so fast that they formed an afterimage.
There was a whistling sound in the air.
It has more tricks than Rast. It is not limited to boxing, nor is it restricted by fighting rules. It practices all the wrestling, boxing, Sanda, and other skills that Dean has mastered at lv1 fighting level, including knees, elbows, and every Any part of it can be used as a weapon, and its movements are fast and fierce, aiming at the vital points of the imaginary enemy's body.
Of course, replace it with a slightly larger open space outside.
Dean will directly order "Shadow" to use sharp weapons such as knives or daggers for shooting training. After buying a gun, he will train it to be a stealth shooter.
After practicing for thirty seconds, the shadow flew back to Dean's body, waited for him to rest for ten minutes to recuperate, and then came back again.
Repeatedly.
This is what Dean felt after many calls.
The shadow's existence for five minutes at a time consumes a lot of energy, and it must rest for at least five hours to recover.
But if summoned intermittently, each session lasts less than half a minute.
Then Dean only needs to rest for a quarter of an hour to relieve some mental fatigue.
Dean had done the math.
After this operation, the total summoning time every day will be doubled, the training will be changed from one-time to sustainable, and the efficiency will be greatly improved.
Of course, the ultimate tempering session before going to bed at night cannot be beaten.
Dean was obsessed with the pleasure of being so exhausted that he passed out.
…
Swish--
Shadow threw a punch.
The wind from the fist blew across Rust's cheek.
He screamed as if he was being greatly stimulated.
A smile appeared at the corner of Dean's mouth, and a touching text appeared in front of his eyes——
Your continuous summons and training have allowed Ying to make some progress.
Proficiency +1.
Shadow of the Past lv0(1/100)
…
Over the next few days, during the day at school, Dean practiced "Shadow" intermittently.
After school, he coached Rast in boxing and at the same time consolidated his own fighting foundation.
Before going to sleep, summon "Shadow" for extreme tempering.
On the way, I followed Grace to her friend's photography studio.
It turns out that the camera cannot detect the existence of "shadow" either.
Dean breathed a sigh of relief and thought about borrowing a thermal imaging camera to verify it next time.
In addition, he went to Dance Hall Street several times to look for Taimu's whereabouts, but he disappeared and never appeared again.
Dean could only follow Taim's guidance and inner intuition, and hide like an ordinary person.
Observe what that so-called "darkness" actually is.
Everything is developing steadily.
It's a bit regretful that five days have passed since the last incident of Mona's disappearance, but the system has yet to launch a new incident. I don't know if the school is too peaceful and there are no endless troubles and dangers coming to the door.
…
Thursday.
Lunch break.
After having a full meal, Dean came to the lawn in the front yard of the school and suddenly noticed movement near the white-painted leisure chairs in the distance.
…
A lunch box rolled down at Britney's feet, and her dress was stained with yellow curry juice. Rust stood in front of her in a protective posture, but because he was half a head shorter than the woman, the scene was funny.
Opposite me, a street girl in a leather jacket, black mesh socks, a nose ring, and black eyeshadow held the arm of a white man in a baseball shirt, raised her chin and chewed gum provocatively.
"Why are you teasing Britney? Apologize!" Rust was like a cat with explosive fur.
"It doesn't matter to me, Rust, let's go." Brittney tugged on Rust's clothes behind her, but she couldn't pull it away no matter how hard she tried.
The girl on the street spit out her chewing gum at the feet of the two of them with a "bah" sound, and glanced at her boyfriend next to her.
The baseball man took a step forward with anger on his face, grabbed Rust by the collar of his shirt, and almost spat in his face.
boom!
Rust decisively threw a punch.
The baseball man let go of his hand with an ouch, and a bloody fist mark appeared on the left side of his face.
Rust retracted his left fist, held his chest and abdomen, protected his arms in front of his body, and jumped like a kangaroo on his feet.
"Fake Squid!"
The woman let out a piercing scream, rushed over and slapped him.
But the thick-soled shoes under her feet tripped strangely in the air, and she fell on the spot and fell face-first, eating a mouthful of grass and mud.
The baseball man roared angrily and kicked towards Rust's lower abdomen. Rust ducked sideways sharply and hit the man in the eye with another clean left straight punch.
The man had panda eyes, his figure swayed, and then he covered his neck with his hands, opened his mouth wide, opened and closed his nose and took a deep breath.
But he was out of breath, hesitating and unable to make a sound, and his face was distorted with fear and turned purple.
Almost suffocating!
Bang bang.
Rust's left fist rained down on the man's face, beating him until he was bruised and swollen, causing him to sit back and fall to the ground.
The man's chest rose and fell, and he finally breathed fresh air, and his tense cheeks relaxed.
He pointed at Rust and shouted in fear,
"Witchcraft, this guy knows witchcraft, it's taking my breath away!"
After shouting, he took the girl on the street and fled in a hurry.
The audience on the sidelines commented in surprise,
"Cool, since when did this little man become so good at fighting?"
"He is inseparable from that barbarian, he must have learned Chinese kong-fu!"
…
"Are you okay? Are you injured anywhere?" Britney looked at Rust's face with concern.
Rust shook his head, a trace of doubt flashing in his eyes, why didn't that guy dodge when he was hit?
"Don't be too busy kissing me, it's time to go." Dean then came over, patted his friend on the shoulder, and recalled what he had just tried.
The "shadow" turned into mist and got into the man's mouth and nose, blocking his respiratory tract and almost suffocating him to death.
But when Dean ordered the shadow to continue to penetrate deeper into the man's head and torso through the nasal cavity and mouth, he was blocked by an indestructible invisible barrier and could not go any deeper.
Why is this?
"Can't a ghost completely enter the body of a living person? What exactly is that invisible barrier?"
He couldn't figure it out for the moment.
"In short, blocking the mouth and nose with a shadow to kill someone will not leave any traces of the crime and kill people invisible. This technique is called ghost strangulation."
…
After a small interlude, the three of them stopped at the school gate.
A group of people crowded outside the gate.
More than two dozen baseball players wearing baseball shirts, as well as the bald, slightly stout Coach Tom and Principal Ulysses, were surrounded by a tall middle-aged man in a black trench coat with a straight back in the center.
There is a hint of competence and composure of a business elite in the man.
There was sadness hidden in his round face, the deep nasolabial folds beside his aquiline nose, and his bloodshot eyes made him look very tired.
The baseball players squeezed in front of the man as hard as they could, with respect and flattery shining in their eyes.
"What kind of big shot is this? Those guys almost knelt down for him." Dean asked.
"This is James Lowe." Rust took a deep breath and became inexplicably nervous, "Bob Lowe's father!"
…
"Coach Tom, Principal Ulysses, and all the young people on the baseball team, finally, on behalf of Bob, I would like to say thank you again. I will always remember the care you gave him in the past, and I will do my best to repay you in the future. Of course, I hope that everyone will be able to go to the church on time this Sunday morning to see him off on his final journey."
"Hasn't the murderer been caught yet? Bob is going to be buried soon?" Not far away, Dean whispered to Rust in a low voice,
"You can't keep the body hanging there, right?" Rust replied subconsciously, "It's so hot in Las Vegas, and the body can't be left in the freezer for too long, otherwise it will stink."
…
"Normally in the baseball team, Bob was like a brother who took care of everyone meticulously. When he left suddenly, everyone was very sad. If you can help catch the murderer, you can do whatever you want."
The black boy Wazel assured with spittle.
James squeezed his shoulder gratefully.
Turning around, the principal held his right hand tightly with both hands. He looked sad and his eyes were red, as if he was the one who died.
"Classmate Bob has always been the ace of the baseball team, everyone's pride...a rising star of tomorrow...no one expected such a tragedy...Mr. James, you want to keep vigil for him, please take care of yourself, don't Be too sad."
James sighed, his face becoming more sad.
"Everyone, please excuse me. I have to go back to deal with his funeral affairs. See you on Sunday."
The man turned and walked towards the school gate, but within a few steps he caught a glimpse of Dean and the others who were observing not far away. He paused and walked straight towards them.
A tall shadow enveloped the three of them.
"Lassiter?"
"It's me, Mr. James." Rust tensed up, stretched out his hand involuntarily, and shook the man's hand.
He had never been so close to such a majestic big man.
The cold, thick palm was full of oppressive force, making his finger joints ache.
Five whole seconds.
James Lowe had complicated eyes and laughed at himself,
"I've heard everything about the party. I accept your criticism of Bob. I'm sorry for what he did in the past and the hurt he caused you. But please forgive Bob and don't let He takes away any sin he carries.”
"I am usually busy with work, and I was still handling business in Los Angeles on his birthday last Saturday, so I was not able to be there to celebrate him in person. I neglected to discipline him, which is why his character became so bad."
"Last, I sincerely apologize to you on his behalf."
"It's all over." Rust shook his head subconsciously, "I have already forgiven him."
"Thank you for your tolerance...may God bless you."
James Low smiled gratefully and turned to leave.
…
"Did I hear you correctly? A casino tycoon with assets worth hundreds of millions actually apologized to me, an ordinary middle school student?" Rust looked like he was waking up from a dream, looking unbelievable.
It would take ten years to brag about this kind of thing.
"If he apologized sincerely, why didn't he invite you to the church to attend Bob's funeral? I think you should be more careful. This guy is duplicitous and very scheming."
Dean stared at the man's retreating back.
Muttering about Ghost Strangulation, Silence, James...
For a moment, his eyes flashed coldly, and he looked like he was about to kill someone.
Britney was frightened and said "Ah".
Rust shook his head disapprovingly and advised,
"Man, don't think too much. Why should a billionaire waste his time arguing with small characters like us? Just because he has a relationship with Bob, you can't treat him as a pervert and a bad person."
"Okay, maybe you're right?"
…
James Lowe left Nevada High School alive, surrounded by three armed bodyguards in black suits and getting into his Cadillac in the parking lot.
James leaned back against the leather sofa, closed his eyes, and his chest rose and fell rapidly.
As the car entered the road, the driver wearing a peaked cap spoke in front of him with a strong Italian accent.
"Boss, we've found everyone... veterans from other places who participated in the war a few years ago. They are physically disabled and have post-traumatic syndrome. They can't work normally. My family needs money. As long as the money is given, they are willing to take it." Any job.”
"But are you sure you want to do this?"
James Low suddenly clenched his fists and opened his eyes. His face was as gloomy as water, but his eyes were filled with rage, like a volcano about to erupt and melt everything.
"I had nightmares for several nights in a row."
"There is a party outside the villa, playing music, dancing, drinking..."
"But Bob was lying in a pool of cold blood unable to close his eyes. From the beginning to the end, no one reached out to help him."
"My only son is gone like this, his blood cannot be shed in vain!"
"Understood, on Memorial Day, you will see a satisfactory result."
…
