In the dark cemetery, the sound of rain was mixed with a series of muffled sounds.
Dean punched the person under him on the back of the head like a madman. The hard fist was like a hammer, with a sound of breaking through the air, leaving a trail of afterimages, stained red and white, and then washed away by the rain.
Smash!
Smash!
The rain stopped.
Dean finally withdrew his fists stained with minced meat, looked at the head of the rotting coconut shell beneath him, breathed a long sigh of relief, and showed a winner's smile on his tired face. He stood up and left the bloody corpse and walked away.
A hand grabbed his ankle, and he lowered his head - the meat-like head turned around at the same time, revealing to him a bloody face with the left eyeball popping out of its socket and the bridge of the nose twisted to the left, shaped like an evil ghost. .
The facial features are exactly the same as his.
In front of him, Dean's one eye flashed with a bloodthirsty red light, his mouth grinned from ear to ear, revealing red teeth stained with broken flesh and a cruel smile——
"Well!"
A muffled groan erupted from the quiet bedroom.
Dean suddenly sat upright in bed and reached out to touch his pajamas. His pajamas were soaked with sweat. When he looked at the alarm clock on the bedside, it was only five o'clock in the morning, but he was no longer sleepy.
"Shet! There's no end."
He jumped out of bed grumbling, walked to the bathroom and looked in the wash mirror. The dark circles under his eyes became more and more obvious on his pale face, and his eyes were as bloodshot as a row of red textile threads.
Nowadays, he only needs four hours of sleep a day to maintain full energy for the day, but these four hours are restless, and all kinds of nightmares about the Death Eater always pop up.
As Taim said, the Death Eater's howl had a distinctly negative effect on him.
"We can only improve our meditation as soon as possible and add more willpower to get through it."
…
A nightmare is a nightmare.
Life must go on.
After no longer going to the LVPD to take on volunteer tasks, Dean has plenty of time. In addition to going to school and chatting with his friends, Dean loves to compete with Gretchen...
Combat has been upgraded to lv2, and his close combat ability has been improved in all aspects. Boxing, wrestling, Sanda, judo, grappling, and weapon fighting skills can be used as long as he wants to use them.
The level is probably equivalent to five or six years of hard training. If he participates in MMA, he might be able to become a professional player.
However, as the level increased, the efficiency of daily training further decreased, and the proficiency level was only increased by 1 point in a week. Dean thought that maybe by killing enemies who were proficient in fighting, he could once again experience the thrill of "riding on a rocket" to upgrade.
In addition, Dean also discovered the imbalance in his physical fitness. His agility of 12.7 allowed him to react superhumanly, and ordinary people's offense seemed to him to be a bit slow-motion.
The physical strength of 14.6 exceeds the limit of 12 for a normal male. His endurance is astonishing, and his skin and muscles have become tough and dense. Ordinary people's fists and kicks can't leave a mark unless they hit his vitals and vulnerable parts.
However, the strength of 11.3 seriously hindered these two items. Dean always felt that he was not able to perform certain fighting skills that emphasized strength, such as "Iron Mountain Lean" and "Lift Hug".
Gretchen saw his troubles and gave him a suggestion for special strength training.
Downtown Las Vegas, 24-hour gym.
The natural light illuminates a pile of neatly arranged fitness equipment on both sides of the aisle: barbells, dumbbells, gantry, bench press, chest press, rowing machine, treadmill...
Beside the squat rack, Gretchen was holding a 50kg barbell behind her neck, squatting down until her thighs were parallel to the ground, and then slowly moving up. As she went up and down, two new thin and tight muscles were braided on the back of her head. The boxer braid swings gently.
At the same time, the beautiful muscle lines between the gray sports bra and stretch pants tighten and relax, giving her a sense of strength.
Dean, who was standing behind her, was wearing a sweat-absorbent cotton blue T-shirt and cotton sports shorts with the hem slightly above the knees. The speed muscles trained through fighting were hidden under the clothes so that they were not exposed. It doesn't look as sharp and exaggerated as that of professional fitness athletes, and there are no bulging veins and blood vessels.
But when you reach out and touch it, you can feel that it is as clear as a barrier and full of explosive power.
Dean was regularly pulling the elastic band with both hands to do warm-up exercises. At the same time, he was watching the muscles behind Gretchen and studying the perfectly shaped buttocks she had worked hard to achieve.
Of course, in future generations, his behavior of peeping at women in the gym will definitely be criticized on his mobile phone and posted online - sisters, I met a man with a lower head in the gym today, he is so perverted.
Bangdang…
After fifteen squats, Gretchen put the barbell back on the squat rack, turned to look at Dean with a smile, "Do you see clearly?"
"I saw something." Dean put down the elastic band and handed her a towel. "Tighten your abdomen, lift your chest, and stick out your butt... The toes and knees are in the same direction, there is no deviation... The spine maintains a neutral position, without excessive arching. Or a turtle’s back…”
"The analysis is very clear. You've just finished your warm-up. Come and try!" Gretchen put down her sweat towel, called him to the squat rack, and selected the empty bar and 10kg breeding plates on the left and right for him, for a total of 40kg. Bear weight.
"Pull your feet together, about shoulder width apart, raise your head, chest and back straight,"
“It’s good to rest the barbell on your bulging traps and delts.”
"Inhale while slowly bending your knees and squatting, exhale while pushing your legs, beautiful!"
Under the careful guidance of the female coach, Dean carried a 40kg barbell for twenty full squats continuously, without compromising the standard of his movements.
"Stop, put it back slowly." Gretchen's warm little hands touched the muscles of his shoulders and thighs, "Does it feel like it's tearing?"
"I don't feel it." Dean removed the barbell from his deltoid muscles and twisted his neck, looking as relaxed as if he had been walking in the garden for a few minutes.
"The weight is too light, add more and find the maximum load."
Gretchen began to add weight plates to the left and right sides of the barbell. Dean kept shaking his head every time he squatted with the barbell on his back.
"No, it's too light, too light..."
"Next…"
"More!" Dean quickly reached the maximum weight of 100kg that Gretchen had practiced for a year.
"You only weigh 80kg, and you want to do 100kg for the first time?" Gretchen shook her head, "That's it for today, don't be brave, you will know how powerful it is if you hurt your waist."
Dean didn't refute, he just carried a weight of 100 kilograms and did twenty full squats in a row, breathing evenly, without a drop of sweat on his body. Now he could clearly feel the super endurance brought by his 14.6-inch body.
Gretchen gritted her teeth, deep envy flashed in her eyes——
Is talent really so much more powerful than hard work and sweat?
She reluctantly asked, "How many can I do with this weight?"
Dean smiled and said, "Always do it."
Gretchen silently lifted the weight plate.
And Dean's weight increased from 100kg to 180kg. Unknowingly, the sound of the equipment in the entire gym disappeared.
A dozen fitness enthusiasts who were deadlifting, bench pressing, and lifting dumbbells all stopped what they were doing and cast excited and expectant glances at him.
Two muscular male representatives came directly to the gantry. They were both dressed in sports vests and tight shorts, generously showing off their hard-earned chest muscles, which were at least D, their thighs with thick waists, and their thighs that were lifted up enough to hold a wine glass. gluteus maximus.
They also carry professional equipment such as belts, knee bindings, and wrist bindings.
"Man, good practice. This kind of weight-bearing is rare here. How much do you weigh?" One of the white bearded men stretched out his hairy hand towards him with respect. Well, the containment of his arm has exceeded Dean's. thigh,
"80kg."
"Do you want to continue the challenge?"
"continue."
"It's dangerous to go up any higher. We'll help you." Before Dean could agree, the big man called his chimpanzee-like companions to stand on both sides of the squat rack. "If you feel weak when you get up, Just remind us.”
Dean gritted his teeth and continued to challenge the weight under the gaze of more than a dozen fitness enthusiasts and two muscle guards on his left and right.
Starting from 180kg and going up, Dean became obviously strenuous. During each squat, the veins and blood vessels on his neck, arms, and thighs began to bulge, his face became slightly red, and sweat oozed out drop by drop.
200kg,
220kg,
240kg,
Every time he succeeds, the temperature in the air rises a few degrees. A group of fitness men and women look directly at his thighs and back, their scorching eyes seeming to roast him and eat him, depriving him of muscle strength.
260kg.
The barbell is slightly bent by the weight plates on the left and right sides.
The onlookers held their breath.
Dean was like a mountain lifter, carrying a barbell that was three times more than his own weight, squatting down until his hamstrings touched the gastrocnemius of his calves.
Then, the gluteus maximus muscles, which had been trained through countless mixed martial arts and shooting exercises in the past, began to contract and exert force, causing his center of gravity to move away from the bottom. His rear quadriceps muscles then exerted force, supporting him to stand up slowly.
During the whole process, Dean felt like he was transforming into a precision crane.
Every muscle and "part" in the whole body, especially the thigh muscles, all cooperate tacitly during the rising process, condensing into a huge upward force.
His face was as red as blood, and every muscle under his T-shirt was trembling slightly.
He carried a 260kg barbell and slowly stood up straight.
Bang!
There was a crisp metal collision sound, and the barbell was smoothly hung on the bracket.
In an instant, Dean's tense cheeks relaxed, and large amounts of hot sweat poured out from the pores all over his body. He was overwhelmed by the feeling of exhaustion and an ultimate sense of pleasure and accomplishment that was different from fighting. He grinned unconsciously. A smile.
Then the two muscle guardians on the left and right lifted his arms and lifted his feet off the ground.
"Congratulations, man! You set a new squat record in our gym, and I hereby declare that all equipment is free to you until the record is broken again."
A flash of surprise flashed in Dean's eyes. His strength of 11.3 meters was not up to the normal male ceiling of 12 meters. How could he set a record by squatting 260kg, surpassing these 1.9-meter and 2-meter tall men?
Could it be said that the power of improved fighting skills is relatively balanced?
Before he could think clearly, a Latina beauty with wheat complexion and cool clothes walked over to him with long legs. She smiled sweetly, gently stroked his back with her fingers, and gave him a shock.
"Do you practice wrestling?"
"Have some practice."
"Your thighs are so thin, it doesn't look like you've been trained. How can you carry 260kg?" Another bald man stretched out his hairy hands to open his trouser legs and studied the circumference of his thighs with gleaming eyes.
"What are you doing...ah, take your hands away!"
A group of muscular men and women blocked Dean in the center, asking for advice with their hands and mouth.
"Be respectful, everyone! Don't touch my butt!" Dean cast his pleading eyes at his girlfriend outside the crowd.
Gretchen flicked her braids, put her hands on her hips and looked at this scene with a smile. The depression that she had suffered before was swept away.
"Can't you keep squatting? Keep squatting!"
…
Since then, Dean has been going to the gym four or five times a week for free, doing bench presses, squats, deadlifts, and pull-ups to exercise muscle strength throughout the body and enjoy the pleasure of constantly challenging the limits.
Beyond fitness.
During the battle with the Death Eater, Dean realized that his marksmanship was severely compromised. His shooting skills were effective at a maximum of thirty meters, but the Death Eater's miraculous marksmanship was still accurate from 80 to 90 meters away, almost as good as A kind of superpower, and the distance it can be used is far greater than that of "Shadows of the Past".
Dean also looks forward to the day when he can have this trump card and no longer have to rely too much on the nine-minute super state of "Shadow".
Fight field shooting range.
Dean, holding a fully automatic Ar15, stood in front of the shooting lane, breathing evenly, staring at the target twenty meters away, feeling the slight shaking of the muzzle, while gently pressing the trigger with his index finger and holding it down. ——
Da da da!
The deafening sound of gunfire echoed, bullet casings were thrown away, and the muzzle of the gun was raised.
Dean fired off a magazine in one go, white smoke and debris flew into the air, and more than a dozen new craters were instantly added to the target in the distance.
"Well, the hit rate is more than half, and the performance is beyond the standard." Dean exposed his cavity and wiped it gently.
Next to the shooting lane, there were more than 500 shell casings densely packed at his feet.
During this period of time, he continued to shoot guns crazily, using half pistols and half rifles. He fed at least 500 rounds of ammunition every day, sometimes more than a thousand rounds. His shooting accuracy improved visibly to the naked eye, and he vaguely grasped the "intentional aim, unintentional firing" "The shooting feel.
If the shooting range was not open to him for free, he would definitely go bankrupt.
In addition, he was able to persevere, thanks to the strong recovery ability provided by his physique and Ironman talent. For ordinary people who practice guns so crazily, their wrists and shoulders would easily retire early.
Putting down the AR-15, Dean switched to a Remington M870 shotgun to shoot at a ten-meter target, and then a TAC-50 sniper rifle to shoot at a 100-meter and 200-meter targets. He repeatedly trained, experienced, and absorbed the shooting techniques of LV1.
In the last battle, the weakness of the pistol's short effective range and lack of power was completely exposed. If he had carried a powerful weapon with him at that time, it would have been easier to win.
It's just that he currently only has 3,000 in savings, so he doesn't have the confidence to buy a fully automatic gun, and he has no channels for the time being. In addition, the long gun is large and inconvenient to carry, and it is easy to alert the enemy when carrying it.
He couldn't help but long for it, it would be perfect when he could get super powers like storage space.
…
In addition to regular fighting, fitness and shooting, Dean spends three nights a week studying legends.
The desolate Nancheng Old Street.
Tribeca home.
"You're here just in time, today I have your favorite grilled fish." The kind-faced woman welcomed Dean into the house and quickly fell into a familiar rhythm.
Tribeca sat in front of the sofa, holding a tome of folklore that she had carefully compiled, and began to tell stories with great emotion.
Dean enjoyed a sumptuous dinner and asked questions about her story from time to time...
"The Wendigo is a cruel, vicious, supernatural individual with great spiritual power, originating from the legend of northern America."
"The Alkungan Indians of Canada also have related legends."
"Indian?" Dean took a sip of Asiaco soup. His mother and uncle were Indians.
"In the Indian version, the Wendigo is born from greed, destruction of the environment, and cannibalism."
Tribeca ran her fingers across the page, a giant monster with the body of a giant and the head of a reindeer,
"According to the information I have collected, a Wendigo has the body of a deer and the head of a deer. Its entire body and heart are made of ice, making it indestructible."
"It is 20 to 30 feet tall. Its big mouth is filled with sharp and protruding fangs, which can easily bite human bones. It is also extremely powerful and its claws are as sharp as a sickle."
"If you encounter it in the ice and snow, don't even think about confronting it head-on. Use the terrain to block its huge body and escape for your life."
Dean nodded, "Have you seen it with your own eyes?"
"I only heard from an old friend who settled near Rogers Pass in Montana in the northern United States. There was a time in the past that every winter, a few local residents who went out to purchase supplies would always go missing, and the local police station would report the disappearances. Scattered blood stains, irregular pieces of meat, broken bones, and huge non-human deer hoof footprints were found near the point, leading deep into the ice and snowy mountains, making the search very difficult."
Tribeca looked up;
"However, in the past ten years or so, this legend has slowly begun to fade away, and the number of disappearances has become less and less."
"What's the reason?" Dean ate the greasy rice.
"I think that Wendigo has moved to a place more suitable for hunting...after all, it ages slowly and has a long lifespan...it will migrate many times in its life."
…
"In fact, based on my many years of research on folklore and personal experience, I found that some of the man-eating 'monsters', including Wendigos and werewolves, have something in common. They can obviously satisfy their hunger with normal food. And it’s not difficult to get food, but they insist on eating people.”
"This seems to be a curse, an instinct engraved deep in the genes, but there is no conclusion yet."
Dean mused.
"And you know, such a terrifying man-eating monster also has some followers." Tribeca paused, "They worship monsters as totems and beliefs, and imitate monsters."
Dean put down his fork and suddenly felt that the marinated pork in the bowl was a bit harsh.
"These followers are just seeking psychological stimulation, or do they have mental problems?"
"No, they are a group of born abnormalities. Most of the time they eat ordinary people's food, but they must eat 'special food' every once in a while, otherwise they will lose control and become monsters dominated by appetite."
A flash of fear flashed in Tribeca's eyes;
"The appearance of these aberrants is the same as that of ordinary people, and there is nothing strange about their daily life. However, their physiques are slightly above ordinary people, and their sense of smell is extremely outstanding, comparable to that of hounds. They can smell the same kind of scent from several streets away. They can also smell other people’s physical health and use it to select prey.”
Dean's eyes lit up and he asked a few more questions.
The atmosphere in the hall was extremely harmonious and harmonious, and the two of them were like a pair of grandparents.
…
From early October to mid-October, for more than half a month, Dean's life was full and regular, he studied and trained well, and his various abilities were fully exercised——
Dean Lu
Character level: 2 (180/300)
Age: 18
Physical fitness: 14.6
Strength: 11.3→11.4
Sensitivity: 12.7
Perception: 10.4→10.5
Spirit: 14.3
Will: 12.2
…
Expertise: Slightly
Abilities: 5/5
Fighting lv2(0→2/300)
Shooting lv1(100/200→116/200)
Shadow of the Past lv1(22→37/200)
Balance Meditation lv1(73→88/200)
Mimic lv0 (countdown to five days)
…
"There are still five days to activate the new ability. I have to find a suitable target to draw some blood and prepare to fight in disguise."
(End of chapter)
