Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Nameless Technique (Part Two)

What was cleaning up juice compared to this? Zhao Li would gladly take on the task, even if it meant tidying up every dormitory in the building. He got to work immediately, only to realize he didn’t know where the cleaning supplies were kept. The old warden pointed to a cabinet in the corner, and Zhao Li instantly understood, rushing over to retrieve a clean absorbent cloth. He knelt and began scrubbing the floor with determination.

“Go easy—that’s the floor, not that fool Sanders!” The old warden, watching Zhao Li's cheerful labor, couldn’t help but bark orders from the sidelines.

“Listen carefully. No one else has ever learned this set of techniques. It’s different from their routines. Even if you practice, do it in secret. Don't let anyone else notice, understand?” Though it sounded like advice, it was more of a warning.

Zhao Li understood all too well the dangers of standing out—a lesson he’d learned during his first year’s cultivation assessment. Who would have thought that, even without making it to a school for geniuses, he’d have such an opportunity now?

What the warden handed him was an electronic flash drive—easy to keep on one’s person. “Return it to me when you’re done. I might just save it for my descendants!” Zhao Li hurriedly agreed; refusing would have been sheer foolishness.

As Zhao Li left, the old warden watched his back, as always. “I hope you cultivate well. Any future success will depend on your own effort.”

Zhao Li didn’t see any of this; he was still lost in the excitement of having received a new cultivation method. As he stepped out of the warden’s office, he felt so light he might float away.

Descending the stairs, he ran right into Jiang Hao. Jiang Hao was startled to see Zhao Li so lively. “Aren’t you supposed to be seriously injured?” He could hardly believe it; just yesterday, Zhao Li had been unconscious from his wounds, and Sanders was still bedridden. Yet here Zhao Li was, looking perfectly healthy. He began to wonder if Zhao Li had even been hurt at all.

“You’ve got three days off to recover—your shifts have been cleared,” Jiang Hao said mechanically, unable to stifle a hint of envy. This guy had shocked everyone on his second day by breaking the record for new recruits challenging inmates. What kind of training did he receive at the recruit center? His instructor must have been the best in the world.

A few days’ rest—Zhao Li certainly wasn’t going to refuse. After all, he’d be here for years, at least six without leaving the compound, and the only place to relax was a military base a thousand kilometers away. He might as well focus on cultivation here.

“Sergeant, honestly, you’re incredible!” Jiang Hao said as he bid farewell. Had this been right after Zhao Li woke up, the compliment would have delighted him. Now, after the warden’s guidance, it sounded more like encouragement to do better.

“Thank you,” Zhao Li replied politely, while secretly vowing to truly live up to those words.

With three days’ leave, Zhao Li finally had time to study the new techniques thoroughly. Whether the warden had arranged this on purpose, it was exactly what he needed.

He ignored his bruises and scrapes—simple injuries, nothing internal thanks to his basic body-strengthening art. In fact, the mutated version of this foundation technique still amazed him.

From the warden’s words, Zhao Li learned that the cultivation methods for special forces and regular soldiers were entirely different—more advanced and deadlier forms reserved for the elite. This was the second time he’d realized that, beyond civilian and military techniques, there were many other methods out there.

It made perfect sense; the basic body-strengthening art was itself a simplified version of some other technique. Surely, countless other methods existed, too difficult to teach broadly and requiring extraordinary aptitude. And the higher the requirements, the more formidable the technique likely was.

Stifling his excitement, Zhao Li returned to his tiny cell, struggling to calm his restless mind. He knew that agitation was the enemy of cultivation and that he needed to find stillness. Reluctantly, he used the basic body-strengthening art to center himself. After a meditative session, his mood was much improved, and even his injuries felt lighter.

He plugged the flash drive from the old warden into his room’s terminal. The contents appeared quickly: a complete set of cultivation techniques with no name, and an advanced grappling art whose sophistication was immediately apparent. No wonder the warden had said it would suit him—Zhao Li’s prowess with the police baton had already been widely recognized.

This grappling art was the perfect remedy for his weakness in unarmed combat. Even without having practiced it, just skimming the instructions was enough—if he mastered this, taking down Sanders bare-handed would be effortless.

Cultivation techniques were wholly different from combat arts; Zhao Li didn’t yet know what to expect or whether they might clash with his current practice. No wonder the warden had questioned whether he truly wanted to learn it; it wasn’t just a tempting offer—there were real considerations to weigh.

According to the introduction, the grappling techniques would be vastly more powerful when paired with the cultivation method. Zhao Li knew that standard combat arts in the army were basic, but this was something far beyond that. Still, did he dare to practice it? Standing at this threshold, Zhao Li hesitated for the first time.

In the end, he couldn’t resist the allure of an unknown technique. The warden’s words had stuck with him—no matter how diligently he trained in the regular arts, he’d always be an ordinary soldier. If he wanted to stand against these people, it was impossible otherwise.

Now that it was in his hands, there was no reason to hesitate. Zhao Li resolved to study the material in depth. The warden had said to return the drive after mastering it—did he really think Zhao Li could learn it so quickly, or was there another reason?

By this point, Zhao Li had stopped wondering why the warden treated him so well, or recalling the embarrassment of his last visit. It seemed the warden had absolute confidence in Zhao Li’s ability to master the technique—though where that confidence came from, Zhao Li couldn’t guess.

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Chapter Three. Climbing the rankings—your recommendations are greatly appreciated! Thank you all for your support!