Cultivation always comes with its share of mishaps.
If there are no mishaps, can we even call it cultivation?
Bao Liu bravely collapsed to the ground, embodying his unyielding spirit.
"Stop the bleeding, quick!" Lin Fan was a little flustered, even feeling a bit guilty. Bao Liu's brain was already not the sharpest, and now with so much blood spurting out of his head, it seemed like Lin Fan had set a bad precedent.
After a round of emergency care, Bao Liu slowly woke up, his gaze still a bit dazed as he opened his eyes.
"Boss, what happened to me?"
A little dumbfounded.
He had slammed into something so hard that he blacked out. What could he say? All he could do was let Bao Liu rest properly and warn him not to keep ramming into things. After all, losing one out of just fifteen subordinates, reducing the number to fourteen, was really frustrating.
"What are you all standing around for? Start training immediately! Bao Liu has given you all a vivid lesson: Cultivation must be gradual and cannot be rushed!"
Lin Fan felt utterly exhausted. These juniors were just hopeless. How could someone end up like this trying to train in the 'Head of Steel' Technique?
As their leader, he thought of himself as just a regular guy—not much different from them, maybe just a bit more talented in cultivation. But talent or no talent, who doesn't know better than to recklessly ram into things like that?
Bao Liu lay resting on a chair, the bleeding wound on his head finally stabilized.
"Boss, I've let you down," Wang Baoliu said, tilting his head and looking genuinely remorseful and ashamed.
Lin Fan spread his legs, bowed his head, and sat there smashing a brick against his own head like some kind of automated machine.
"Bao Liu, your dedication to training is commendable. But didn't I tell you it needs to be gradual and step-by-step? Why didn't you listen?"
He tried his best to comfort Bao Liu, careful not to say anything that might wound his self-esteem. While it wasn't clear if Bao Liu would even pick up on those cues, as their leader, Lin Fan felt it was his duty to take such things into consideration.
"Boss, it's my fault. I overestimated myself. I thought my head was much harder than a tree, but I didn't expect the tree's bark to have bumps," Wang Baoliu said miserably.
Lin Fan raised another brick and smashed it on his head, shattering it to bits. "Right, just keep that in mind for next time."
After all, what else could he say? This wasn't really Bao Liu's fault; it was the fault of that unruly tree bark with its pesky bumps that made his head spurt blood.
"Got it, Boss. Once I've rested up, I'll continue training," Bao Liu said firmly.
Sigh!
Lin Fan was utterly drained. He had his subordinates train in the 'Head of Steel' Technique so they could form an Array to stand against their enemies. But looking at their current progress, forget about Arrays—could they even grasp the basics of this technique?
As for his grander ambitions, like forming a fearsome team that would strike terror into anyone who heard of them...
He even thought of a name already.
Saint Light Bald Strike Team.
Bald heads shining with holy light, upholding justice and righteousness, smashing enemies with their gleaming, unyielding domes to protect the safety of Jiangdu City.
But for now, that was just a distant dream. The reality was worlds apart from that lofty vision.
Far off.
Wang Zhou, hands clasped behind his back, stood observing the scene at the Martial Arts Training Ground. He nodded in satisfaction, clearly convinced that his judgment was spot-on in selecting such outstanding individuals for this important mission.
Though, on second thought, some things puzzled him.
What exactly was Lin Fan thinking when he chose the 'Head of Steel' Technique? Sure, the technique wasn't bad, but the process was undeniably painful.
Still, this wasn't a significant concern.
Seeing everyone work so hard, Wang Zhou held great hope for their future accomplishments.
Evening.
Some constables were preparing to head home, their hearts full of grievances. They wanted to go cry to their parents about how cruel their boss was.
But what they hadn't anticipated was something even more shocking.
Their parents actually sided with their boss, saying things like, "Those who endure the hardest hardships achieve the greatest heights," and praising Lin Fan for being such a responsible leader. Some even wanted to invite Lin Fan over for dinner to thank him in person.
At that moment...
They couldn't help but wonder whether they were even their parents' biological children.
The next day.
At the government office's entrance.
Lin Fan stood at the gate waiting, while the constables who lived in the government-provided housing were already assembled outside.
The other arriving constables felt a sudden chill run down their spines, as if something big was about to happen.
"Everyone stand together and wait for the others to arrive," Lin Fan instructed.
They had no idea what their boss had in store for them, but they obediently lined up. After yesterday's training in the 'Head of Steel' Technique, most of them had lumps on their heads. But thanks to applying some ointment, the bumps had all disappeared overnight.
Before long...
Fifteen constables were in position, standing straight and tall, their eyes fixed on Lin Fan, awaiting his instructions.
"Good, everyone's here. Today marks the start of Hell-style training. Take off your shirts," Lin Fan barked, his expression severe. His tone sent chills down their spines as they hurriedly stripped.
Though they didn't quite understand what was happening, they knew if the boss asked them to strip, then strip they must.
It was early morning, and the weather was on the cooler side.
The now shirtless constables were shivering slightly, but under Lin Fan's fearsome gaze, they maintained their positions without moving a muscle, waiting for his orders.
"Bao Liu, take the lead and start running through the streets of the city," Lin Fan commanded.
"All of you, start running!"
The moment the words left Lin Fan's mouth...
The fifteen constables began running.
"Bao Liu, pick up the pace. If you want to beat others, you need a strong body. Look at your physiques now—not a single muscle. Can you even call yourselves men?"
Lin Fan mounted a horse and followed closely behind.
On the streets...
Passersby stared with wide-eyed astonishment. They had never seen anything remotely like this before: sixteen glaringly bald individuals running together, their shiny heads reflecting the sunlight with a holy glow.
"Are these constables out of their minds?"
"Shh! Keep your voice down, or you'll get into trouble."
For the constables...
They were on the verge of tears. Boss, couldn't we run somewhere less crowded? The more thin-skinned among them were blushing furiously, wishing they could just find a hole to crawl into.
This was beyond humiliating.
To make matters worse, why did the boss get to ride a horse instead of running with them?
While Lin Fan was busy training his subordinates...
In a crowded corner of the city, two sinister pairs of eyes were locked onto him.
The two individuals, dressed inconspicuously, blended seamlessly into the surrounding crowd.
It was nearly impossible to tell them apart from the ordinary townsfolk.
Soon after, the two slipped away to a secluded spot to confer.
"It's not easy to make a move on him," one of them said.
"Does this guy even have any other way of living?" the other replied.
They were assassins sent by the Serpent Gang to eliminate Lin Fan. However, after days of surveillance, they found he rarely left the government office compound or acted alone, making it extremely difficult to find an opportunity to strike.
Taking action inside the city was far too risky.
As the deadline given by their superiors approached, their failure to act was becoming increasingly problematic.
PS: Thanks to "Lychee-Flavored Candy" for the generous reward.