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At four o'clock in the morning, Gordon opened his eyes punctually and awoke from his slumber.

The small room shimmered with a misty light, and he glanced at the hourglass, got out of bed, picked up a sharp gravel, and made a shallow mark in the corner of the wall.

There were thirty-six scratches on the mottled sand wall, meaning that he had spent thirty-six days at the base.

Gordon twisted his neck, wrists, and ankles, moving his limbs step by step. First, he wrapped his hands and feet, curled up like a ball, and then his legs were stretched apart, splitting in a zigzag shape...... Since learning martial arts at the base, he now has a good auxiliary effect in juggling. Since he decided to follow the path of the school of skill, the flexibility and coordination of the limbs are particularly important, and this secret tradition of the ancient school of acrobatics is unique in this regard.

Nearly 100 wind holes on his body opened, and the breath microtechnique was like a surging wave, rushing through the wind holes, making a twisted acrobatic movement become as smooth as water. His degree is also getting faster and faster, and he can complete one movement in one second, and connect to the next.

Half an hour later, Gordon's whole body was hot, sweating slightly, the qi and blood in his body were smooth, and even the wind vents were a little more comfortable, and between inhaling and exhaling, his body was so light that it seemed to float.

He changed into his training clothes, pushed open the cave door, and walked to the dining area.

It was still early in the morning training, and the other teenagers were still asleep, and only two chubby cooks were busy preparing breakfast in the dining area. One holds a steel fork and takes hot croissants from the oven and places them in a bamboo basket on the dining table. The other is to cut the marinated meat into many thin slices and fry them in an iron pan, which is full of fat and fragrant.

On the table were several large vats of honey water, a bottle of bright red plasma, a basin of garlic sausages, a large basin of cereal tossed with raisins, and a basket of boiled bird eggs in salt water. The eggs are large, like the eggs of a falcon, and the grayish-white shells are covered with small round spots of blue.

As Gordon sat down at the table, the two cooks glanced at him indifferently, still going about their business as if they had not seen him at all. But Gordon still felt them peering at him, and from time to time there was a sharp light under his soft eyelids.

There are dozens of these handymen throughout the base, and they are the pervasive eyes of the Blood Prison Society, keeping an eye on the new teenagers, secretly observing their every move, and reporting some abnormal behavior.

In addition, there are more than a hundred cultivators of the Blood Prison Society who are responsible for security, vigilance, and patrols. And this is only the number of people Gordon saw on the bright side, and it is extremely difficult to make ghosts in the base.

Gordon picked up the vial and drank it down. Plasma is the heart blood of the fierce beast, the fishy smell is tangy, sour and difficult to swallow, but it is a good thing to replenish qi and blood. Limited to one bottle of plasma per breakfast on a first-come, first-served basis. Gordon has always been the first to come and occupy this greatest advantage.

He put down the empty bottle, picked up an egg, cracked open the shell, and sucked the half-cooked egg inside. The eggs are fragrant and melt in your mouth, giving rise to a hint of sweetness along your throat.

In terms of food, the Blood Hell Society is not harsh, and melons, fruits, fish and meat are openly supplied, all of which are some foods that replenish qi and soothe the nerves. To Gordon it was crude mass goods, but for most child slaves from poor backgrounds, the temptation of a sumptuous and delicious feast in the Blood Prison was hard to resist. What's more, the silver fox said that once you become an assassin, earning gold coins is as easy as drinking water, who would be willing to leave?

In this way, it will take a few years for the Blood Prison Society to domesticate the teenagers into loyal lackeys. Gordon twisted the eggshells in his hands, these teenagers were all his enemies, and they all deserved to be killed.

He ate five more eggs, six garlic sausages, three croissants with cured meat, a plate of cereal tossed with raisins, and half a jar of honey water. Although he eats a lot and eats quickly, his eating movements are still gentle and elegant. Since the micro-breathing technique entered a new stage of wind holes, Gordon's appetite has increased day by day, and he has even surpassed the big stomach king Atai. But he didn't gain weight, and the energy of his food seemed to have been consumed by the micro-breathing technique.

At five o'clock, Gordon finished his meal and rushed to the training ground.

The scheduled time for the training camp is 6 o'clock in the morning, and at this time, the training ground of the University is silent. Gordon walked under the towering sand wall, looking extremely thin, but his quiet steps had a momentum of its own, like a fierce beast slowly walking into the territory.

Sand walls crisscross the training ground, dividing the training ground into lattice-like areas. The smallest lattice area covers an area of kilometers, and the largest is tens of thousands of square meters. Each area has its own topography, facilities, and equipment, and the training objectives and difficulty are also different.

Gordon walked into a lattice area covered with sand, stood still for a moment, and slowly relaxed.

In the daily martial arts training, he always came the earliest and practiced the hardest, like a silent iron embryo, repeatedly calcined and refined in the furnace. Even during the prescribed rest time, he was immersed in cultivation and did not chat and play like other teenagers.

Gordon was accustomed to this ascetic life. The tightening of the wire can only cut the throat.

He spread his arms, sank his shoulders, held his chest, collapsed his waist, and his left foot was violently forced, and his body was overwhelmed, and he practiced a set of "bird sweeping".

The Fowl Strike was a basic Assassin skill taught by the Blood Hell Society, which could be performed with bare hands or with the help of short blades such as daggers and hand knives. It is divided into seven parts: cat pounce, rat drill, fish flip, rabbit kick, wolf protrusion, snake walking, eagle flying, implying thorns, cutting, hooking, wiping, shocking, winding and other luck methods, the style is tricky and flexible, weird and changeable.

Although this set of martial arts is not a profound secret book, the moves are meticulous and complex, and can be disassembled into four hundred and ninety most basic technical movements, comprehensively covering all kinds of basic body techniques, and far surpassing ordinary martial arts in terms of stabilizing the foundation.

Sometimes like a civet cat fluttering butterflies, sometimes like a fish leaping waves, Gao Deng's body spreads, swims and jumps, and the birds are tirelessly used over and over again. Every movement is extremely accurate, like a copy of a textbook, there is no deviation in the angle and position, and the timing of the shot is just right.

Hunting! Gordon fell abruptly forward, his waist and abdomen twisting and swimming against the sand, his palms like the core of a snake. When he practiced to a hearty place, his muscles, bones, tendons, and blood vessels swelled rapidly, giving birth to small source particles. These source particles are constantly being generated and dissolved, strengthening the body over and over again. The deeper the martial arts, the more source particles are generated, and the faster the physical body will improve.

Once the bird plunder reaches the full state, the source particles will condense and collect under the heart to form the source force.

The source force marks that the cultivator has officially stepped into the black lead level from the status of an apprentice, and has become the storage of ordinary people. The source power is similar to the soil, nourishing the Demon Tree, causing it to grow roots and branches, and even produce magical fruits. The greater the cultivator's source power, the more vibrant the Demon Life Tree becomes, the stronger its physique will be, and its lifespan will be extended accordingly.

After twenty bird strikes in a row, Gordon was so tired that he was sweating profusely, but his breathing was not a little short. The wind hole swallows the breath, and the breath microtechnique runs through every movement, as if the undercurrent shuttles under the calm sea, surging silently.

From beginning to end, Gordon didn't do it with all his might, only half of it. The other half of the time he will always be hidden, as a hole card in the fight for life and death. Father Don? Gauss once warned him that a true master will always leave a few unknown hole cards.

Eagle Soar! Soaring high and high like a goshawk, the source particles circulating endlessly between the outstretched arms. When he took off, Gordon's mind suddenly appeared in his mind the majestic posture of the wolf vulture circling the Gobi, and unconsciously imitated it: his back arched like a wolf, his arms fluttered like wings, and his legs swept like a wolf's tail.

The source particles suddenly induced, and immediately rolled along the legs, back, and arms, like a torrent rushing out of the floodgate, and finally condensed in the palm of the hand.

"Bang!" Gordon swooped down, his five fingers closed like an eagle's beak, and he thrust forward and pecked at the ground. The sand particles flew in response, and the fingers were inserted into the ground, creating a deep small sand pit.

Gordon pulled his palm out of the bunker and looked at the dust around him. This blow made him think suddenly, imitating the swooping posture of a wolf vulture, and even caused the source particles to temporarily penetrate into a stream, exceeding the original power of the eagle soaring. It's just that this blow is still not perfect, because although the wolf vulture is fierce, it is silent at the moment it lands, and the momentum is completely restrained. Only when the sand and dust are not raised and the strength is not leaked in the slightest can he truly comprehend the charm of the vulture.

Gordon pondered as he patted the dust off his body and prepared to rush to another training field.