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"Hey, isn't this the 13th, and it's here early today? But it's useless, no matter how hard you practice, it's still a waste! ”

"The early bird has worms, and the early 13th only eats!"

Several teenagers surrounded Ge Ying and broke into the training ground in a menacing manner. Ge Ying's eyes flickered, and he didn't speak, letting the young man next to him scold Gordon.

During this time, the teenagers formed gangs and formed several gangs. Ge Ying is fierce and shrewd, and his martial arts skills are outstanding, and he has become the leader of a group of people.

"No. 13, don't get out of here, our boss wants to use this field!" A short, ugly boy walked up to Gordon and shouted in a swagger.

Gordon glanced at the other party, then at Ge Ying, and left calmly. He didn't have the time to entangle with these rookies, and his time had to be spent on the next round of cultivation. What's more, the Cobra family has always been gentle and tolerant before committing the black hand, and it is too stupid to show its fangs early.

It seems that the 13th has no confidence and will back down. Ge Ying stared straight at Gordon's back, a cold glint flashed in his eyes, do you know that you are afraid?

After entering the base, Ge Ying relied on his original martial arts foundation and the systematic training of the Blood Prison Society, and his strength improved by leaps and bounds, becoming the number one master among everyone. His strength test ranking is second only to Atay, but the barbarian boy's use of martial arts is very clumsy, far inferior to him.

Ge Ying couldn't swallow the breath he had taken anymore. He wanted to find trouble with Gordon, but he was afraid that he would not be sure, so he instigated his subordinates to provoke Gordon as a temptation.

"This! Timid and useless! The ugly boy flattered Ge Ying and said, "Boss, he's scared to get out." ”

"No. 13 is running fast, and the martial arts of escaping for his life are quite decent." The onion-headed boy on the side said mockingly.

The group burst out laughing. They all looked down on Gordon, because on the first day of training, all the teenagers were tested for strength. Gordon's muscles are weak, and he ranks tenth from the bottom in the strength test, only slightly stronger than the nine girls.

In today's world where the power faction dominates martial arts and the strength of cultivators is judged by strength, Gordon's talent is certainly not favored and has become a weak person in the eyes of the teenagers.

"Boss, if you want to clean up this mess, just leave it to us. But No. 13 is very close to that brute and red head, so I'm afraid they will support this guy. The onion-headed boy rolled his eyes, deliberately involving the saffron who had a grudge against him.

"Then even clean them up!" The others were shouting in a goof.

"Okay, things you don't know should be taught a good lesson." Ge Ying sneered and clenched his fists, his knuckles gurgling. On the 13th, the three bags of water that you took away, I want you to spit out the blood of the belt!

Gordon walked into another training field, where thousands of swarthy chains of varying thicknesses were suspended, each with a round iron ball hanging from the end. The largest iron ball is more than two meters in diameter, like a small mountain, and the smallest is about the same as a grain of rice, which is almost invisible to the naked eye.

In the right corner of the arena was a row of weapon racks, with daggers, crossbows, triangular thorns, iron cones, and shurikens??????, all of which were used by the Assassins. Gordon drew a lightweight, three-edged thorn, walked over to a chain, and began to practice his stabbing strike.

The chain he had chosen hung a small iron ball, the size of a walnut. About three meters away from the iron ball, Gordon suddenly added, sprinted, bowed, stretched his arms, and spit out with a wolf's sudden momentum, and the three-edged thorn aimed at the iron ball with all his might.

The thorn is off! The iron ball did not move, and the three-edged thorn swept past the ball and fell into the air.

Gordon stepped back, returned to square one, and sprinted again.

Unlike the big iron balls, which practice strength, all the small iron balls are used to practice precision. The smaller the iron ball, the more difficult it is to be accurate, and the more difficult it is to aim in a rush run. Strictly speaking, you have to stab the center of the ball to be qualified.

Gordon's stab shot was off the course again, and he stepped back and moved on to the next one.

This is the easiest and most boring training. There isn't much skill, just repetition. It is not enough to have good eyesight, but also to practice countless times to make the body learn to aim and turn it into an instinct.

The reason why my father asked a ruffian to teach Gordon was that he wanted him to cultivate the instinct of the flesh from the most primitive fighting. A cultivator with instinct is often faster, able to avoid danger at a critical moment, and even sense bad luck early.

"Let the body grow a pair of eyes." Gordon meditated in his mind, running, stabbing, repeating.

Except for him, the rest of the people were not interested in practicing this project, because it was too tiring and boring, and there was almost no effect. But Gordon is different, he has a crazy enthusiasm for any training. His frayed calluses, sore muscles, and swollen veins are boiling: I'm alive, I'm no longer the cripple in a wheelchair!

"Ding!" The triangular thorn struck the iron ball, and the chain shook back and forth, splashing beads of sweat on the rusty iron chain.

At this time, Gordon heard a series of sharp and piercing sounds, which were the whistle of the training camp. He rushed over immediately, and all the teenagers arrived at the training ground on time and quickly lined up in a neat horizontal line.

A tall, burly, flower-faced man spat out a copper whistle in his mouth, shrugged his bald eyebrows, and scanned everyone with critical eyes.

He is the base's martial arts instructor, Leopard, with fierce eyes, a face full of flesh with patches of moss, and thick lips that have been turned out of his front teeth, making him look big and pointed. He held a thick leather whip rolled up, the handle of which struck again and again on his furry arm, and the dull sound shook the crowd to death.

"No. 1, your ass is so high, do you want Uncle to fuck you?" The leopard roared suddenly, and the whip swung out, like a jet-black python whipped on the eagle's ass.

Ge Ying was beaten and fell forward, and his buttocks hurt hotly, but he didn't dare to say a word, so he quickly got up and adjusted his standing posture.

"Number 11, are you snickering? **Bastard, you still look at others, what the uncle is talking about is you idiot! The leopard roared again, and with a flick of the whip, it flung at the saffron.

"Smack!" The whip was over, her clothes were torn, and a bloody streak was drawn from her chest. He gritted his teeth in pain, full of longing, the protagonist will always be in trouble at the beginning, and will be destroyed by evil forces, but soon there will be adventures against the sky.

The leopard's gaze moved to Gordon again, and No. 13's standing posture was impeccable, and he couldn't find stubble for a while, so he could only let it go with a cold snort. The leopard is not a purebred human, it has the blood of a leopard spirit, and its temperament is as ferocious, lustful, and a little cunning as a leopard spirit. He was instructed by the silver fox to deliberately suppress Ge Ying, Gordon, Saffron and Tracy, if the four of them were really undercover, they would inevitably show their feet under the pressure.

"I'm training in light weight today." The leopard raised his leather whip and yelled at the crowd, "Why are you still standing stupidly? Run to the sand pile training ground within 30 seconds, and hang up and fight if you are late! ”