The shop assistant’s smile had just begun to form, but as soon as she saw it was a plain-looking high school student, her face immediately fell. As a clerk at a high-end mithril jewelry store, she didn’t have many customers each day, but she could instantly tell that someone with real purchasing power would never be an ordinary, rustic student like this.

“Excuse me, do you sell longswords here?” Boy walked confidently up to the counter and asked.

“Longswords?” Although he clearly wasn’t a potential buyer, the shop assistant still forced a slight smile. “Little brother, this is a jewelry store, a shop for accessories. How could we possibly have longswords here?”

“But I saw one here before.”

“You saw one?” The shop assistant hesitated for a moment. “Oh, you must mean that katana. That’s our owner’s collection. He took it back a while ago—it’s just a decorative piece, not for sale.”

“Your owner?” Boy was taken aback.

“Yeah, our owner is also the boss of Kunpeng Martial Arts across the street.”

“Kunpeng Martial Arts?” Boy turned his head and looked out through the transparent bead curtain at the entrance. On the second floor of the building across the street hung a huge billboard, the four characters for Kunpeng Martial Arts written in bold, flamboyant calligraphy—impossible to miss.

“Sorry to bother you.”

“It’s nothing.”

This Boy was Grace Miller. After wandering around for quite a while, he finally found this jewelry store at the street corner, but the result was unexpected. He had only planned to ask about the price and then go home—after all, you need a goal to save up for, right? But now…

He also knew about Kunpeng Martial Arts. It was a well-known martial arts club in the city, offering training in Sanda, combat, boxing, taekwondo, self-defense, and more, with comprehensive facilities and equipment. He just didn’t know if they offered kendo training.

Given the situation, he’d have to make do with a wooden stick for now. The fees at Kunpeng Martial Arts were very high—far beyond what his family could afford.

Grace Miller walked to the side of the building’s entrance, where there was an advertising display case. One of the posters caught his attention.

“Talent Wanted—Kunpeng Martial Arts urgently hiring two Muay Thai instructors, two kendo instructors, and one boxing instructor. Applicants with advanced certification preferred. Monthly salary above five thousand. Also hiring…” The rest Grace Miller ignored. Five thousand was an extremely attractive salary in this day and age.

“If basic swordsmanship is really that good, maybe…” He knew that when a martial arts school was urgently hiring, it was usually for a pressing reason—maybe something like their sign being smashed. Places like this always needed one or two instructors to hold down the fort. These instructors didn’t usually show up unless someone came to challenge the school, but when they did, they had to be truly skilled, able to command respect. In his previous life, he’d trained at a martial arts club and once witnessed a challenge. All the regular coaches were defeated, and finally, a tough guy came out and knocked the challenger down in a few moves. He’d never seen that person at the club before, but from that incident, he learned the general rules of such organizations.

“Better go in and take a look first.”

As he walked through the club’s main entrance, a wave of cool air hit him—the air conditioning was set very low. The first-floor lobby was quiet and empty. At the reception desk to the left, a pretty receptionist greeted him sweetly with a “Welcome,” making Grace Miller’s bones feel numb.

“If you want to observe training, please go to the second floor. If you wish to enroll, please register here first.” The receptionist’s smile was mechanical—she probably smiled so much every day that her facial muscles had become stiff.

Grace Miller nodded and went up to the second floor.

A long corridor stretched ahead, with rooms on both sides—some closed, some open. Shouts and the sound of rapid blows could be heard from inside. Some burly men, draped in towels and wiping sweat, came out of the rooms—some in crisp white taekwondo uniforms, some bare-chested with bulging muscles. Grace Miller even spotted a couple of women among them. As a few of the big men walked past him, they left behind a strong smell of sweat.

Walking down the corridor, Grace Miller carefully peered into the rooms. Finally, he entered a large room filled with cheers. The place was packed with people—about the size of an indoor sports arena, probably the largest training area in the whole building. Over a hundred people surrounded a raised platform in the center, like a boxing ring. Whistles, curses, and shouts of encouragement blended together in a deafening din.

Heavy blows echoed from the platform.

“Beat her up! Beat her up!”

“Damn, a woman dares to get in the ring! Kunpeng, my ass—you should call yourselves Little Birds! Hahaha…”

“Why keep struggling? Kunpeng should just close down already!”

“Emma Clark, go! Emma Clark, go!”

Amid the chaotic noise, Grace Miller managed to pick out a bit of information.