The time spent in the virtual space was not wasted. Sean Carter was either doing calisthenics or practicing basic wood chopping, determined to engrave all of this deep into his bones. That way, during the day, as long as he tried to maintain a reasonable balance between body and mind, he could continue to make faster progress.

It had only been seventy days since he got Learning Machine No. 1. In that time, he was already able to practice the third movement of the third set of calisthenics.

Without the tireless effort he put in both in the virtual space and the real world, he could never have made such great progress.

Perhaps, only someone like him—who had lived a whole life and deeply understood the impermanence of life—would seize every opportunity to improve himself, racing against time.

Now, the time differential had reached one to four, which was really too long for Sean Carter. But the only thing that comforted Sean Carter was that in this space, he would never feel fatigue or physical exhaustion, allowing him to keep training endlessly.

Even No. 1, such a strict instructor, would occasionally praise him as the most hardworking disciple he had ever taught.

Although Sean Carter was quite skeptical about whether No. 1 had ever taught anyone else, it was undeniable that the two of them had worked together perfectly during this period.

The next morning, Sean Carter got up earlier than ever before, even beating Old Miller, and told his father in an absolutely firm, non-negotiable tone that he wanted to learn blacksmithing from Master Warren Clark, the senior blacksmith.

Faced with this request, Old Miller finally nodded in agreement after thinking it over all morning.

In the eyes of these farmers, if their child could become an apprentice to a senior professional, it was definitely something to celebrate.

However, becoming an apprentice to Master Warren Clark was not an easy thing. According to Aunt Joyce Harris, all the strong, eligible youths from more than a dozen nearby villages had signed up. The youngest among them was already fifteen, and many were well-known local brawlers.

If Old Miller hadn’t witnessed the strength Sean Carter had shown over the past two months, he would never have agreed to this.

Not long after, Aunt Joyce Harris arrived with three youths.

Though called “youths,” all three were sixteen or seventeen years old, much taller than nine-year-old Sean Carter.

When Joyce Harris heard that Sean Carter also wanted to sign up, her mouth fell open in astonishment.

But faced with the silent Old Miller and the pleading face of Sean Carter, she agreed on the spot.

Before leaving, Sean Carter thought for a moment, then pulled Old Miller aside and whispered, “Dad, I’m about to leave. You have to take care of yourself.”

“Mm, you take care too.”

“And one more thing.” Sean Carter tugged Bond Miller’s ear and whispered, “After I leave, you should be nicer to Aunt Joyce Harris.”

Old Miller immediately blushed. Though not at a loss for words, his expression turned a bit awkward.

Sean Carter quickly added, “Dad, Warren Clark is Aunt Joyce Harris’s brother. If you’re good to her, Master Warren Clark will be good to me too.”

Old Miller’s big hand stopped three centimeters above Sean Carter’s head. He never expected his son to be thinking along these lines.

Watching Old Martin drive the cart away with one adult and four children, Old Miller suddenly felt a warm sense of anticipation in his heart.

Maybe, he really should be nicer to her.

Chapter 12 Blacksmith Warren Clark

Old Martin didn’t travel fast, but at least it was much faster than walking, so in less than half a day, they had already arrived at the knight’s manor.

Over the past twenty years, the manor had been expanded twice and now covered a large area.

It was said that if it weren’t for being in such a remote corner, it would have been impossible to receive such a large estate as a knight.

But this had nothing to do with Sean Carter. His gaze fell on the marketplace in the southwest part of the manor.

The southwest corner of the manor was the most prosperous place for dozens of miles around. Owning a shop there was the greatest dream of many people’s lives.

The carriage stopped in front of the largest shop in the deepest part of the southwest corner.

Everyone looked at this shop, which occupied the largest area in the southwest corner, with envy.

Perhaps the business here wasn’t the best, but it was definitely the most famous and best-located shop.

Although there were many small shops in the southwest corner, no one disputed this. The reason, of course, was that this shop belonged to Master Warren Clark, the only other person besides Knight Scott Baker in the area to hold a senior professional title.

The three youths beside Sean Carter—well, in this world, sixteen or seventeen years old could actually be called young men.

The three of them seemed eager to prove their strength, standing up as straight as they could.

“Oh, my dear Joyce Harris, welcome.”