“What is the true meaning of practicing martial arts?”

James Thompson looked at the disciples present and said in a deep voice, “Some say it’s for strengthening the body, some say it’s for upholding justice and slaying demons.

But in my view, that’s all nonsense!

Upholding justice and slaying demons is not the meaning of practicing martial arts—it’s the meaning of being a person.

Martial arts have only two cores: cultivation and killing!

To return from the acquired to the innate, to surpass the limits of the human body, to reach the pinnacle of martial arts—that is cultivation.

To fight and kill, to carve out a path for survival in this chaotic world—that is the true meaning of martial arts!

Previously, I taught you Iron Elephant Technique as the foundation of martial cultivation.

But now, the Vajra Fist is the beginning of martial killing.

Actual combat and practicing forms are two different things. Your opponents are not wooden dummies—they won’t just stand there and let you hit them.

So, truly integrating martial arts into combat and killing will be the focus of your future lessons.

In martial combat, it’s better to advance with a single thought than to hesitate with a single thought.

When you strike, do not hesitate—your sole aim should be to completely kill your opponent.”

James Thompson tore open his own collar, revealing a hideous scar above his chest, as if it had been pierced by a sharp weapon.

“Back when I first entered the martial world as an escort, one night a thief tried to steal something and I caught him.

I could have killed him, but I had never killed anyone before, and just that moment of hesitation almost got my heart pierced by his dagger.

In martial combat, it’s either you die or I die.

‘Holding back’ is something only grandmasters play with. What you need to learn is life and death!”

The more Adam Harper listened, the more sense it made to him.

James Thompson might not be a top expert.

But he had been the head of a martial arts school for over a decade, and when it came to teaching disciples, he was the most skilled.

Especially for disciples just starting on the path of martial arts, what James Thompson taught was all hard-earned experience paid for in blood.

All morning, James Thompson taught them practical matters for real combat: the vital organs of the human body, changes in offensive and defensive stances, and so on.

After class, Adam Harper went home to change his clothes.

He took out his father’s scholar’s robe and put it on, tied a headscarf, and carried an old folding fan, dressing up like a down-and-out scholar.

Blackstone County had four districts, with East and West City being the most prosperous, and South and North City more rundown.

Adam Harper lived in North City, while George Mason’s home was in South City.

Blackstone County was not small—in fact, it was one of the most prominent counties in Shannan Circuit, thanks to its advantageous location.

Shannan Circuit was named so because it lay south of the Tiancang Mountains, flanked by mountains on two sides and facing water on the third.

There was only one land route, which led to Jingzhou Prefecture, and Blackstone County was the first major county at the border of Jingzhou Prefecture.

So, to take Shannan Circuit, you must first take Jingzhou Prefecture.

To take Jingzhou Prefecture, you must first take Blackstone County.

Blackstone County’s prime location made it a key transportation hub, with many merchant caravans passing through. The county seat was huge, with a permanent population exceeding two hundred thousand.

South and North City were both old districts, densely populated, with winding alleys like a maze.

Adam Harper searched for about an hour before finally finding George Mason’s home.

But he didn’t approach; instead, he wandered around nearby, keeping watch.

However, as night fell, Adam Harper still hadn’t seen any sign of George Mason.

“Could it be he’s not home?”

Adam Harper frowned slightly.

Although there was no curfew in Blackstone County, times were tough, and after dark, there were hardly any people on the streets.

If Adam Harper kept wandering the streets, he’d start to stand out.

Just then, his stomach rumbled with hunger, so Adam Harper found a stall selling tofu pudding and sesame flatbread and sat down.

“Boss, is your tofu pudding sweet or savory?”

“Spicy.”

Adam Harper fell silent, as did both the sweet and savory factions.

“All right, give me a bowl of tofu pudding and three flatbreads.”

The snow-white tofu pudding was topped with gravy and chili oil—it actually tasted pretty good.

Adam Harper quickly finished the tofu pudding and flatbreads, but noticed the boss had no intention of packing up.

With his hands tucked into his sleeves, he squatted in front of the stall, staring blankly at the empty street.

“Boss, it’s already dark—aren’t you closing up?”

The boss forced a smile. “Two years ago, my eldest son was with a merchant caravan and got his head chopped off by bandits on the road.

Last year, my wife took our youngest son back to her mother’s, but they were eaten by demons on the way.

The house is too empty—it makes me feel suffocated. It’s more comfortable staying outside.

Take your time eating, sir, there’s no rush.”

Adam Harper was silent for a moment, then put down a few dozen coins on the table and turned to leave.

Before, Adam Harper never had a direct sense of how bad things were these days.

He knew it was chaotic, but hadn’t seen just how bad with his own eyes.

Now he more or less understood.

No guarantee of tomorrow, human life as cheap as grass.

Since he couldn’t wait for George Mason, Adam Harper decided to look for George Mason himself.

It was already dark outside, the alleys deserted, and even households with their lights on were few and far between.

With prices soaring these days, even the poor in South City couldn’t afford to light oil lamps.

Adam Harper walked lightly through the alleys, silently climbed over the wall—inside was George Mason’s home.

While others couldn’t afford to light lamps, George Mason’s house was brightly lit.