West Sicono Town, West Street.
Ginro walked along while tearing into several skewers of sea beast meat.
The replenishment of food energy slowly washed away the fatigue from the day, and after resting for a while, even the mental exhaustion eased, his condition gradually returning to peak.
"Those two thugs should've crawled back up by now… probably running to complain to Boar."
Ginro was almost there.
Not far ahead stood Warehouse No. 3 on West Street, the base of operations for the dockworkers' gang known as the Iron Club Gang.
The wisdom of his ancestors told him that when trouble came, one had to understand alliances and counterbalances.
An enemy's enemy could become a friend.
The Iron Club Gang was one of the two major dockworker factions in West Sicono Town, standing on equal footing with the Boar Gang. Though it had only risen to prominence in the last two years, its momentum was fierce, tearing large chunks of territory straight out of the Boar Gang's grasp—yet Boar had never managed to do anything about it.
More importantly, the Iron Club Gang had a better reputation. When dockworkers mentioned it, there was often a strange look on their faces, but most of the time it was praise. Its existence alone had made the Boar Gang far less overbearing than before.
Ginro had no intention of letting the money he earned with sweat and muscle be stolen by the Boar Gang. But two fists couldn't fight four hands—and more importantly, he didn't know Boar's true strength. He had no idea whether he could actually win.
So he came to check out the Iron Club Gang.
If he could gain an ally, all the better.
"Before going in…"
[Spending 100,000 Beli. Extending infrastructure period by one year!]
His consciousness suddenly plunged.
The world spun, stars shifting—and the outline of Warehouse No. 3 vanished. In its place appeared a familiar courtyard.
The Kengan World.
Peach blossoms drifted down from above.
Standing before him was his master, Winston Wen, his expression solemn. Behind him stood seven senior brothers and sisters, their faces filled with reluctance.
This was… a farewell?
Picking up where things left off?
Ginro froze briefly, then said,
"Master, I feel that one year is far too short. I'd like to stay and learn boxing from you for a few more years. Is that possible?"
Winston Wen paused, then slowly shook his head—before a faint smile appeared.
"Very well. Although my old friend only entrusted me with your care for one year… considering how diligently you've trained and your potential, I'll keep you for one more year."
The senior brothers and sisters immediately brightened.
"That's great, Junior Brother!"
"Exactly! Only one year of training—what's the rush to leave?"
"Our master's household can afford to feed you!"
Winston Wen turned, his voice stern.
"Since Ginro isn't leaving, why are you all still standing around? Have you finished today's training? Go!"
"…Yes, Master!"
The group withdrew happily.
Winston Wen then looked back at Ginro.
"Your Five Element Fists foundation is already solid. Since you'll be staying another year, it's time I teach you the true essence of Xeno Fist—the Twelve Forms of Xeno Fist."
Ginro's face lit up with joy.
At first, he had believed that Xeno Fist was named after the twelve animal-based techniques that mimicked beasts.
Only after training with Winston Wen did he learn the truth.
Xeno Fist was also known as Intent Fist—a martial art that fully channels one's will and intent.
It emphasized the Six Harmonies of Mind and Body:
Mind with intent, intent with breath, breath with strength;
shoulders with hips, elbows with knees, hands with feet.
The Three-Body Stance, Five Element Fists, and Twelve Forms together formed a complete Xeno Fist system—none could be missing.
But among them, the Twelve Forms were the most famous—and unlike the others, they were purely combat-oriented techniques.
Exactly what Ginro needed.
Winston Wen stepped to the center of the courtyard and stood casually, relaxed on the outside but tense within.
"We'll start with the Dragon Form. The dragon trains rising and sinking, extension and contraction. Watch carefully."
His body suddenly changed.
It seemed to lengthen, his spine rippling like waves. His arms crossed and shifted, and for a moment it was as if the silhouette of a dragon appeared—rising and falling, twisting and folding. It looked soft and boneless, yet thunderous power lay hidden within.
As he demonstrated, he explained:
"To train the Dragon Form, you must first understand what a dragon is.
It can be large or small, rise or hide.
When large, it summons clouds and mist.
When small, it conceals itself.
When rising, it soars through the heavens.
When hiding, it lies dormant beneath the waves."
The phrasing was dense and poetic, but Ginro understood nearly eighty percent of its meaning immediately.
He stepped forward to imitate it.
The movements were simple, yet when he performed them, he looked stiff—like a wooden puppet.
"What? Do you want me to teach you from the beginning again?"
A wooden stick appeared in Winston Wen's hand.
"No—no, no!" Ginro said quickly.
"I understand! Xeno Fist values intent over form. Once you grasp the intent, the form can be forgotten!"
It was back.
The feeling of training was back.
He let go of Winston Wen's demonstration. His movements deviated noticeably—but within that deviation emerged a trace of true dragon intent. His spine coiled and stretched like a dragon's neck, his arms flickering in and out like dragon claws.
Winston Wen nodded in satisfaction.
"Not bad."
From then on, Ginro returned to the same training rhythm as before.
Standing practice in the morning.
Five Element Fists after breakfast.
In the afternoon, half an hour of Eight Absolute Hands, followed by repeated practice of the Dragon Form.
After one month, Winston Wen taught him the second form—the Tiger Form.
"People fear the tiger's ferocity when it pounces, yet few notice its stealth while stalking.
A tiger crouched in the wild does not rely on strength alone—its intent is just as crucial.
Before the strike, it is calm as a mountain.
When it strikes, it is thunder without mercy!"
As the words ended, Winston Wen moved.
No warning. No buildup.
He lunged like an arrow released from a bow, wind howling in his wake. This was no simple leap—it carried his entire body weight and speed, like a tiger descending from a mountain.
Immediately after, his right arm snapped out like a steel whip.
Crack!
The air exploded.
Ginro had no doubt—this blow could shatter a massive boulder.
Martial artists of the Kengan World were, after all, several times more exaggerated than those of the modern world.
"Your turn," Winston Wen said, withdrawing his stance.
Ginro took a deep breath and began to practice.
Compared to the Dragon Form's mobility, the Tiger Form was far more exhausting—but strangely, Ginro found it easier to grasp.
One month later, it was the Monkey Form.
Maintaining a rhythm of one form per month, Ginro spent a full year mastering all Twelve Forms of Xeno Fist.
And once again, the infrastructure period ended.
"Alright," Winston Wen said one day as Ginro trained.
"The year is up. From here on, walk your own path. Do not disgrace the name of Xeno Fist."
[Infrastructure Period (Two-Year Term) Ended]
[You may spend 500,000 Beli to extend the infrastructure period by one year.]
[Funds: 4,700 Beli]
Five hundred thousand?
That jumped fast!
His consciousness receded like a tide.
Warehouse No. 3 reappeared before his eyes.
Perhaps due to the system's effects, this massive distortion of time didn't leave Ginro disoriented. In nearly an instant, he was pulled out of a full year of training in the Kengan World.
His hands moved slowly.
A dragon's shape emerged.
A tiger's aura surged from his body.
The Twelve Forms truly lived up to being the essence of Xeno Fist—pure combat techniques. At this moment, Ginro felt like he could defeat ten versions of his former self.
He almost didn't feel like going into the Iron Club Gang anymore.
A small-town gang like the Boar Gang—how strong could they really be?
True power in this world lived out at sea.
Still…
Since he was already here.
Ginro walked toward Warehouse No. 3 and was quickly spotted by two Iron Club Gang members.
"Who goes there?"
"This is Iron Club Gang territory!"
Ginro said calmly,
"My name's Ian. I've been working the docks for a short while. I've heard of the Iron Club Gang and came to meet your boss."
"Ian?"
"That name sounds familiar…"
"Oh! You're that capable newcomer from the docks!"
"Wait here. I'll report to the boss!"
One man went inside and quickly returned.
"The boss says you can come in."
Ginro nodded and followed him inside.
Among scattered crates and cargo, he immediately saw a massive figure reclining on a sofa.
A woman nearly two meters tall, easily over two hundred pounds, stood out instantly. A spiked iron club rested beside her as she looked him up and down.
…Why does she look familiar?
Before Ginro could think further, the woman burst out laughing.
"Ian! I've heard your name! Hahaha!
I'm the boss of the Iron Club Gang—Iron Club Alvida!
I've gathered a bunch of men who are utterly captivated by my beauty. Honestly, it's such a burden!"
She grinned broadly.
"Looks like you've heard of my beauty too.
You're here to join the Iron Club Gang, aren't you?"
(Let me know what you think of this novel in the comments!)
Every 10 powerstones I'll post 1 extra chapter!