Chapter 8: Skill Effect "Iron Fist

Fang Cheng looked up.

He saw the panel emitting a light more brilliant and dazzling than ever before.

To the right of the "Boxing" skill bar, two small arrows appeared, indicating two specific paths for enhancement.

【Enhancement 1: 6 points of free attribute rewards】

【Enhancement 2: 1 point of Constitution attribute reward, skill effect "Iron Fist"】

【Note: This effect allows the bones and muscles of the hands to achieve twice the toughness of the total Constitution attribute.】

Enhancement selection.

This was a situation Fang Cheng had encountered before when upgrading his "Speed Reading" skill.

Back then, in order to improve his learning efficiency as quickly as possible, he had given up the 4 points of Spirit attribute enhancement.

He had chosen the other path instead.

1 point of Spirit attribute, and a skill effect that quadrupled his reading memory—"Rapid Eyeball Movement."

Now, a similar choice appeared once again.

Only this time, both enhancement rewards were more generous than before, and both were perfectly suited to Fang Cheng's current needs.

Choose Enhancement 1.

Adding these 6 free attribute points to Strength and Agility would allow him to instantly reach the physical fitness level of a professional boxer.

Choose Enhancement 2.

Although it only added 1 point of Constitution, the fact that his fists would become as hard as iron meant the improvement to his practical combat ability was self-evident.

More importantly, the skill effect had growth potential.

10 points of Constitution would yield the effect of 20 points; 20 points would yield the effect of 40.

Following this logic, it was hard to imagine how terrifying these hands would become in the future.

Perhaps, tearing a Gundam apart with his bare hands wouldn't just be a dream!

One offered short-term gains, while the other focused on long-term development.

After considering for a few seconds, Fang Cheng made his decision.

"Select Enhancement 2!"

As he silently recited the choice in his mind, the blood throughout his body seemed to boil, surging continuously into his hands.

Fang Cheng felt his hands tighten abruptly.

The metacarpal bones, phalanges, and the muscles attached to the joints felt as if they were being compressed from the outside in by a powerful force.

This intense pain lasted only for a split second before vanishing instantly.

The two small arrows on the panel disappeared along with it.

Fang Cheng lowered his head to stare at his hands.

In the sunlight, his fingers appeared fair and slender, with distinct knuckles.

From the surface of the skin, there seemed to be no trace of any enhancement.

But the savage power hidden within could be felt truly and clearly.

"The current me..."

Fang Cheng muttered to himself, slowly clenching his hands, his knuckles popping loudly.

...possesses fists on par with a boxing champion...

At least in terms of hardness!

However—

The next second, a wave of weakness struck him.

His stomach growled loudly, and gastric acid churned.

His body protested ungratefully, as if he hadn't eaten for several days.

Fang Cheng suddenly realized.

After activating "Potential Stimulation," he had been too busy enjoying the wonderful sensation of torturing his body.

He had actually forgotten to eat breakfast!

He glanced at the alarm clock on the table; it showed 10:59.

It was almost noon.

From 5:00 AM until now, he had been exercising for a full six hours.

For an ordinary person, this was a recipe for death.

"Fortunately, my current Constitution is not something an ordinary person can compare to!"

Looking at the Constitution attribute on the panel, which had increased to 10 points.

Fang Cheng remained calm and composed as he walked into the bathroom to grab a towel and wipe off his sweat.

9 points was roughly the average level for a healthy adult male.

10 points was likely the level of an amateur fitness enthusiast who exercised regularly.

These were estimates Fang Cheng had calculated based on his own situation compared to others.

As for anything above 10 points, it clearly surpassed most ordinary people, reaching the physical fitness of a general professional athlete—worthy of being called an elite.

If he could continue to successfully unlock and upgrade all of the "Prisoner's Six Arts," his various attributes would at least approach 20 points.

By then, his physical stamina and recovery speed would inevitably be incomparable to what they were now.

Perhaps he could stand on equal footing with the world's top athletes and compete on the same stage.

For example, participating in an international marathon to compete for the championship prize.

For example, doing 1,000 consecutive push-ups without breaking a sweat or turning red in the face...

Fang Cheng wiped the sweat from his forehead with the towel, his eyes filled with the joy of growth and strength, as well as a vision for the future.

"It's still too early to think about such things."

After wiping his sweat, he smiled self-deprecatingly and opened the old, yellowing refrigerator in his home.

He saw that it was empty, save for two cabbages and half a box of yogurt; there was nothing else.

The food he had stocked for the week had long since been eaten by his own greatly increased appetite.

Fang Cheng felt slightly disappointed, picked up the half-box of yogurt, and licked it slowly.

Afterward, he put on his jacket and packed his clothes and toiletries into his messenger bag.

He decided to take the afternoon off, go to the public bathhouse downstairs for a hot shower, and relax his body.

Then he would go to the supermarket to buy supplies, come back to cook, and practice his culinary skills.

He especially needed to eat a few more of the honey-glazed braised chicken legs he had just learned to make.

Exercise, rest, and nutritional supplementation had always been the three pillars of fitness.

As for the afternoon, he would go to the hospital to visit his grandfather and deliver food to his mother.

His day was fully planned out.

………………………………

Xiguan District, Ren'an Hospital.

Located near the country park at the foot of West Mountain, the environment was quiet and far from the bustling city.

Although it was in a remote location, it was one of the few public Grade-A tertiary hospitals in Dongdu.

Fang Cheng changed into a white hoodie, carried his messenger bag, and held an insulated lunch box as he walked into the crowded first-floor lobby.

He didn't look around, walking familiarly toward the elevator bank for the inpatient department.

While waiting for the elevator, the sounds of children crying and adults scolding could be heard from time to time.

There were even family members of patients arguing with staff, making a scene.

Doctor-patient issues were the same even in this world; there was no difference.

The noise of the crowd, intertwined with the pungent smell of disinfectant, created the unique, anxious atmosphere of a hospital.

Watching the numbers on the floor display move as slowly as a turtle.

Fang Cheng consciously entered focus mode, silently reciting the contents of his law textbook.

"Ding."

The elevator finally descended to the first floor, and the doors opened slowly.

He looked up, waited for the people inside to come out, and then stepped into the elevator.

Just as he pressed the close button, a shout came from outside: "Wait!"

Immediately following, the sound of messy footsteps approached.

A tattooed hand blocked the elevator door that was about to close.

"Ugh, seriously..."

A rough voice rang out, and a burly man wearing a tight-fitting compression shirt in the middle of winter, his chest muscles bulging, squeezed in.

He glanced at Fang Cheng, "slapped" the floor button hard, and complained

"Young people these days have none of the mutual aid spirit we had in our day; they don't even help press the button when they see someone coming."

The two other young men who followed him in were also dressed in flashy, gaudy clothes, their mouths cursing and swearing.

One of them, a short guy with dyed yellow hair, even jumped up and pointed at Fang Cheng's nose, shouting

"Hey pretty boy, are you blind or what?"

"Sorry."

Fang Cheng bowed slightly to apologize.

He had been too focused on reciting his book and hadn't noticed them walking over.

It was just a small incident.

A proper concession was like a spring breeze, capable of smoothing over unnecessary disputes.

However...

Not only did these three guys take up most of the elevator space with their slouching, but they were also smoking and shouting, which was genuinely annoying.

Fang Cheng could only stand in the corner, silently listening to their boring conversation.

"Damn it, we've been chasing debt for days and only got two thousand yuan. The boss isn't going to fire us, is he?"

"What else can we do? They're all poor devils; you can't squeeze any oil out of them. Doing this job isn't even as fun as fighting on the street."

"Yingjun, you have to be ruthless in life. If you aren't ruthless, people will look down on you. It's your turn to show what you've got later."

"Brother, I know, I'm trying to learn..."

The elevator stopped floor by floor, opening and closing its doors.

People outside who were waiting to ride the elevator didn't dare to enter when they saw the three gatekeeper-like figures.

Fortunately, when they reached the 7th floor, the three suspected gang members finally walked out.

The elevator returned to peace and continued upward.

Ding.

The display number changed to "8," and Fang Cheng stepped out of the elevator.

He looked up at the "Oncology Department 2" sign, then looked toward the nurse's station.

There were a few nurses in white uniforms and round caps chatting there.

Fang Cheng had been here many times and was quite familiar with them, so he went over to ask.

A young nurse with a flushed face pointed toward the 812 ward at the end of the left corridor.

Fang Cheng smiled and thanked her, then immediately picked up the insulated lunch box and followed the directions to the location.

Pushing the door open, the smell of disinfectant wafted into his nose.

This was a double-occupancy room that had just been vacated.

Blue bedsheets, white floor tiles—it was almost spotless.

The winter sun shone in from the open curtains, reflecting a quiet, pale tone.

In front of the window, a slender, middle-aged woman was bending over, mopping the floor.

She wore simple clothes without any flashy adornments, yet she possessed a unique, gentle temperament.

Fang Cheng put down the lunch box and walked straight over, taking the mop from her.

"Mom, you haven't eaten yet, right? Let me mop for you."

The middle-aged woman seemed lost in thought and was startled, looking up immediately.

Her tightly furrowed brows then relaxed, revealing a pleasant surprise.

"Chengcheng, why are you here?"