Agarwood Palace Martial Arts Training Ground.
Zhang Rongfang lifted a heavy iron lock with one hand. This is what he usually used to temper his arm strength.
One weighed one thousand pounds, two were two thousand pounds.
Yet at this moment, he felt it was slightly lighter in his hand than usual.
Though not by much, the feeling was unmistakably there.
He gently tossed the iron lock into the air, watching it tumble, spin, rise, and then fall.
Puff.
He caught it accurately with one hand again and gently placed it on the ground.
"Next is speed."
He looked toward the end of the training ground where a heavy metal mannequin quietly reflected the early morning's pale golden sunlight.
Swoosh.
Zhang Rongfang's feet moved, and he shot out like an arrow released from a bowstring.
A strange feeling quickly surged in his heart.
His Body Technique's straight-line speed was a bit faster than yesterday!
