Becoming God Of A Dystopian World

The surface where Zhao Luo had punched wasn't even scratched even a little.

Even though Zhao Luo was impressed by the unyielding nature of the metal but then he sulked as he felt disappointed with his strength.

Sigh~

"Not even a scratch...", Zhao Luo gazed at his apparitions while mumbling out his dissatisfaction.

"Go."

He commanded them with a single word which was enough for them to understand their task.

The nine apparitions moved towards the mountain and as they got close to it. They started punching the shit out of it.

"NO HOLDING BACK GUYS."

Zhao Luo shouted while looking at his apparitions throwing their fists rapidly at the mountain.

The dark space erupted with a single repetitive sound of banging that had even enveloped the farthest parts of the dark space.

Zhao Luo also pulled back both of his elbows towards the sides of his stomach.

"Huff~"

Zhao Luo calmly breathed in with closed eyes.

In the same second, he had already punched the mountain with his right fist.

Bang!

Pulling his right fist back, before the sound of the earlier collision could die down.

Bang!

His left fist had already landed on the mountain.

The bullet fist wasn't a technique that was limited to a single hand, thus Zhao Luo kept on throwing punches at the mountain left and right without stopping.

The same went for his apparitions.

This was his first try, while the goal was completing 1000 tries.

According to the author of the Bullet Fist, each try would end when the practitioner's fist would reach the crumpling point, that is, complete exhaustion.

"AHHHHH."

Zhao Luo let out a mighty roar as his arms had disappeared, his fists remained unseen, and only the sound of his fists crashing on the mountain's surface remained.

Bang! After, Bang! After, Bang!

Without stopping for even a tenth of a second, Zhao Luo with his apparitions kept on punching the mountain.

A minute passed.

Zhao Luo alone had thrown around 1450 punches or so.

That was around 24 punches per second.

This speed was four times faster than what a professional boxer from his time could bring out. Not to mention the strength behind each of those punches.

Just like that, 10 minutes passed.

Bang!

Bang!

Zhao Luo's body could easily be seen through his purple robe as the sweat had drenched it.

But the more Zhao Luo sweated, the more smoke could be seen rising from his body as the speed of punches never slowed down.

Till now he had thrown around 15000 punches.

"Agh."

While silently moaning in pain, he still continued throwing his fist at the mountain without letting his speed be affected by the pain.

The stinging pain had climbed up towards his elbows.

Zhao Luo felt like being pricked by a sharp needle every time his punch would come in contact with the insanely hard surface of the mountain.

Each punch would leave a red mark on the dark grey surface of the mountain.

'Cr~'

'Crack~

After two more minutes of explosively punching the mountain, Zhao Luo could feel his fist cracking.

"Gayyyaaah."

While screaming, Zhao Luo kept on punching with his cracked fists for another minute.

"Ahhh."

"Huff"

"Ahh"

Zhao Luo while trying to catch his breath had a painful expression on his face.

Even though he had gotten beaten many times by his devilish apparitions but self-harm like his, was a new feeling for him.

'I don't enjoy it, not even a bit.'

Zhao Luo cried out while his eyes hovered over his bloodied fists.

'Crea~~K'

Zhao Luo opened his fist and his hand looked like someone had stabbed a knife in his palm countless times.

"Is this really my hand?"

Zhao Luo couldn't believe how badly the phalanges in his fingers were tangled inwards as though someone had compressed his fingers.

Shaking off the painful feeling, he looked at his apparitions who were already getting up.

"Are they already going for round two?"

Zhao Luo realized that there was a slight change in the fists of his apparitions.

"They look bigger than before."

Zhao Luo found the area of the fist to be bigger than before.

"Or is it my imagination?"

While wondering about it, he sat down, and while being drowned by the explosive noises of his apparitions punching the mountain, he started to rehabilitate, which was a mysterious ability that he would gain in the dark space.

In a few minutes, his hands were looking perfect again.

Without wasting any more time, Zhao Luo had joined his apparitions, to punch the mountain.

The cycle of punching the shit of the tungsten mountain continued for hours.

Each turn, Zhao Luo's speed would increase slightly.

On the 60th turn, Zhao Luo had only punched the mountain for 8 minutes straight and that was enough for him to reach the crumbling point.

Each minute, he was able to put out more than 2000 punches, which was a big leap over the number of punches he could throw in a minute when he had started this training.

Coincidentally as he grew faster, his explosive power was also increasing.

As for his apparitions, they were also improving while being in the same turn as Zhao Luo.

"Forty more to go."

Zhao Luo who was resting said with excited eyes.

'I have improved but this can't be only what Explosive Fist Plane offers.'

Zhao Luo murmured about the increase in his fist strength and his arm speed.

Even though it was going up by a good margin, it still couldn't be compared to what the author of the book 'Bullet Fist' was talking about.

"I can't even leave a single dent in the bloody wall."

Zhao Luo cursed as he got up to hit the mountain for the 61st time.

The only change that had occurred on the surface of the mountain was because of Zhao Luo's blood that would be left there while Zhao Luo was punching it.

Walking up and standing 3 feet away from the mountain, Zhao Luo and his apparitions continued their torturous training to achieve the explosive fist plane.

"Let's get it, guys."

Zhao Luo shouted at his apparitions before he started throwing punches at the mountain.