Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1146 - 559
Previously on Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups...
Jiangdong District, Jinhai Road.
Towering skyscrapers, soaring hundreds of meters tall, stab into the darkened sky.
A massive LED screen displays an international model grasping a fresh perfume bottle, her smile alluring to those passing by.
Blazing neon signs and billboards flicker and blend their vibrant lights, drenching the city in endless vibrant shades.
High over this glittering spectacle, a dark military helicopter spews heavy smoke, slicing through the lively and clamor-filled night.
It resembles a vulture with its head ripped open by a shotgun blast, nose badly crumpled, and tail rotor completely jammed.
The huge body spins out of control, shuddering wildly through the air, diving erratically toward the earth below.
Red warning lights inside the compartment pulse frantically, bathing the tight space in hellish glow.
Elite soldiers get flung about by the massive spinning force.
Several are hurled from their chairs, crashing against the walls, with nonstop cries filling the air.
At the heart of this raging chaos, just one silhouette stays perfectly steady.
Fang Cheng's feet grip the tilted floor solidly, as though anchored deeply.
He stands shirtless, his iron-hard muscles giving off intense warmth.
Golden fire, laced with pale vapor, twists around his body, refusing to fade away.
The pale white Evil Ghost Mask catches the crimson glow from the alarms, radiating an overwhelming dread.
Calmly positioned, he gazes down at the terrified troops scattered below.
Resembling a hellish Demon God who has burst through infernal doors into the mortal world.
"Monster... Monster!!"
One soldier sprawled on the floor fights to rise, unintentionally staring straight at Fang Cheng.
Overwhelmed by horror, he stumbles back, hoisting the rifle draped over his chest, finger hovering on the trigger.
Fang Cheng doesn't bother looking, reaching out with his hand spread wide.
Moments before the shot rings out, his large palm seals the muzzle, blocking the barrel completely.
Bang!
A muffled blast erupts, and the muzzle flash dies instantly.
The trapped high-pressure gases from the propellant explode right inside the barrel.
The weak receiver part fails under the strain and shatters immediately.
Innumerable small metal shards spray backward, ripping apart the soldier's hands on the weapon, blood and tissue flying everywhere.
"Ahhhhh—"
The man shrieks in torment, releasing the gun and writhing on the deck, grasping his gushing wounds.
Fang Cheng seizes the mangled barrel, squeezing it with his steel-strong fingers.
Crunch!
A spine-chilling noise echoes as the forged-steel barrel coils into a twist with ease in his grasp.
Fang Cheng flings the ruined metal away without a thought, then fans out his palm.
He checks the coating of dark residue on his skin, puffing it off lightly.
The black dust scatters, exposing his flawless skin underneath, free of any burns or marks.
Witnessing this feat, two additional soldiers slump to the floor in sheer fright, quivering uncontrollably, too scared to reach for their arms.
From the cockpit, Captain Hu barely raises his head, his features smeared with blood and filth, appearing utterly ragged.
The moment his gaze lands on the mask facing him, he stiffens like struck by lightning, a sharp pang hitting his chest.
Details on the S-Class fugitive flood his thoughts.
White Evil Ghost Mask... horrifying physical power... brutally savage killing techniques...
"White... White Owl?!"
Captain Hu’s voice shakes as he blurts the question:
"Are you the one who slaughtered more than two hundred Red Tiger Gang members, single-handedly annihilating the Noah Organization East Capital Branch... White Owl?!"
Fang Cheng angles his head just a touch, the mask's ruby eyes flashing with icy chill.
"Oh?"
"So my reputation, has grown this much already?"
This near-confirmation ramps up the terror in Captain Hu’s stare.
He grasps full well the horror behind that alias.
It's whispered to be a merciless killing engine lacking humanity, a spirit of pure retribution.
"Misunderstanding! This really is a misunderstanding!"
Captain Hu gulps down saliva, babbling in desperation:
"If it’s you, Mr. White Owl... we can find a place to sit down and negotiate, our military really appreciates your strength."
"Whatever conditions you want, money? Status? Or a pardon? I can apply to the higher-ups for you!"
"Now you want to talk? Too late."
Fang Cheng’s voice stays even, stripped of all feeling:
"Not too late! Not too late at all!"
Captain Hu, eyes welling with tears, rushes to clarify:
"We have no deep hatred, as long as you spare me..."
His words cut off sharply.
Fang Cheng's shape flickers, spanning two meters in a flash, his right hand locking onto Captain Hu’s neck like iron tongs.
"Cough cough... Let... let go..."
Captain Hu’s legs dangle helplessly as he flails at the choking arm, his complexion draining to gray.
The enemy's swiftness and might prove overwhelming.
Even as a potion-boosted special forces leader, he can't resist, feeling as weak as a fledgling.
In that instant, every bit of his earlier bravado evaporates, his gaze brimming with mortal dread.
"Don’t kill me... I’m the only one who can control this aircraft... without me... everyone will die..."
Fang Cheng remains unmoved.
He simply observes the elite officer squirm in his clutch, akin to a worthless pest.
"You... You maniac!!"
Sensing the noose on his neck tighten further, Captain Hu crumbles completely, wailing faintly:
"From hundreds of meters up... even you won’t survive! We’ll all end up as minced flesh!!"
"That’s my concern."
Fang Cheng replies tonelessly, clenching his fingers harder.
Crunch.
The sharp snap of fracturing bones blends with the thunderous rush of winds.