Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1183 - 574_2
Previously on Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups...
Fang Cheng had earlier decided against it, weighed down by his worries.
He simply couldn't stand the idea of being tied down, hated the hidden and open fights in the official ranks, and was even less willing to surrender his secrets and life to someone else's grip.
However, the circumstances have shifted completely now.
Fang Cheng pulled his eyes away from the mask and directed them to his open hand.
He remembered the conversation from a month back with Shi Chengyi at the West Mountain Cemetery.
Without question, his present power had soared to unprecedented levels, giving him much more control over his fate.
At the same time, the looming danger from outside pushed him to choose without delay.
To protect his loved ones from enemy attacks.
He had intentionally put in place certain measures, such as having Big Hammer and Monkey establish a monitoring setup in Wanghu Town and Old Factory Street.
But such safeguards, against real powerhouses, were as thin as a sheet of glass ready to shatter at a touch.
When up against the army, the Special Search Team, or foes on the level of "Ideal Land".
That monitoring system could only act as a basic alert at best.
Offering him just a tiny window for response, nowhere near enough for solid protection.
What Fang Cheng truly required was a robust "shield", a valid status supported by government approval.
This status could serve as a barrier.
Separating the identity "Fang Cheng" from the dark history of "White Owl" and the mysteries of Silver Wing Building, plus any looming future crises.
An government cover, even if fabricated, could stir confusion.
Should anyone trace leads and probe into him with doubts.
A government role under the Special Search Team's prestigious banner could make investigators pause and second-guess.
That brief pause would give him the time needed to hide his true self and seal any gaps.
Similar to how he faced "Ghost Scythe" in the deserted structure, where Fang Cheng purposefully spread word of partnering with the Special Search Team, releasing the "info" on purpose.
Through this misleading detail, he effectively shifted Ideal Land's attention to the Special Search Team, creating extra space for his maneuvers.
A faint smile tugged at Fang Cheng’s mouth, a spark of cunning shining in his gaze.
Once Ideal Land learns he really joined the Special Search Team as a formal member.
It would surely reinforce that misleading info, causing them to tread more carefully and avoid hasty moves.
And apart from safeguarding his family and himself, the recently formed "Illuminati" was still just a fragile sprout that demanded his direct protection.
This young group provided him with very little aid in return.
On the flip side, as its head, he had to keep pouring in effort and time to oversee it.
Both Fang Cheng and every member of Illuminati required a stretch of calm growth.
If he integrated into an official group, that calm would gain the ultimate backing.
Furthermore, becoming part of the Special Search Team brought advantages far beyond simple protection.
Fang Cheng's expression grew serious, the faint image of his father's face from old memories rising clearly in his thoughts.
To reveal the truth behind his father's passing, to expose the heart of "Ideal Land", he needed vast resources of information.
The Special Search Team, as Xia Country's premier body for dealing with unusual occurrences, was clearly the country's biggest hub for intel.
Its records were bound to contain every answer he hunted for.
This was an area no lone person could access.
Regarding Ma Donghe’s suggestion to apply for the "Medical Team".
This idea, carefully shaped by Ma Jianguo and Shi Chengyi, hit directly on his hesitations and released the last chain holding him back.
The Medical Team, part of the support division, stayed well away from the core of political battles.
It involved no frontline combat, no diving into unknown perils.
Yet, it made for an ideal hidden role.
A "highly capable" support staffer wouldn't draw the eye of Director Ling, who despised Martial Artists.
He could easily don this "innocent" mask, benefit from state perks, and leverage his role to uncover the truths he desired.
He might even think about using the Special Search Team's mission framework to tackle those risky yet manageable weird events, converting them into training grounds for his abilities.
Handle tasks, take it easy, build skills, collect pay, and score comprehensive benefits.
It was almost the ideal job cut just for him.
As for those mentioned regulations and limits?
Fang Cheng's mouth quirked up a bit, twisting into a icy smile.
Once your power grows strong enough to shatter the rules, you embody the rules yourself.
Ma Jianguo and Shi Chengyi only viewed him as an astonishingly gifted Martial Arts genius.
They wished for him to lead the resurgence of martial arts.
Yet they were unaware that Fang Cheng had no interest in reviving martial arts.
For him, martial arts was just a means to reach his aims.
His real ambition was to reach the top of this world, clutching every fate in his hands.
Entering the Special Search Team wasn't yielding or bowing down.
Rather, it was a more profound "performance", a superior form of "pursuit".
An supreme contest on the platform of national force and with global supernatural forces as targets.
With this thought, the final trace of doubt in Fang Cheng’s heart dissolved away.
He stretched his hand out, letting his palm glide over the two chilly masks.
At last, his fingers stopped at the red clown mask, tapping it lightly.
Clang—
A metallic clash echoed through the shadowed room, its resonance hanging in the air.
Beyond the glass, the moon hung bright, spilling silvery light.
In the distance, massive high-rises glowed with colorful neons, like colossal beasts slumbering on the night-shrouded earth.
In Fang Cheng’s eyes, under the still surface like a deep lake, a golden fire seemed to spark, poised to devour everything.
Even though the night was profound, the entire high-rise seemed silent, unusually still.
With his choice set, his thoughts relaxed, a rush of tiredness overcame him.
Fang Cheng rose, yawned while stretching, intending to wash up in the bathroom before sleeping.
But as he pivoted, something odd flickered in his side vision.
He turned slowly, his eyes returning to the table.
There, the red clown mask he'd just touched now gave off a subtle, mysterious shine.
It wasn't a reflection from the moon.
Instead, it was a strange radiance that pulsed in intensity, emanating from inside.
The mask's vivid red hue no longer looked like mere paint, but something vital and breathing.
A dense, blood-resembling fluid was gradually twisting under the surface, moving fluidly.
Rendering that over-the-top grin even more menacing.
"Hehehe..."
A faint, childish chuckle, out of nowhere, resounded from the depths of his consciousness.
The laugh carried spite and hunger, like icy tiny fingers reaching for his essence.
Fang Cheng kept his composure steady.
He didn't back away, but rather settled back into his seat, tilting forward a touch.
With a calculated, intrigued chill like studying quarry, he closely watched the mask's transformations.
Fang Cheng was perfectly aware.
That apparently light tap, actually, given his current might and finger's toughness, could easily bore through a normal mask.
But this one stayed intact, as if stirring some sleeping awareness.
Fang Cheng focused sharply, thinking for a moment.
Thus, he once more put out his index finger, gradually approaching the "oozing" mask.
His fingertip met not the chilly, rigid feel of plastic or gypsum.
But a warm, yielding, and faintly throbbing texture like living tissue.
Fang Cheng's eyes narrowed briefly, pulse quickening.
In the instant of touch, a abrupt shift happened!
The crimson fluid on the mask appeared to discover an outlet at last, abruptly "surging" from the contact spot.
Right away, like a awakened red serpent, it rapidly slithered up Fang Cheng’s finger toward his limb.