Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 2 Experience Panel
Previously on Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups...
Through the bus window, the nighttime cityscape flowed like streams of light.
Fang Cheng reclined against the chilly seatback.
His eyes reflected an odd glow.
Directly before him, a light blue interface gradually expanded.
However, the individual beside him on the seat detected no oddity.
[Character Panel]
[Name: Fang Cheng]
[Age: 23]
[Strength: 7]
[Agility: 9]
[Constitution: 8]
[Spirit: 18]
[Attribute Points: 0]
.........
[Talent Panel]
[Beauty (Green Excellent)]
.........
[Skill Panel]
[Speed Reading lv1 (19/250)]
[Concentration lv1 (53/250)]
[Cooking Skill lv0 (27/100)]
[Cleaning lv0 (68/100)]
[Boxing lv0 (54/100)]
.........
Fang Cheng had transmigrated.
To be precise, he reincarnated and gained awareness of his previous life's memories just two months back.
This game-like interface emerged naturally when recollections from his former existence returned.
Resembling a holographic display from sci-fi tales, it manifested as a translucent overlay seen solely by its owner.
Fang Cheng dubbed it the "Life Game Experience Panel".
Through experimentation and repeated trials over time, he gained a solid grasp of how it operated.
Whenever he fully focused on an activity, it might activate a new skill entry in the system.
The probability of activation hinged on his foundational proficiency in that activity—the higher the expertise, the better the odds.
Subsequent persistent practice of such skills allowed accumulation of experience for leveling up.
Every skill level increase delivered unique bonus effects.
Like boosts to pertinent stats, or enhancements to the skill's capabilities...
To date, the most significant boon from this cheat system was the rekindling of his zeal for knowledge pursuit.
His dedication now surpassed even his student years.
Via more than a month's intense self-prep for grad school tests, Fang Cheng unlocked "Speed Reading" and "Concentration" successively.
Amid daily routines, he also activated the "Cooking Skill".
Upon switching to part-time work, he intentionally chose a position at a boxing gym.
This was partly to gain free self-protection techniques for security, and partly to test his hypotheses.
He pondered whether skills beyond scholarly and household ones could be acquired.
Sure enough, his hypothesis held true.
"Twenty experience points from one real fight."
"Way faster than solo drills..."
Fang Cheng's gaze shifted subtly as he dismissed the interface.
His attention then settled on the abrasions and blood on his right hand's knuckles.
This resulted from striking a drunken man's head.
Impact transfers force; delivering blows to others inevitably causes self-harm too.
That's the reason fighters don gloves in sessions—to minimize potential injuries.
Fang Cheng massaged his aching wrist.
"This physique remains too fragile..."
Leveling "Speed Reading" and "Concentration" together yielded 5 stat points.
Regrettably, given their essence, allocation was limited to the Spirit stat.
Picture a mind brimming with intellect like a scholar.
Expecting lit and scholarly pursuits to forge a brawny, tough frame defies logic.
Otherwise, prioritizing his Constitution would be feasible.
Fang Cheng drew in a steadying breath, soothing his racing pulse.
As a shut-in across two lives, this marked his debut in a genuine brawl and victorious clash.
Such thrill was unavoidable, instilling a fresh surge of assurance within him.
"Ding Dong."
"Arriving at Old Factory Street, kindly gather your items and exit via the rear door, mind your step when disembarking..."
The announcement on the bus rang out.
Fang Cheng shouldered his bag and descended from the vehicle.
He glanced upward at the scattered lamps illuminating the area, amid piles of refuse.
Crossing over, he ventured into a tighter, more shadowy lane.
Structures lining both sides stood in ruins, tangled wires overhead crammed closely.
Ad-hoc shacks and posters hawking fake wares and illicit items dotted the scene.
Known as Old Factory Street, the nearby edifices mostly dated to the early years after the war.
Decades of tranquility spurred booming growth and dynamic advancement nationwide.
A huge wave of folks pouring into East Capital, the core of politics and commerce, strained housing supplies.
Thus, this aged Jiangbei zone became a prime spot for laborers and the budget-conscious, thanks to outdated setups and cheap leases.
Fang Cheng halted before a brick pipe-structured edifice.
He tilted his head up.
In the ground-level hallway, bikes and e-bikes from evening commutes crammed the space, nearly obstructing passage.
The nine-level structure's windows showed patches of glow and shadow, interspersed with kids' wails and clanging cookware from homemakers.
Fang Cheng ascended the dimly lit stairs, some bulbs absent, one step at a time.
Upon attaining the uppermost level, he spotted several metal tubs lined in the hallway.
Inside them, embers and charred paper remnants puffed dark wisps.
Residences here mostly featured sturdy metal entrance barriers.
Traditional sliding accordion types, reinforced with vertical bars from top to base.
During summer, if occupants were inside, they often swung wide the main door yet secured the grating for breeze.
Winter saw scant such practice.
At dusk, the sealed passages dimmed and carried a somber vibe.
Fang Cheng surveyed the area puzzled, fished keys from his pocket, and headed to his unit.
All at once, the neighboring abode—the sole lit one—produced the scrape of grating rails parting.
A stout middle-aged lady thrust her head through, beckoned, and hailed:
"Ah Cheng, hold on a sec."
She appeared to have lingered in anticipation, then yelled inward:
"Xiu Mei, fetch the ready paper money and garments from the table right away!"
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