Last night, after hearing from Shen Wei that Fang Cheng single-handedly wiped out the Bloodthorn Mercenary Corps, Ah Le appeared to believe it on the surface, but deep down, it felt like listening to a myth, with a sense of disbelief.
But now, looking at the scene unfolding before him, any shred of doubt completely vanished, replaced by deep shock and admiration.
Indeed, there is no strength without reason in this world.
Only through such day after day, almost self-torturing discipline, can one forge such an inhuman physique.
This is what a true strongman is!
"Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred!"
A full hundred reps!
After completing the last set, Fang Cheng engaged his core with force, drawing a perfect arc in the air, flipping light as a feather, and landing gracefully.
His feet touched down silently, as gracefully as a feline.
"Hoo—"
Fang Cheng exhaled a long breath, the airflow condensing into a straight white line in the air, lingering for a long time.
