They seed to follow the "Elite Association" route, with no strict hierarchical relationships within.
The entire organization, except for the mysterious leader and a few assisting deputies, basically had no dedicated personnel responsible for external operations.
Tasks were executed by mbers individually, each wielding their authority to complete their respective responsibilities.
Most of the so-called core mbers were leaders or senior figures of other forces.
It was precisely these individuals, each occupying a position of power, that pieced together the intricate and vast influence of the Ideal Land.
As major players, they each had their own businesses and territories and would never easily risk their lives.
Like Ghost Scythe, a renowned king of assassins, part of the leadership of a top international assassin organization.
If it weren’t for the Ideal Land issuing a mission, he would probably be sitting in the CEO’s office of so skyscraper, sipping red wine and dispatching subordinates to carry out tasks.
Where would he find the ti to personally step out and engage in a fight to the death?
This loose structure destined their influence to look vast.
Against ordinary power users, casually deploying an external force could easily present an overwhelming posture and effortlessly resolve issues.
But if they wanted to deal with soone like Fang Cheng, who could single-handedly slay S-Class power users, relying solely on external forces would be nothing more than sending in sacrifices.
Unless the mysterious leader personally took action, or multiple S-Class core mbers were mobilized at once for a siege.
But in the current situation where the Special Search Team was watching intently and the situation was unclear, would those shrewd superiors really be willing to take the risk of exposing their entire plan by making such a choice?
Fang Cheng’s eyes slightly narrowed, sharp as a knife.
No matter how the situation changes, as long as I remain low-key and dormant, silently training, and accumulating strength.
With the panel’s support, my growth speed would be unimaginable to those enemies.
By the ti they finally make up their minds to take action, they might be shocked to discover.
The young man who once needed tricks to barely win had already grown into a terrifying existence they couldn’t shake.
Moreover, even now, Fang Cheng doesn’t fear the so-called S-Class power users, or even Super S-Class power users.
On the contrary, when thinking of those lofty powerhouses, an indescribable desire surged in his heart.
It was an instinctual excitent for battle.
After all, a life-and-death battle can enhance skill experience equivalent to half a month of tedious practice!
To upgrade quickly, break through bottlenecks, real combat is the only shortcut.
Fang Cheng’s eyes slightly flickered, his gaze shifting from the scenery outside the window back to the front.
A detailed combat settlent log slowly appeared in the air.
[Sanda experience 10]
[Sanda Lv3 (157/1000)]
[Muay Thai experience 30]
[Muay Thai Lv2 (380/500)]
[Jujutsu Experience 30]
[Jujutsu Lv2 (419/500)]
[Boxing experience 60]
[Boxing Lv3 (452/1000)]
[Qigong experience 60]
[Qi Gong Lv2 (467/500)]
The earth-shattering battle with Ghost Scythe that night nearly turned the entire unfinished building into ruins.
The scale of the commotion and the high risk brought in extrely rich experience rewards.
Especially the skills "Jujitsu" and "Qi Gong," after this battle, were very close to upgrading.
Plus, there’s the focus on breaking through the soon-to-reach Level 4 "Pull-ups."
"Three skills simultaneously approaching the critical point..."
Fang Cheng looked at the panel’s data, his eyes shining brightly in the darkness, like two flas burning.
"It won’t be long before I beco your nightmare."
He murmured to himself, his tone calm yet tinged with a chilling coldness.
At this mont.
"Sizzle—"
A sudden sound ca from the direction of the kitchen.
It was the sound of water completely overflowing from the pot, pouring onto the scorching gas stove.
Imdiately, a rich scent of at, like a hook, drilled into his nostrils.
"Gurgle."
Fang Cheng’s previously cool expression instantly broke, and his stomach let out a thunderous protest.
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