Lu Sheng closed his bedroom door and let out a small breath of relief.
Only when he was in this small room that belonged solely to him could he feel even a little relaxed.
The room wasn't large. In the corner stood a single bed and a desk.
In the middle lay a black yoga mat, two meters by one and a half, surrounded by dumbbells, grip trainers, and sandbags.
This space served as both Lu Sheng's Martial Arts training area and his resting place.
Lu Sheng set down his backpack, stripped off his jacket and pants, then sat on the yoga mat.
The reason he had rushed straight home after school was mainly to get in some extra training—to quickly restore the Vitality Index he had lost over the past few days due to those nightmares.
At his age, with his body rapidly developing in every aspect, this should have been the prime phase for skyrocketing Vitality.
Unless it was due to serious injury or illness, a drop in Vitality Index was almost unheard of.
So, what had happened to Lu Sheng was no small matter. It had to be addressed and corrected immediately.
Taking a moment to calm himself, Lu Sheng took a deep breath and silently recited, "Thirteenth Set of Brast Gymnastics, activate!"
With that, his body began to move through a series of motions.
The movements resembled yoga, but they were distinct—calling them calisthenics might be more fitting.
"...The Twenty-Four Forms of the Body Tempering Art, promoted by the World Martial Alliance, are said to have been created by grandmasters combining ancient yoga, traditional martial arts, and old grappling techniques. They're ideal for martial arts beginners to build their foundation.
The version I'm practicing now is already the thirteenth revised edition—its effectiveness far surpasses that of the first..."
Ever since the world changed more than three hundred years ago—when cracks appeared in the sky and earth, and terrifying, grotesque monsters poured out—the course of civilization had been forever altered.
Most modern firearms had lost their effectiveness against the beasts, prompting humanity to seek new ways to protect themselves.
Perhaps it was the pressure of near extinction that unlocked some latent genetic potential within humans. Individual strength could suddenly be pushed to levels previously thought impossible.
And so, the Martial Way blossomed into brilliance.
Martial Arts advanced rapidly, evolving day by day.
To this day, martial training had become a sweeping societal trend—everyone practiced, everyone cultivated.
But even so, humanity remained at an overwhelming disadvantage in the war for survival against the monsters. Cities fell daily. The human population was in continuous decline.
That was something their homeroom teacher often reminded them of.
"You were born in an age of chaos. You must carry the burden of this era.
You train in the Martial Way not for yourselves, but for humanity's resurgence. Each of you is a spark of Martial civilization…"
...
"Whew—huff—"
Lu Sheng stopped his movements and sat down on the yoga mat, slowly adjusting his breathing.
He had just completed the twenty-four forms of the Body Tempering Art three times in one go. A light sheen of sweat covered his skin, and his previously pale face had gained a slight flush.
"If the nightmares stop, I should be able to recover my lost Vitality Index within a week..."
Lu Sheng thought to himself.
Up to now, he still hadn't figured out what was causing the nightmares.
He had searched online and found that there were four common reasons: sleep posture, diet, illness, and mental stress.
He could rule out the first three. Could it be the approaching college exams putting subconscious pressure on him?
Lu Sheng wasn't sure.
Given that he had already gone through two lifetimes of college entrance exams, his mental resilience should be stronger than most.
It just didn't add up.
As he rested, Lu Sheng's mind wandered aimlessly.
And as it wandered, drowsiness surged like a rising tide.
Unconsciously, Lu Sheng yawned. His eyelids drooped. His body slowly reclined, and he drifted into sleep...
...
A lead-gray sky. A blackened earth. Wisps of gray mist drifting everywhere.
Oppression. Despair. Desolation...
The first thing Lu Sheng saw when he awoke was this bleak landscape.
"This nightmare again..."
Lu Sheng sighed in complete resignation.
"Wake up wake up wake up...!"
He pinched the flesh on his arm and face as hard as he could, trying to jolt himself awake—but it was useless.
Unless a certain point in time was reached, he would remain trapped in this nightmare.
"Uuurghh—"
A strange sound reached his ears, like someone choking, mixed with the dragging shuffle of something across the ground.
"It's coming..."
Lu Sheng groaned internally.
Sure enough, the mist to his left parted, and a tall, rigid humanoid figure emerged into view.
Its skin was ashen. Its eye sockets were sunken, with no eyeballs inside—just hollow voids.
A long gash stretched across its face, exposing gray-white bone and black flesh.
Its body was stiff, its movements sluggish. It wore a tattered, grimy jumpsuit that resembled the uniform of the Victory Squad—but it was filthy, covered in dirt.
It looked exactly like the zombies from the movies in Lu Sheng's previous life.
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