Grinding to Become the Master of the Universe

Chapter 330 - 165: The Terror of a Sky Soaring Martial Artist, a Lifetime of Learning, Epiphany of the Killing Move [Jinluan]

Grinding to Become the Master of the Universe

Chapter 330 - 165: The Terror of a Sky Soaring Martial Artist, a Lifetime of Learning, Epiphany of the Killing Move [Jinluan]

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Chapter 330: Chapter 165: The Terror of a Sky Soaring Martial Artist, a Lifetime of Learning, Epiphany of the Killing Move [Jinluan]

Yu Lin finished reviewing the intel and gave a succinct assessment.

"Greenskins... they’re a nuisance, that’s all. Hard to wipe out, but not much of a direct threat."

Carlo stroked his chin. "The key is to find the Primordial Acupoint," he added. "The environment on the Death Planet is complex. It’ll take time."

"Then it’s settled."

Linzhou made the call. "There’s no time to lose. We’ll gear up immediately and head out."

"Alright."

Qin Feng nodded.

The four of them immediately headed to the power armor maintenance bay.

Qin Feng deftly retrieved his "Punisher I-Class" power armor from his Subspace Storage Unit. As his identity was confirmed, cold mechanical arms extended from both sides, piece by piece installing a set of heavy, menacing, Warhammer-esque power armor components onto his body.

KLANG... CLANK...

Chest plate, back plate, pauldrons, vambraces... One by one, ceramic-steel plates shimmering with a cold metallic light were driven by hydraulic mechanisms, locking seamlessly onto his torso and limbs.

Finally, the heavy helmet slowly descended, sealing shut against the Life-Sustaining Ring at his neck with a soft HISS.

A stream of light-blue data flashed before his eyes as the Tactical HUD interface materialized on his retina—vital signs, energy reserves, ammunition count, radar targeting... All functions were normal.

Qin Feng flexed his limbs out of habit, testing the feel of the power armor.

This time, however, the sensation was completely different from before.

He could clearly feel that when he exerted force, the miniature Energy Core within the power armor was running on overload, its mechanical transmission system letting out a faint groan.

The immense Amplification of power, which once made him feel like a Celestial God descended, was no longer nearly as pronounced.

’This "Punisher I-Class" power armor is the standard-issue equipment mass-produced by the Empire for Level 4 Martial Artists. Its design was based on the Upper-grade Acupoint Opening Technique, making it most suitable for Martial Artists with a life force index between 30 and 570.’

’And now... my life force index is 1730. I’ve far surpassed its optimal range.’

Qin Feng understood perfectly.

Now, the amplification the power armor offered him in terms of strength, speed, and endurance was negligible.

Its greatest functions were reduced to its formidable defense system, its comprehensive battlefield life-support system, and the versatility to mount heavy weapons.

He felt like a grown giant who had forcibly squeezed into a suit of armor tailor-made for a teenager. He could wear it, but every movement felt constricting and awkward.

’Looks like it’s time for an upgrade,’ he thought.

The thought surfaced uncontrollably, and a mental checklist of needs immediately followed.

’Once this mission is complete and I have a surplus of Contribution Points, I have to get a higher-grade suit of power armor, at least a "Defender" series used by a Fifth-level Martial Artist.’

’The Level 4 Alloy Long Spear has got to go too. With my current strength, this standard-issue spear would probably shatter after just a few full-power strikes. I need to switch to a weapon forged from a level five alloy.’

’Also, to adapt to different battle situations, I’ll need to buy a long staff. After all, I already have Control over the Wind and Thunder Long Staff technique, and it’s a major trump card. And since the spear and staff share a common origin, the long staff will definitely be one of my primary weapons.’

’And for planetary surface operations, a small personal flight vehicle is indispensable. It would dramatically increase my mobility...’

’Most critically, after I break through to Fifth-level Martial Artist, I’ll still need to redeem the follow-up to the "Great Sun Acupoint Opening Method"—the "Great Sun Qi Meridian Method" Cultivation Technique. That thing... is going to cost an astronomical amount...’

The more Qin Feng thought, the bigger his headache grew.

’I’m so broke...’

Qin Feng let out a helpless sigh in his mind.

However, the feeling was fleeting.

He quickly steeled his resolve.

’There’s no use thinking about all this. You eat your meal one bite at a time, you walk your path one step at a time. The most important thing right now is to complete this mission, earn Contribution Points, and constantly improve my strength. As long as I’m strong enough, I’ll naturally earn Contribution Points faster and faster.’

Strength was the foundation of everything.

Soon, Linzhou, Carlo, and Yu Lin were also suited up.

The models of power armor they wore were all different, obviously heavily customized to their own combat styles, their craftsmanship far superior to Qin Feng’s standard-issue suit.

Four war machines, imbued with the brutal beauty of steel and power, stepped onto Teleportation Platform C-7 with heavy gaits.

"Coordinates locked: Death Planet K-7."

"Subspace beacon calibrated."

"Energy infusion initiated. Teleportation in three... two... one..."

As the cold, electronic countdown finished, a blinding white light erupted from the Teleportation Platform.

Space seemed to be twisted and folded by an invisible, giant hand, forming a deep vortex.

The four figures rapidly blurred and grew indistinct within the white light, finally vanishing completely.

-----------------

The vertigo from the Subspace Teleportation receded like a tide, replaced by a nauseating stench—a mix of rotting fungi and metallic rust.

The four menacing war machines landed heavily on solid ground as the last ripple of distorted light and shadow faded away.

This was the Death Planet, K-7.

The sky was a sickly, jaundiced yellow. Thick clouds, like a shroud soaked in corpse oil, hung oppressively overhead.

The air was thick with the acrid smell of cordite and the sickly-sweet reek of spores. Every breath felt like swallowing a pinch of rust and dust.

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