The moon is bright, the wind is clear, and the ground is covered with silver frost.
In front of a secret base located several kilometers in a straight line from Kyoto, as the heavy iron gate opened, a young man in battle gear with a crew cut walked out steadily.
His towering and robust body, more than 1.9 meters tall, exuded an invisible pressure, appearing powerful and mighty. As he walked, he resembled a moving fortress, even the large trucks parked outside seemed vulnerable to a casual bump from him.
"Hoo—!"
After stepping out of the gate that had confined him for two years, the young man spread his arms and looked up at the night sky, letting out a long breath.
During the two years at the base, besides cultivating, he endured all kinds of modern, brutal trials every day. This daily grind made him feel like he was in prison.
"Kyoto, I, Zhao Junwei, am back again!"
"Hahaha..."
"Vroom, vroom, vroom—!"
