The call seemed to come from a far distance, ethereal and vague.

Gao Xuan gradually regained consciousness. He found his body especially heavy and stiff, even his eyelids wouldn't lift easily.

This feeling was like that of a few-months-old baby, struggling to control his own body.

This was clearly not his powerful Golden Body, but an ordinary human body. That's why it felt so heavy and sluggish. His powerful Spiritual Power was also completely restrained. It wasn't much stronger than when he was a bug.

Still, it was better than being a bug.

Gao Xuan knew in his heart that this was the world of the Nine-Revolutions Divine Cicada, and he was only here with his Divine Soul, so encountering anything strange wasn't surprising.

As Gao Xuan was thinking, he suddenly felt a cold splash on his face, which made him shiver and open his eyes.

Then, he saw a greasy, fat-faced man. This guy was not only fat and old but also bald, holding half a bottle of mineral water in his hand.

Clearly, this guy had splashed water on his face.

The bald old man saw Gao Xuan open his eyes and immediately broke into a wide grin, laughing joyfully: "I thought you were dead, almost sent you to the crematorium. Seems like I saved on cremation fees."

This guy had a rough way of speaking, as if his tongue couldn't hold back, spitting saliva everywhere with his words. His breath was especially bad, like a latrine after days of fermenting.

As the man spoke, relevant memories surfaced in Gao Xuan's mind: Old Fatty, the manager of the Flying Tiger Boxing Hall, an old rascal, old scoundrel.

In this world, he was called Gao Xuan too, but he was already forty, and his wife had also died. Luckily, there was no melodramatic sick daughter left behind!

He used to be a fighter with excellent records. After his wife died, he became despondent, turning to alcohol and ruining his body. He couldn't step into the ring anymore.

Old Fatty, a friend of many years, feeling sorry for him, gave him a job as a sparring partner in the boxing hall. Essentially, acting as a punching bag for fighters.

Just now, a fighter suddenly kicked him, the blow landing on his head and knocking him out.

Gao Xuan organized his memories and finally understood his situation. It seemed like he was living a pretty pathetic life now.

Old Fatty continued yammering: "Old Gao, you're only forty and already like this, you're too pathetic. All those years of training your muscles and bones now soaked in alcohol, you better damn well quit drinking..."

Gao Xuan barely managed to lift his arm to push aside the fat face: "You're going to suffocate me to death, move aside."

Seeing Gao Xuan speak and his gaze focused, Old Fatty finally let out a genuine sigh of relief.

With decades of friendship, he didn't want anything bad to happen to Gao Xuan from the beating.

Old Fatty turned to the young, strong fighter standing nearby: "Yu Xiaoming, what the hell are you doing? Supposed to be sparring, who the hell told you to kick? Can you take responsibility if you kill someone?"

Yu Xiaoming glanced at Gao Xuan and snorted, showing no hint of apology, and instead wore a look of disdain.

Old Fatty couldn't do anything to Yu Xiaoming over such a small matter, but he scolded: "You kicked someone, then act like you're in the right, hurry up and apologize."

Under Old Fatty's stern gaze, Yu Xiaoming reluctantly said, "Old Gao, I didn't know you were so weak, sorry about that."

Not waiting for Gao Xuan to respond, Yu Xiaoming turned his head and left.

Gao Xuan felt a bit speechless. This kid was pretty arrogant. That kick was clearly aimed at his head on purpose. Without headgear and after drinking heavily, his body's reactions were slow, and he was caught unguarded by the kick.

In any other place, this would amount to intentional injury.

Gao Xuan couldn't recall if he had any previous grudges with the kid, but it didn't matter.

What mattered was how to complete this trial?

Gao Xuan was a bit puzzled, about what this identity, this world, the Nine-Revolutions Divine Cicada, meant?

Old Fatty dragged Gao Xuan by hand, pulling him up. Seeing the still dazed look on his face, he asked concernedly: "Are you alright, want to go to the hospital for a scan..."

Gao Xuan held his head: "I have a concussion, what do you think?"

"Trying to extort money from me, huh!"

Old Fatty reacted swiftly, taking a step back and clutching his pocket, "Don't even think about it."

The others gathered around watching burst into laughter.

Old Fatty waved a plump hand: "Pay up if you're watching. Hurry and get back to work. The boxing hall doesn't support freeloaders."

The crowd laughed and dispersed, while Old Fatty dragged Gao Xuan to a seat on the side: "Old Gao, listen to me, let this go. Yu Xiaoming is a fighter with great potential, the hall values him. You understand."

The boxing hall wouldn't care about who is right, only about who is more valuable.

Gao Xuan was just a sparring partner, not worth much. His opinions didn't count for anything. If Gao Xuan dared to cause trouble, the boxing hall would immediately fire him.

"Alright. Whatever you say."

Gao Xuan didn't want to fuss over this trivial matter. The urgent task was to figure out the situation and find a way to break through.

"Good brother, you got the short end of the stick this time."

Old Fatty sighed and patted Gao Xuan on the shoulder. He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and stuffed it into Gao Xuan's pocket: "Go home and have something nice to eat."

With that, Old Fatty shook his head and left.

The old Gao Xuan, fiery in temperament, wouldn't have swallowed this insult. Of course, the old Gao Xuan, with his robust physique known as the fierce tiger, wouldn't have been knocked out with a single kick.

Gao Xuan was old, a hero at twilight. It made Old Fatty sigh deeply.

Gao Xuan sat on the chair and gradually recovered, adapting to this body.

This world had no Source Power, and his Spiritual Power was completely restricted. Thus, he had no Extraordinary Power. Fortunately, Spiritual Power could still be applied to himself.

Close combat was very popular in this world. Competent fighters were welcomed. World-class professional fighters had annual incomes exceeding nine figures.

This body, at its peak, was considered first-rate in the country. Unfortunately, it hadn't reached its zenith before the wife encountered an accident. As a result, the person was ruined.

Gao Xuan didn't quite understand the original owner's thoughts of this body; why give up living just because your wife died?

Of course, the wife was stabbed to death in the street, and the original owner always suspected it was done by a competitor. There was just never any evidence found.

This world had backward technology, and a decade ago, there weren't many cameras. Once a case like this went unsolved back then, it was nearly impossible to find the murderer later.

Gao Xuan felt that this brother had a hard life, though he also had character flaws, too extreme, having taken a wrong path.

The more setbacks, the stronger you become; emerging from blows and winning championships, gaining honor and money, then seeking revenge would become easier.

Sinking into despair like this now, aside from making the enemy happy, what other effect could there be?

Gao Xuan sorted out his circumstances but couldn't think of a clear direction. He clutched his head and went into the dressing room, took a shower first, then found his clothes to change into.

This person dressed very casually, just a T-shirt and leather jacket, jeans, and thick-soled army boots. A typical wanderer's attire.

Gao Xuan examined himself in the mirror; his features bore a resemblance to him, showing that he was handsome and charming in his youth. But with age and a decadent life, the facial muscles sagged and couldn't hold up anymore.

The human face is very delicate; even one uncoordinated muscle is noticeable. As one ages, a little muscle slack can change the look of the eyes and brows.

Gao Xuan couldn't be called ugly now, but his eyes were murky, his brows drooped a bit, giving him a forlorn look.

After decades of training, his body was barely okay, but the belly had already bulged out, and the muscles lost their definition. Fortunately, with his tall stature, even more fat could support his figure fairly well, not looking too bad.

The spot where Yu Xiaoming swept him with his leg was swollen with a big bump, and the head looked a bit deformed. Thankfully, his hair was long enough to cover it.

"Living like this is quite tragic..."

Gao Xuan sighed inwardly, with such a bleak life, seeing no hope, it's no wonder one would fall.

At this moment, Yu Xiaoming and two young fighters walked in. The three wore only training shorts, their upper bodies bare with pronounced muscle lines, exuding a masculine aura.

Yu Xiaoming saw Gao Xuan in front of the mirror, sneered, "Old Gao, if you can't take it, don't do sparring. Getting knocked down and still wanting me to apologize, have a little pride."

Without Old Fatty, Yu Xiaoming was unrestrained. He had disliked Gao Xuan and wanted to teach him a lesson. Being forced to apologize, that made him more unhappy.

Gao Xuan actually didn't want to bother with Yu Xiaoming; it didn't matter what intentions Yu Xiaoming had to make things difficult for him.

This world was merely an illusion, or one constructed by the Nine-Revolutions Divine Cicada. Competing with Yu Xiaoming was like competing with an in-game NPC; it held no meaning.

For him, the key was to complete the task and get through the levels. But the other guy was clearly pushing it. The less attention he paid, the more things would follow.

Gao Xuan walked over, almost putting his face to Yu Xiaoming's. He stood a few centimeters taller than Yu Xiaoming, weighed over twenty more kilograms. In terms of build, he seemed to have the advantage.

The truly terrifying thing was Gao Xuan's eyes—deep, cold, devoid of any human emotion.

Yu Xiaoming and Gao Xuan had known each other for quite some time; he had seen Gao Xuan's arrogance, his dejection, his drunk debauchery, but he had never seen such a sharp and piercing Gao Xuan.

In that instant, Yu Xiaoming felt as if his heart was gripped by an invisible force, tense sweat even broke out on his forehead.

"Kid, you go your way, I'll go mine. Don't mess with me."

Gao Xuan said as he pushed Yu Xiaoming aside and walked off on his own accord.

Yu Xiaoming was stunned for a moment, then burst into rage. He actually felt afraid of this waste; this made him feel ashamed and furious.

He clenched his fist and shouted at Gao Xuan's back, "Waste, believe it or not, I'll beat you to death tomorrow..."

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