Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups-Chapter 353 - 236

The elevator doors slowly closed with a "hum" sound and began to ascend.

Fang Cheng slightly turned his body, discreetly putting some distance between himself and the two unexpected guests, his gaze sweeping back and forth across them.

The two were supporting each other, their steps unsteady.

One of them had a small build, looking at most sixteen or seventeen years old, yet his fierce demeanor didn’t match his youthful face.

He bit his lower lip hard, his eyes wide open, full of vigilance and hostility. As soon as he stood firm inside, he glared at Fang Cheng, seemingly warning him to mind his own business.

Then, the young man turned his attention back to the middle-aged man beside him, supporting him firmly and continuously asking in a low voice:

"Uncle, how are you? Hang in there!"

"We’re almost to the room; once you take the medicine, you’ll be fine..."

His voice carried the distinctive raspiness of adolescence, trembling slightly due to anxiety.

The middle-aged man referred to as "Uncle" was not tall but exceptionally rugged, his solid physique seemingly containing some wild strength.

At this moment, his already dark complexion became even more somber due to excessive blood loss, large sweat beads continuously rolling down from his forehead.

"I’m okay..."

The middle-aged man gritted his teeth and shook his head.

However, his lips were pale, his steps unsteady, relying on the young man’s support to barely stand.

The elevator moved smoothly, a faint scent of blood permeating the cabin.

In the silence, only the middle-aged man’s heavy breathing was prominently heard.

Wheeze, wheeze.

Each breath seemed like pulling a dilapidated bellows, sluggish and labored.

As if the owner of the voice was enduring some pain unbearable to ordinary people.

This caused the small elevator space’s air to become somewhat heavy.

Even the light at the top of the cabin seemed affected by the oppressive atmosphere, flickering a few times.

Fang Cheng remained indifferent, standing quietly, waiting for the elevator to reach the floor.

Suddenly, a feeling struck him, an abrupt sense of awareness.

He immediately shifted his gaze to the middle-aged man.

His breathing had become increasingly heavy, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably.

It was as if an invisible force inside him was surging, trying to break through some restraint.

Then, a strange and horrifying scene unfolded.

The middle-aged man’s facial features distorted rapidly, a layer of black fur slowly sprouting over his face, each strand standing upright.

His eyes suddenly glowed with a strange green light, extremely uncanny, as if possessed by some evil force.

His previously neat teeth turned sharp and elongated, two canine teeth protruding from the corners of his mouth, saliva dripping through the gaps, emitting a low growl, looking terrifying to the extreme.

The young man’s face changed suddenly, a flash of resolve in his eyes.

He quickly pulled out a gun from his pocket, raised his hand, and with a "bang," shattered the camera in the elevator, shards of glass scattering everywhere.

Immediately, the dark muzzle aimed at Fang Cheng.

His finger poised on the trigger, seemingly ready to pull it and kill without hesitation.

Fang Cheng’s expression remained calm, his gaze unwavering, simply meeting his eyes.

The young man’s finger trembled slightly, a hint of hesitation arising.

"Xiao Bei, don’t act recklessly, how did I teach you?!"

At the moment the atmosphere nearly solidified, the middle-aged man suddenly let out a muddled roar.

The roar sounded like the howl of a wounded wolf, hoarse and shattered, painful beyond bearing, yet not losing any of its deterrent power.

Upon hearing this, the young man’s gun-wielding arm immediately drooped, and he obediently put away the gun.

His eyes still tightly locked onto Fang Cheng, full of suspicion.

After all, any ordinary person witnessing such a scene would have screamed sharply in fright, begged for mercy with their arms over their heads, or fled in panic.

Fang Cheng, however, seemed unfazed, showing no sign of retreat.

This extraordinary calmness made it hard to understand what he was truly about.

The middle-aged man lowered his head, trying hard to restrain the force within him that seemed about to tear him apart.

His fists clenched tightly, knuckles whitened under the strain, his body trembling violently, large beads of sweat continually rolling from his forehead and splashing onto the cabin floor.

Seconds later, the fur on his face began to gradually recede, the green light in his eyes dimmed slowly, and the canine teeth retreated.

The middle-aged man seemed to have overcome the bodily transformation through sheer willpower, regaining some human semblance.

However, his complexion remained pale, his lips bloodless, and his figure swayed unsteadily.

Luckily, the young man reached out in time to support him, preventing him from collapsing to the ground.

Ding.

A crisp ding broke the brief silence.

The elevator arrived at the selected floor, and the doors slowly opened.

Fang Cheng, as if nothing had happened, stepped out.

Upon reaching the entrance, he suddenly paused and turned to look at the middle-aged man, speaking:

"Officer, do you need help with your wound?"

While speaking, his gaze fell on the man’s right ankle.

The sock there was soaked with blood, its color darkened, the swollen and twisted contours vaguely visible, clearly a severe fracture injury.

The middle-aged man, hearing this, instinctively contracted his pupils, staring at Fang Cheng with a mix of shock and suspicion.

He seemed to recognize him, cautiously speaking:

"You are, that day..."

Fang Cheng nodded slightly, then stepped forward.

The young man’s muscles instantly tensed, like a bristling young wolf, he shouted sternly:

"What are you trying to do?!"

Speaking, his hand quickly reached for the gun at his waist.