Chapter 2: Learning the Art

  Qianjin even began to feel that this inexplicable virtual game was not entirely useless.

  There are nearly a hundred life skills, each with its own characteristics, and Qian Jingguang has already been dazzled by just looking at them, and for the time being, he really can't make a decision.

  At this time, the voice of the system spirit came from the heart again.

  "My suggestion is to first carry out smelting and forging."

  "Why?"

  "According to the system scan, you have great potential for development in strength and endurance. Forging and smelting happen to be the best ways to improve these two attributes at the beginning of the game. Through them, you can increase these two attributes to over 40 in a short period of time. By then, you should be able to play the game normally."

  "Wait... you mean I still can't play normally?" Gan Jing listened and suddenly felt something was off.

  "Yes, according to the system scan, your physical strength is far below normal standards and must be trained before you can play normally."

  "The physical strength is far below the normal standard..." This sentence sounds a bit awkward, and after repeating it several times, I suddenly realized that this is actually referring to being disabled.

  Qian Jin was indeed both infuriating and amusing, despite being born with a spiritual deficiency that made him unsuitable to become a magician. However, he still managed to rely on his own combat talent to smoothly enroll in the Warrior Department of Oakland Academy. Just one month after entering school, he received recognition from the new student instructor Rodriguez, who called him a promising newcomer.

  Never thought I'd be called a waste in this virtual game...

  "I wonder if Officer Rodriguez will also be evaluated as disabled when he comes...". Qian Jin said, pushing open the iron door of the blacksmith shop.

  The blacksmith's shop was somewhat deserted, and there wasn't the kind of scene he had imagined, with sparks flying everywhere and the furnace burning fiercely. The old blacksmith was leaning against the anvil, smoking a pipe, occasionally bursting out into one or two coughs, which sounded like the bellows in the blacksmith's shop, carrying a hint of a broken sound, making it hard for him not to feel sorry for him.

  Until Qianjin pushed open the iron door, the old man opened his turbid eyes: "We're not firing today, come back tomorrow to make whatever you want."

  Hit a snag as soon as I entered, changed from the previous dry spell, probably turned around and left early.

  Also because of the long-faced crime incident, since then, Gan Jing's progress has not improved, but his face has become much thicker. The old blacksmith ignored him, still with a smile on his face: "I didn't come to hit anything, I came to learn ironwork from you."

  "Huh?" He thought he would be rejected outright, but unexpectedly, the old blacksmith's dull eyes suddenly lit up when he heard this, and he stopped smoking, staring at Gao for a long time before shaking his head with some regret: "I didn't think there were still young people willing to come learn blacksmithing these days. Unfortunately, your body is too weak, not very suitable for this line of work. And I've been a blacksmith all my life, I know how hard it is. With your physical condition, you might not even be able to last a day... why don't you go learn another trade earlier on?"

  "Is your body too weak?" Just now, the system spirit said that his physical strength was far lower than the normal level, and he was still a bit skeptical. But now even the old blacksmith says so, Qianjin can't help but feel a little insecure. However, he quickly replied: "As long as you are willing to teach me, I can endure any hardship!"

  "Is that so, since you can eat all the bitterness..." The old blacksmith closed his dull eyes again, listlessly leaning against the anvil and smoking. In the swirling smoke, a faint sound came from the pipe from time to time. After who knows how long, the old blacksmith finally opened his eyes and pointed with the pipe at a hammer in the corner of the wall: "Then you first bring that hammer over to me."

  "Yes!"

  Qian Jin walked over to the corner of the wall and wanted to pick up the iron hammer on the ground that was as tall as half a person.

  Who would have thought that the weight of the iron hammer was far beyond his expectations? As a Dry Qigong third-level warrior, something weighing two or three hundred pounds was nothing to him. But now, after exhausting all his strength, he could only barely lift the handle of the hammer, let alone pick up the entire iron hammer, which was simply an impossible task.

  Roughly estimated, this iron hammer weighs at least over 1,000 catties.

  A blacksmith who forges iron with a thousand-pound hammer, what concept is this?

  But his stubborn personality was just as strong, it was as if he knew that he was born with a spiritual deficiency, yet he never stopped meditating, he always believed that one day he would be able to feel the existence of magical elements.

  A thousand-pound iron hammer he couldn't lift, but it didn't mean he would give up.

  He was seen biting his teeth tightly, with bulging veins on his forehead, and with a loud roar, he grasped the hammer handle with both hands and exerted all his strength. Only to hear a piercing sound, that thousand-pound iron hammer was actually dragged by him for several inches.

  Can't even get up, can't drag? Although a few inches of distance is negligible, it's already enough for Qianjin.

  The old blacksmith's pipe was still "puffing" away, but in those murky eyes, a hint of approval that was hard to detect was revealed.

  It took only a few steps to walk to the corner of the wall, but dragging that thousand-jin iron hammer back took Qianjin two whole hours.

  A thousand-catty hammer and a two or three hundred catty weight, what's the difference? In these two hours of experience, Gan Jing gained a deep understanding.

  When he finally took the last step, Qian Jing was completely exhausted, it felt like when he first entered Auckland Academy, Officer Rodriguez made him run around the school fifty times, all his strength seemed to be drained out of his body, in front of his eyes were only colorful lights flashing back and forth, by his ears he couldn't hear anything else, only a buzzing sound...

  Sitting on the ground, he stretched out his legs with a dry and weak force, panting heavily. It seemed that no blacksmith in Oakland would use such a heavy hammer to forge iron. I didn't know if it was because the city was too small or if there were simply no blacksmiths in this world who used hammers of this weight.

  It was also unknown how long it took for the old blacksmith to slowly put down his pipe.

  "From today on, you are my apprentice, old Black." After saying this, the old blacksmith bent down and picked up the thousand-pound iron hammer that had taken two hours to drag from the corner of the wall. In the hands of the old blacksmith, it was so handy, his wrist shaking continuously, as if he were holding a feather duster rather than an iron hammer that could smash a person into pulp with one strike.

  He casually picked up a piece of raw iron from beside the anvil and threw it into the furnace: "Start the fire."

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