Clown Game
Chapter 203 - 191 Training

Chapter 203: Chapter 191 Training

Lin Fan opened his eyes.

The ceiling was a pale yellow-green, the paint slightly cracked, with a bulb that was not too glaring, showing slight moist traces where it met the wall.

He let out a weary grunt and sat up.

There was a makeshift wardrobe by the bed with his school uniform in it, which still looked reasonably clean. Between the wardrobe and the bed’s foot, there was a white painted wooden door; opposite the door was a very small washroom.

Looking out the window, there was a small courtyard, with no tall buildings in the distance, just a few scattered low houses, resembling a remote area in the countryside. The shadows of the trees swayed leisurely with the wind, very light, very quiet.

This was all he could see.

Lin Fan lowered his head and gave a bitter smile.

It had been a month since he came here, and although he had been trying to accept everything about this place every moment, he still seemed unable to accept even this small room of less than 20 square meters.

...

"This world is so,

—absurd."

...

Lin Fan shrugged his shoulders, making himself stop pondering this question.

He knew that continuing to think about what this world, or the real world, was actually like, this incredibly sophomoric question, would only add more trouble.

Time was almost up, and if he was late again, that guy with the baseball cap would lecture him again.

Thinking this, Lin Fan sighed helplessly, hopped off the bed, and moved his left shoulder a bit.

It was still a bit stiff but no longer affected his movement.

Reflecting on that day a month ago in the underground parking lot, he clearly knew how broken his body had been, and yet, not being completely paralyzed now, was nothing short of a miracle.

Uh... but "miracles" don’t seem to be all that rare here.

He went to the washroom, and in the mirror... a very ordinary boy, normal hairstyle, normal appearance. His muscles had become slightly more defined compared to a month ago, but it didn’t make him any more noticeable, as if he had been deprived of a presence since birth... The only difference was his eyes, which looked far too mature for his actual age when not deliberately disguised, as if they had been weathered by many years.

Lin Fan quickly washed his face,

It was just a habit; he didn’t really need to wash since in 30 minutes his face would be covered in blood again.

Ever since his body had been repaired, nearly every day ended with him being beaten until he couldn’t stand before he was allowed to rest. This kind of day had lasted almost a month now, and those people... they called this "training."

Uh...

Yes, you read that right, he really had been training for nearly a month, because the repair of his nearly scrapped body... actually took only about two hours.

After washing his face, Lin Fan put on his school uniform.

Having been here for so long, he only had this one set of clothes... uh... he indeed didn’t need a second set — no matter how dirty the clothes got or even if they were ripped to shreds during training, as long as they were placed in the wardrobe, by the next day they would be as good as new.

Yes, that’s right.

I know it doesn’t make sense,

but there are over 40 such wardrobes here.

They were all produced on a production line of a small Eastern European workshop one day in 2002. That batch of wooden products seemed to have been endowed with strange properties, but no one knows why.

This... is exactly what he had just described—ridiculous.

...

Lin Fan quickly got dressed,

By now, he had actually gotten used to the wardrobe’s marvelous settings, especially compared to the doors that lead to different locations, the guy with a USB port growing out of the back of his head, or the fat cat that loiters around every day, endlessly spouting trash talk... and so on. A wardrobe with a "cleaning and mending" function was relatively easy to accept.

He didn’t waste any more time. As he said, if he was late, that bastard in the baseball cap would scold him again.

And the so-called lesson from that person... seemed to be equivalent to "you can do anything as long as the target doesn’t die..."

Well, it was more or less like that.

Lin Fan took a deep breath, clenched his fists, and then pulled out a key from his pocket and inserted it into the keyhole.

The door was pushed open.

Outside the door was a corridor devoid of any decoration, with a faint light at the end sketching the outline of another door.

Lin Fan knew that no matter where it was, any door opened with the key in his hand would definitely lead to that specific "training room."

These keys were all made by someone called "Locksmith," and why it was so, even "Locksmith" himself didn’t know.

Of course, Lin Fan didn’t bother to ponder these things.

He reached the door on the opposite end of the corridor, and at the same time, activated his Future Vision.

"Heh... Today... I must beat you!"

He muttered, his tone laced with discontent. Then he pushed open the door.

Instantly, a bright light beamed in. Lin Fan was obviously prepared and squinted his eyes in advance.

The room could be described as "spacious", with dozens of white incandescent lights overhead illuminating the entire space brightly; the floor and the walls covered with a white special cushioning material—apart from that, it was completely empty.

Lin Fan didn’t bother to look around, as he already knew from before opening the door that in one second, a bastard in a baseball cap would appear in front of him unannounced, and then kick him to the ground...

As expected, arriving even before that kick was the whistling of the wind.

Lin Fan didn’t look down. He didn’t need to, as he had seen it many times before—a sharply honed iron spike had somehow appeared in his hand and had also preemptively positioned itself in the path of that incoming kick.

But suddenly, in Lin Fan’s Future Vision, there was a blank.

The sound of the wind stopped abruptly. The next moment, a massive force struck his lower back, piercing through his body. With a dull thud, Lin Fan’s body was flung through the air like an inverted bow, and the severe pain made him curl up in midair like a shrimp splashed from water, then he heavily landed on the ground, rolling out a long way.

Before the impact on Lin Fan’s body had completely dissipated, a voice that sounded annoyingly cocky spoke up:

"How many times have I told you, that ability to see the future of yours just doesn’t work well, you can’t always..." But, he paused mid-sentence, bewildered.

The man in the baseball cap, who looked like a gangster, bowed his head, only to see a pool of blood gradually spreading from his shoe...

Lin Fan, supporting his body, got up, with fresh blood dripping from the iron spike in his hand. "Heh, not necessarily," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Hmm... looks like I was careless." The baseball cap guy nonchalantly scratched his head, seemingly indifferent to his pierced foot, then he moved his neck around, making a creaking sound: "Well then, it seems... today’s training needs a little extra..."