SanJose Clark looked at the color of the sky, then leaped up and rushed down the mountain. If anyone had seen him right now, they would be stunned.
Each of his stride was astonishingly capable of bringing him almost 3 meters. He seemed unaffected by the mountain's cracks and uneven footing, as he effortlessly avoided and advanced between openings. Even compared to adults, he would be significantly faster.
What was the essence of the SanJose Clan? Hidden weaponry and Unique abilities.
The most significant difference between the Inner and Outer SanJose Clan was their use of hidden weaponry.
The outer sect prioritized mechanisms, whereas the inner group emphasized actual method.
The Mysterious Heavenly Hidden Techniques only described martial arts skills:
Red Demon Eyes
Extrasensory Perception
Sonido/Super Speed Movements
Celestial body Refinement
The first 4 were fundamentals; after all, without a solid foundation, how could one bring out the essence of SanJose Clans UniqueTechniques?
SanJose Clark, who was six years old at the time, was still establishing the groundwork for Mysterious Heavenly Skills training after beginning at the age of one.
SanJose Clark's family lived on the westside of Malinta Village, near the village chief's residence.
The three-room mud brick house could be considered the most basic in the village. It featured a one-meter-wide wooden plaque over the door that was painted with a simple hammer. In this world, the hammer was the most widely recognized emblem of a blacksmith.
That's correct. SanJose Clark's father, SanJose Jordan, was a blacksmith, the only one in the village.
In this world, blacksmithing may be considered the most modest occupation. This is because, for some reason, blacksmiths did not forge any of the world's best weapons.
Upon Entering the house, SanJose Clark already smelled fragrant rice. That wasn't SanJose Jordan making him breakfast; rather he cooked for SanJose Clark.
Starting from four years old, before SanJose Clark was tall enough to reach the kitchen counter, cooking was already his daily task; even if he had to stand on a stool in order to be able to reach the top of the kitchen counter.
It wasn't because SanJose Jordan demanded it, but rather because if he didn't do it, Sanjose Clark would practically never be able to eat his fill.
Arriving before the kitchen counter, he stood on the wooden stool with practiced ease, lifting the lid of the large iron cooking pot, the scent of fragrant rice wafting out. The cauldron's congee had cooked thoroughly for a long time.
Every day, before going up the hill, SanJose Clark always made sure to put rice in the pot to cook and prepare the firewood so that when he returned, the congee would be cooked well.
Picking up two already worn out bowls with more than ten inches from the counter to the side, SanJose Clark very cautiously ladled congee into the two bowls and placed them on the table behind him.
The congee's rice grains could practically be counted by eye, and for SanJose Clark's growing body, this little nutrition was obviously insufficient; this was also the reason why his body was as slim as a thread.
"Dad, food."
SanJose Clark called out.
After a long time, the inner room door drape lifted, and a large figure appeared with somewhat staggering steps and walked out.
It was a middle aged man, his appearance seemed close to fifty years old. His stature was still extraordinarily large and stalwart, though one dared not compliment his style of dress.
His worn robe covered with holes, without so much as a patch, exposed bronze colored skin. His previously good facial features now appeared waxed in color. He had a pair of sleepy eyes and a dazed manner; messy hair that looked just like a bird's nest, a beard that had gone who knew how long without being straightened out. A dim and lifeless look was visible in his eyes. Even though the night had already passed, he still reeked of alcohol, yet SanJose Clark didn't frown.
This was SanJose Jordan, SanJose Clark's father in this world.
While growing up, SanJose Clark never knew what paternal love was. The way SanJose Jordan treated him was always the same regardless, being firm right from the beginning.
Although he knew to make a little food for him to eat, nevertheless, as time passed, right after SanJose Clark started taking the initiative to cook, SanJose Jordan became even more uncaring of anything. In this way their home was so impoverished that they didn't even have decent furniture. Food also was a problem, mainly due to SanJose Jordan using all that meager blacksmith income to trade for alcohol.
While SanJose Clark was a small child, his father was really also about 30 years old, married so early even before thirty years old, but SanJose Jordan nevertheless must be compared to someone much older, he rather resemble SanJose Clark's grandfather.
With regard to SanJose Jordan's behavior, SanJose Clark carried no resentment. In his former lifetime, he was an orphan. In this lifetime, even though SanJose Jordan treated him badly, he at least had family. For SanJose Clark, this already made him feel content. At least here there was a person he could call father.
SanJose Jordan grabbed the bowl from the table, not worried about scalding, and with big gulps poured the congee down into his belly. His dull sallow face appeared to gain a bit of luster.
Chapter Ends.