Chapter 188
Chapter 188: Chapter 135 âFamous in History?â and âEnd of the Worldâ (Seeking Subscription) _2
Translator: 549690339
âI canât let everyone fall into hell because of one decision of mine.â
Milton Cheney spoke, heavily slamming his hand on the office desk in front of him, leaving a crack on it.
William Yorke casually glanced at the desk, his countenance unchanged.
âWe canât stretch it for ten years, at most three years. Iâm not sure I will live that long.â
âWe have to stretch it for five years at least until all the Martial Arts students graduate!â
Milton Cheney sternly stated.
Time now was like a suspended knife over their heads, ready to fall at any moment.
âIâll try my best, but thereâs really no need for this.â
âWe can simply say weâve done our best.â
Hearing this, Milton Cheney turned to look into William Yorkeâs eyes.
He saw a trace of fatigue in those eyes.
This was the first time he had heard such dispirited words from William Yorke.
If the Deputy Councilor was feeling this way, one could only imagine how others privy to the situation felt.
Perhaps, this was the reason for his reincarnation into this world.
âIf you canât hold on, then let your son Wesley Yorke take your place. You have to die for me in the Subspace!â
William Yorke didnât respond to this statement.
The fatigue in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a faint smile.
He turned his head and left Milton Cheneyâs office.
âThis old geezer.â
Watching William Yorkeâs retreating figure, Milton Cheney chuckled and cursed under his breath.
However, his expression quickly turned serious.
At this time, Milton Cheney was very clear that sometimes dying was much harder than living.
Leaving the office, Milton Cheney headed to another location.
He pushed open the door and walked in.
âOld Sullivan, howâs the grading of Martial Arts coming along?
Milton Cheney got straight to the point.
The âOld Sullivanâ he referred to was a middle-aged man wearing glasses, who nodded in response to Milton Cheneyâs question.
âThe initial grading has been completely abolished and we have re-graded according to the grades you mentioned.â
âFrom the First Grade to Nine Grades, above Seventh Grade are Grandmaster, Great Grandmaster, and Martial Saint you mentioned.â
Hearing this, Milton Cheney nodded his head.
The grading of Martial Arts was not as easy as he had imagined.
It wasnât about merely assigning grades; it also demanded numerous experiments against the backdrop of the Martial Arts Realm to identify the optimal grading points.
âYou currently belong to the Seventh Grade in the New Martial Arts Realm, which is the Grandmaster level. This is currently the highest grade in
Federation Martial Arts, and the⊠limit of the Martial Arts Path presently!â
âWhat about the Federation Research Institute? Still no progress?â
Milton Cheney nonchalantly found a place to sit.
He took out a herbal cigarette and lit it.
Edward Sullivan shook his head. He also took a cigarette from Milton Cheneyâs box and lit it.
âWithout a reference, we canât progress.â
âEven the Breathing Technique I provided doesnât work?â
Edward Sullivan took a deep breath of the herbal cigarette and shook his head: âAlthough I donât know where you got this Breathing Technique from, unfortunately, it canât integrate with Martial Arts.â
âA Seventh Grade Warrior is still too weak.â
Milton Cheney voiced his thoughts.
In this New Martial Arts Realm, the Seventh Grade represents a Spiritual Physique on par with a Level 1 Wizard.
The higher Eighth and Ninth Grades are representative of Level 2 and Level 3 Wizards.
In other words, if Milton Cheney could reach the status of a Martial Saint in this world, he would become a unique Level 3 Wizard when he returned to the Wizard Realm.
The sound of Milton Cheneyâs voice dwindled, leaving behind a silent atmosphere embracing both men.
Eventually, Edward Sullivan broke the silence.
He asked, âHowâs the Hope Project going?
Milton Cheney exhaled a cloud of smoke, shook his head, and retorted, âI turned it down. I donât think itâs a good time.â
Surprise flitted across Edward Sullivanâs eyes, âThat doesnât sound like you.â âWhat am I like? Ruthless? Impulsive? Or insanely reckless?â
Milton Cheney pinched out the burning herbal cigarette in his hand, smiling as he counter-questioned.
It seemed like he was asking Edward Sullivan, but also himself.
Edward Sullivan didnât answer his question.
âLetâs go. Get those old guys at the Research Institute to push harder. Weâre people who are going to make history.â
Milton Cheney got up laughing and spoke in a lighthearted manner.
Edward Sullivan remained silent, sitting there puffing on his herbal cigarette.
Only when he saw Milton Cheney leave did he start to get up.
He had never thought that he would become a pioneer of this era.
He was the Federationâs highest-ranking researcher and also currently the third Councilor of the Federation. âMaking history?â
âThat doesnât sound too bad!â
Edward Sullivan smiled and extinguished the herbal cigarette in his hand.
Time passed day by day, and in the blink of an eye, five years had elapsed.
Central square, Sea Market.
George Shaw dropped his teacup on the ground without noticing.
At this moment, he was dumbfoundedly staring at the large screen in the center of the square.
Like him, everyone in the square was looking up at the big screen.
On the screen, a middle-aged man in a uniform was speaking eloquently, answering countless peopleâs questions.
He was not unfamiliar with this person.
He knew one of his junior students seemed to have become a big shot, but he didnât expect him to be this influential.
Although he didnât understand what the âHope Projectâ that his influential junior student was talking about meant, he still kept his eyes glued to the big screen in the square.
Not until the middle-aged man on the screen had answered all the questions and then uttered a statement that was deafening to him.
âThe end of the world, is coming.â
This last sentence quietened down the noisy square in an instant.
Confusion and disbelief were visible in the eyes of countless people..