The System Arrived Four Years Early, but the Anomaly Is Still a Juvenile

Chapter 101

If relentless training can push a person’s physique to two or even three times that of an ordinary human, then Deng Yuqi’s last strike had just unleashed triple the strength of an average person.

Every move was calculated, every action pushed to the limit.

Deng Yuqi was using —a Chinese martial art known for its explosive power.

Shen Ge felt his entire arm go numb from the impact, stumbling back several steps before barely steadying himself. But Deng Yuqi had no intention of letting up. She pressed the attack, her left arm hooking inward to pull Shen Ge into a clinch, followed by a ruthless elbow strike from her right arm.

Section Chief Chen barked from the sidelines, his words both an explanation of Deng Yuqi’s techniques and a tacit encouragement for her to keep going.

Shen Ge attempted to counter with his special combat skills, but Deng Yuqi didn’t dodge—she met every strike head-on, forcing him into a defensive stance. Despite being a grown man, Shen Ge found himself grimacing under the pressure.

The faster Section Chief Chen recited, the fiercer Deng Yuqi’s assault became.

Shen Ge endured another elbow strike, then pivoted to wrap his arms around her, intending to execute a suplex. But before he could complete the move, Deng Yuqi countered with a bow-step sending him flying backward. He landed hard on the ground, his breath ragged and blood surging.

Over the past two months, Shen Ge had sparred with plenty of people in the department—from instructors like Feng Chengxiu and Yu Tiexiong to elite operatives like Zhang Hu, Zhao Long, Wang Han, and Ma Chao. Even the most aggressive among them, the “Stallone No. 2” Feng Chengxiu, couldn’t match the sheer of Deng Yuqi’s strikes.

This was absurd!

Deng Yuqi was tall and slender, with delicate-looking limbs. Who would’ve guessed her bones were practically as hard as stone? Here Shen Ge was, a full-grown man, and was the one feeling the pain from their clashes.

Section Chief Chen said smugly, clearly pleased with the outcome.

Deng Yuqi walked over and offered Shen Ge a hand up, grinning.

Shen Ge coughed, rubbing his chest to ease the discomfort.

Deng Yuqi replied with a laugh.

Lowering his voice, Shen Ge asked,

Shen Ge pressed, curious.

Deng Yuqi said proudly.

Damn.

A new benchmark for combat prowess had been established in the Special Response Division. Shen Ge mentally calculated his own strength—without using his supernatural traits, he could probably take on a Feng Chengxiu at best.

If Deng Yuqi went all out, she could probably handle of him.

As Deng Yuqi and Shen Ge walked back to the sidelines, Section Chief Chen shot Shen Ge a triumphant look.

Sure, Deng Yuqi’s attacks were relentless, but Shen Ge had managed to deflect most of them with his special combat techniques. Even if she’d been holding back, at worst, it was a 40-60 split in her favor.

But the way Section Chief Chen made it sound, it was like Deng Yuqi had pinned him down and pummeled him until he cried uncle.

Shen Ge sighed, then ventured,

Section Chief Chen’s face fell instantly, while Deng Yuqi burst out laughing.

But Shen Ge wasn’t entirely joking. During the spar, he’d seen the potential in traditional martial arts. No, they wouldn’t turn him into some mythical warrior capable of killing with a flick of the wrist, but they maximize the human body’s potential far beyond what standard combat techniques offered.

Recognizing Shen Ge’s genuine interest, Deng Yuqi offered to arrange a meeting with her shiniang.

Section Chief Chen, meanwhile, was left sulking. He’d hoped to recruit a new disciple, only to end up playing matchmaker for someone else—someone he couldn’t even hope to defeat in a fight.

After Deng Yuqi left, Section Chief Chen had Feng Chengxiu continue as Shen Ge’s sparring partner while he explained the fundamentals of Bajiquan.

Shen Ge wasn’t training to become some legendary martial artist—modern combat arts didn’t allow for that kind of fantasy. But there were still benefits: it accelerated his physical conditioning, sharpened his reflexes, and refined his combat mindset. After all, these were techniques honed over millennia.

By the end of the day’s training, Shen Ge was exhausted. He’d initially been on a reduced regimen due to his recent injuries, but the addition of specialized combat drills and martial arts had ramped up the intensity, leaving his body drained.

And that wasn’t even counting his other responsibilities—patrolling for supernatural threats, engaging in random incidents to boost rewards, and most importantly…

Testing his supernatural traits wasn’t easy. He couldn’t exactly experiment on his colleagues without raising suspicion. His secret identity was already hanging by a thread—doing that would be outright suicide.

Practicing at home only went so far. Without real feedback, it felt incomplete.

The next day

Shen Ge slept in until noon, only waking when Cheng Shengnan called to ask if he wanted to play tennis.

Shen Ge joked that he might stand a chance with a game controller, but with an actual racket? Maybe badminton—he’d once won a neighborhood tournament, after all.

His only real exposure to tennis was from an anime where the players could kill with their serves.

Wait.

A thought struck him. What if he used his supernatural abilities to manipulate the ball’s trajectory, like in that anime? Wouldn’t that be perfect for refining his control?

Talk about perfect timing.

Cheng Shengnan’s invitation was like a gift from the heavens. Just as he was looking for a way to practice fine-tuning his abilities, she’d handed him the perfect opportunity.

After some back-and-forth, they settled on badminton at Tianchuan Sports Center.

…..

When Shen Ge arrived, Cheng Shengnan was already waiting, dressed in sportswear with her own racket in hand—not a rental.

Shen Ge teased.

Cheng Shengnan, now wearing contact lenses, looked strikingly different in her athletic gear, her toned legs drawing appreciative glances from others nearby. Still adjusting to the contacts, she reflexively reached to adjust nonexistent glasses and smiled.

They started playing, and to Shen Ge’s surprise, Cheng Shengnan held her own against him. Despite his two months of intensive training, the match was evenly matched.

Shen Ge asked between rallies.

Even though this was badminton, her athleticism was undeniable. He was silently relieved they hadn’t gone with tennis—that might’ve been embarrassing.

Before Shen Ge could process that, Cheng Shengnan added,

Shen Ge’s greatest strength was knowing when to fold.

No way was he stepping onto a tennis court against someone who’d shared the court with a former world No. 1. His tennis skills were strictly , courtesy of ’s Ryoma Echizen. Three missed serves in a row would be too humiliating.

As they played, a whistle cut through the air. A group of men approached, led by a well-dressed guy who looked Cheng Shengnan up and down.

Zhang, a tall guy with a muscular build, smirked.

In Korea, his family’s status might’ve been intimidating. But this was China—no chaebols held sway here.

Cheng Shengnan said coolly, returning her focus to the game.

The lack of response only provoked them further.

They stepped onto the court, deliberately disrupting the game.

Zhang sauntered up, flashing what he probably thought was a charming smile.

Cheng Shengnan’s tone was icy.

One of the lackeys clutched his head as a racket smacked into him.

Shen Ge stepped forward, grinning.

He’d been testing his abilities during the badminton game but found it awkward. Now, these idiots had handed him the perfect opportunity.

Some people assumed guys like this didn’t exist in modern society. Then the proved them wrong.

Given his position, Shen Ge normally wouldn’t bother with such clowns. But unfortunately, his temper wasn’t that forgiving.

The fact that he hadn’t set them on fire already was a testament to his restraint.

one thug snarled.

Shen Ge smirked.

Shen Ge tapped his racket against his palm.

Zhang scoffed.

Shen Ge feigned hesitation.

Zhang sneered.

Shen Ge turned to Cheng Shengnan.

The ultimate taunt.

Cheng Shengnan wasn’t at fault for attracting unwanted attention, but Shen Ge had zero tolerance for entitled brats who thought money and status let them trample over others.

If he turned a blind eye to this, he might as well reincarnate in ancient times and get castrated.

Cheng Shengnan said calmly.

The group froze.

What they’d assumed was a rich guy hitting on a beauty had just flipped into a sugar mommy and her boy toy. Even Zhang’s expression twisted in disbelief.

Cheng Shengnan pulled out her phone, made a call, and then showed Zhang her bank balance.

Damn. This woman meant business.

Zhang was cornered. Five million wasn’t pocket change, even for him. But backing down now would be social suicide—his million followers would vanish overnight.

After the formalities, they moved to the tennis courts, where a group of female influencers was waiting. Clearly, Zhang hadn’t come alone—he’d brought his own entourage.

Cheng Shengnan murmured to Shen Ge.

That made it

Shen Ge strode onto the court while Zhang took his position, swinging his racket with practiced ease. His lackeys hadn’t been lying—Zhang was a nationally ranked player with a real passion for the sport.

Shen Ge stood in the left service box, tapping his racket against his shoulder before beckoning Zhang with a finger.

Zhang’s eyes narrowed. He tossed the ball high and smashed it with a bullet-like serve, the speed breathtaking.

But just as the ball seemed destined to land untouched, it midair—as if frozen for a split second—before Shen Ge casually returned it with a flick of his wrist.

Against Cheng Shengnan, he’d held back out of courtesy.

Against Zhang?

There were only two outcomes:

And Zhang wasn’t capable of the latter.

Zhang barely had time to react before the ball along the top of the net, then dropped onto his side with a soft

the umpire called.

Zhang stared.

This guy could pull off kind of technique?

Impossible!

But for Shen Ge, was impossible. He might not know tennis, but he was a master of tennis.

With precise control over his supernatural abilities, he could make the ball do anything—walk the net, vanish midair, or even curve like a boomerang.