Chapter 957 The Effect of Anti-Strike Training
After two punches, Draco's face turned pale and he staggered, as if he would fall down at any time.
Maybe he was used to being beaten, he stood firm quickly amidst the countless laughs, covered his stomach and glared at Vincent with murderous eyes.
"Wayne, this is what you call resistance training?"
Vincent was a little surprised. "Not bad. If it were before, you would have already fallen to the ground."
Draco slowly straightened up, "Bullshit beating training! You are clearly targeting me!"
Vincent shook his head, his blue eyes full of disappointment. "I didn't force you to accept my training. If you don't want to, the door is over there. You can leave at any time."
He had never tolerated this young master's temper before, and it was even less likely that he would do so now.
But he was disappointed again, because Draco not only did not leave, he even rolled up his sleeves with a proud look on his face.
"What are you doing? Keep going!"
Vincent is screwed.
Who would ask to be beaten again? Could it be that they developed feelings for each other or Stockholm syndrome?
He clenched his fists with a look of disgust, using a little more force than before.
After this punch, Draco opened his mouth wide and almost spit out his breakfast.
Harry shrank his head, his eyes full of sympathy.
But when he thought about the fact that he also had to undergo such training to resist blows, he couldn't help but subconsciously cover his stomach.
Vincent looked even more surprised.
Draco didn't fall down, but stared at him stubbornly.
The old bat really has a way. He managed to tame such a proud young master.
What’s even more amazing is that he managed to deal with Master Lucius. Given this young master’s personality, he would have definitely moved out his rich father long ago.
Thinking of this, Vincent was completely relieved.
It would be a waste not to hit the free human sandbag, just don't hit him to death.
The next second, a violent iron fist came.
Starting with the abdominal muscles, the chest, waist and shoulders come next, followed by the limbs and back.
Draco said nothing the whole time, only his eyes became more and more fierce.
After about ten minutes, Vincent stopped.
I can already vaguely see the red and engorged muscles under the custom-made tights soaked with sweat. Today's training is almost over.
"Malfoy, your muscles may feel sore and itchy when you get back. This is normal. You'd better ask someone to massage you."
Draco loosened his clenched teeth, "Wayne, are you done?"
Vincent turned to Harry, waved his hand at him with his back turned, and said, "Goodbye, if you can't stand it, you don't have to come tomorrow."
"Hmph—" Draco turned around, the severe pain making his legs tremble uncontrollably.
The two younger brothers under the ring quickly picked him up.
"Don't come over here!" Draco pushed their hands away and slowly walked out of the activity room with all his strength.
Vincent looked at his still proud back and wondered if he could put his perseverance somewhere else.
"Harry, let's start the test of strength."
Vincent took out the barbell he usually used for exercise from Flamel's ring.
Although it didn't look big, Harry almost lost his grip after he picked it up.
"Hold it up for 10 seconds. If you succeed, I'll add more weight until you can't hold it anymore."
……
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the other side,
Draco returned to the dormitory and lay limply on the bed.
After the severe pain, he felt as if there were countless small insects crawling around in his body.
Oh, and massage!
He turned his head with difficulty to look at Crabbe and Goyle who were standing stupidly beside the bed, "Come over and give me a massage!"
Maybe it was because of the two brothers' technique, because he grimaced in pain after just one press.
"Draco, does a Muggle massage require you to take off your clothes?"
Draco glared at Crabbe fiercely, "Bullshit! No one takes off clothes for a proper massage!"
Crabbe lowered his head weakly, "No, that's not right. One night during the summer vacation, I took the wrong road and entered a Muggle massage parlor. The people in the small room were not wearing any clothes."
Draco's face turned slightly red. "Are you sure you entered a massage parlor?"
"It's a massage parlor. I think it was called Winter Night Rose or Winter Night Rising or something."
There is only one letter difference between rose and rise, but their meanings are worlds apart.
Winter Night Rose, you can tell from the name that it is not a decent massage parlor.
Draco didn't bother to pay attention to him, "Go on, and remember to be gentle."
It didn't hurt as much this time.
And just like that bastard Wayne said, he felt the muscles that had been beaten were a little sore and itchy.
It’s not that I feel uncomfortable, it’s even a little comfortable. It’s really weird.
As he pressed, Draco closed his eyes with a look of enjoyment.
At noon, he opened his eyes and found that his two younger brothers were still massaging him.
"Okay, you can stop now."
He stretched himself and smelled the sweat on his body.
How could the noble heir of the Malfoy family endure the stinking sweat? He stood up, opened the closet, took out a set of clothes, rushed out of the dormitory, and went straight to the bathroom at the end of the corridor.
After taking a pleasant bath, Draco stood in front of the mirror and put on his clothes.
"Hmm?" He stared at the mirror blankly, then lowered his head to look at the still red muscles in his upper body.
It doesn't seem to hurt anymore, and it feels much firmer.
"The main purpose of anti-strike training is to improve the body's ability to withstand blows, thereby reducing the chance of injury and enhancing confidence and endurance in confrontation..."
Draco recalled what Vincent had said, and the expression on his face gradually changed from questioning to understanding.
Wayne's bullshit beating training actually works?
This is impossible! He has been beaten more than once or twice, why didn't the previous ones have any effect?
"Gulp——" I'm hungry.
Puzzled, he buttoned his shirt and returned to the dormitory.
After arriving at the auditorium, he sat down and enjoyed his lunch immediately.
I had a particularly good appetite today and finished a steak in no time.
Draco tapped his glass with his knife and ordered another helping of steak.
Halfway through the meal, he felt slightly full.
Two servings are not enough, give me two more!
After eating four steaks, he felt about 70% full.
Have some tiramisu and your beautiful day will start from now on.
After lunch, Draco took his two younger brothers on a leisurely tour of the castle.
When the students saw how good he was feeling about himself, they all started whispering to each other.
"Did Malfoy get beaten silly?"
"Not really. If Vincent had really done something ruthless, he wouldn't have been able to be alive and kicking so quickly."
Draco seemed not to have heard their bad words and came to the fifth floor in a good mood.
Since I have nothing to do anyway, I might as well go and watch Pote’s training.
He arrived at the right time. Harry, who had warmed up, was doing resistance training.
Compared to the morning, Vincent's punching speed and force were obviously much greater, but strangely, Harry's expression did not seem painful.
"Fuck!" Draco clenched his fists tightly. He knew that this bastard Wayne would treat people differently.
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