One person: Go talk to my Rumble-Rumble Fruit!

Page 76

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The second day's match was between Feng Baobao and Zhang Chulan.

Inside the martial arts training ground on the back of Longhu Mountain.

Zhang Chulan stood in the center of the arena, fine beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. It wasn't because of the upcoming battle, but because of the figure opposite him—Feng Baobao.

She was still dressed in the same simple outfit she never wore before, with a loose tracksuit that looked somewhat baggy on her.

Her hair was casually gathered at the back of her head, revealing her smooth, full forehead. At this moment, she held the iconic Okamoto 0.01 in her hand, the blade gleaming coldly in the afternoon sun.

However, her gaze was like two bottomless yet excessively clear ancient wells, piercing through the noisy air and landing directly on Zhang Chulan. There was no fighting spirit or murderous intent in her eyes, only a kind of pure focus as if she were executing an order. She remembered Zhang Chulan saying, "Losing should be graceful, but not too fake."

"Game start!!!"

Feng Baobao moved.

Her figure blurred instantly, leaving only a faint afterimage in place, silently approaching Zhang Chulan like a ghost.

The speed was so fast that it made the spectators with slightly lower cultivation levels on the sidelines dizzy! The short sword in his hand was not drawn, but with a whistling wind, the blunt end of the scabbard was used to accurately strike Zhang Chulan's chest acupoint. The move was ruthless and tricky, aimed directly at the vital point, and was by no means a mere showman!

Zhang Chulan's pupils shrank drastically, and his scalp tingled instantly!

This is the real thing!

"Wow! Bao'er, are you serious?!"

Almost entirely relying on instinct honed through countless brushes with death, the faint light of the Golden Light Mantra within his body failed to erupt, and his body lurched backward in an extremely disheveled and twisted posture—"Iron Bridge"!

The gust of wind from the scabbard swept sharply past his chest, stinging his skin.

"Sister Bao'er! The script! The script!"

Zhang Chulan screamed inwardly, his back instantly soaked with cold sweat.

He spun around and landed awkwardly, pebbles flying everywhere. As soon as he stood still, Feng Baobao's cold blade followed him like a shadow once again! She seemed to be completely immersed in executing the command to "lose beautifully," her movements as swift as lightning, her blade flashing like a net, each strike carrying a deadly sense that made Zhang Chulan's hair stand on end.

The absolute speed and tricky angles forced Zhang Chulan to unleash the Golden Light Mantra to its fullest extent, forming a thin golden halo on his body. Like a ping-pong ball being whipped by a berserk player, he was in a sorry state, struggling to stay afloat, tumbling and jumping around. Every dodge was extremely dangerous, eliciting suppressed gasps from the sidelines.

Taking advantage of a brief moment when Zhang Chulan was tumbling around awkwardly, two thin white arcs of electricity suddenly shot out from his fingertips, like snakes spitting their tongues, swiftly heading towards Feng Baobao's wrist holding the knife!

This is the basic application of Yang Wu Lei. Zhang Chulan dared not use his full strength, only to force her away for a moment so that he could regroup and regain control of this out-of-control "performance".

However, just as those two tiny arcs of electricity were about to touch Feng Baobao's wrist skin—

"what--!"

A loud, dramatic scream, full of energy and even a touch of theatrical flair, suddenly burst from Feng Baobao's mouth!

The scream was extremely abrupt, creating an absurd contrast with her previous ghostly, silent attack.

What's even more astonishing is her actions.

It was as if she had been struck head-on by an invisible, giant iron hammer, and her body was violently and exaggeratedly sent flying backward!

With arms outstretched like a kite with a broken string, the Okamoto 0.01 flew out of his hand, drawing a bright silver arc in the air before crashing to the ground a few meters away.

Feng Baobao fell heavily to the ground, even deliberately rolling twice before stopping, raising a small cloud of dust.

She lay on the ground, her body convulsing violently several times, the convulsions so severe they resembled those of someone suffering from severe malaria.

Then, the spasms rapidly decreased in intensity, becoming weak and rhythmic, like a pre-programmed machine. She also struggled to roll over, lying face down, one arm awkwardly pressed under her body, while the other hand hung limply at her side, the fingertips trembling slightly.

The entire training ground fell into an eerie silence.

The wind seemed to have stopped.

Fallen leaves hang in mid-air.

In the audience, thousands of eyes, like searchlights, were fixed on the center of the arena—Zhang Chulan, panting heavily, and the "corpse" lying motionless on the ground.

One second... two seconds... three seconds... ten seconds.....

Rong Shan's lips twitched.

"Feng Baobao is incapacitated for ten seconds, Zhang Chulan wins!"

After saying that, Feng Baobao stood up abruptly and left.

........

"Hah..." An old man with a goatee gasped, his beard trembling. "This...this girl's movements...that swordsmanship...it was clearly a killing skill! How...how could she be beaten like this by two sparks as thin as hair?"

"This is a staged accident! This is absolutely a staged accident!" A burly man in a martial arts uniform slammed his fist on the table, his face flushed red, and roared as he pointed at the scene, "I've lived forty years and I've never seen anything so fake! That scream was even more fake than the opera singers at the entrance of our village! The way she flew out, the convulsions... oh my god! When she convulsed just now, her left leg shook five times and her right leg shook four times, and it was at a fucking uniform speed!"

"The Feng family brat was beaten to a pulp because he wasn't skilled enough! But this Zhang Chulan... what the hell is he playing at?!" A hot-tempered middle-aged woman jumped up, pointing in Zhang Chulan's direction and cursing, "Do they think we're all fools and blind? Who are they trying to fool with this kind of trick?!"

"Despicable! Shameless! Vulgar!" A young female supernatural being's voice shrill with anger. "To win, they've thrown away all shame! They can't even find a decent shill!"

"Zhang Chulan! Get off!"

"Trash! That was an unfair victory!"

"Where are the referees at Longhu Mountain? Are they blind? Why haven't they ruled him the loser yet?"

Anger, shouts, and scornful spitting filled the training ground like a flood bursting its banks!

Countless angry gazes, like tangible swords, pierced fiercely at the figure in the center of the arena.

Rotten vegetable leaves, pebbles, and even empty mineral water bottles began to rain down over the guardrail, crashing onto the stone slab at Zhang Chulan's feet with a crackling sound.

Zhang Chulan: "Wait, where did these vegetable leaves come from?"

Zhang Chulan stood there, head slightly lowered, his rapid breathing not yet fully calmed.

The foul language pelted him like a hailstorm, and the contemptuous and angry gazes seemed to pierce through him. A trickle of bright red blood slowly seeped from the corner of his mouth, carrying a metallic, rusty sweetness.

He raised his hand and, with the pad of his thumb, slowly and forcefully wiped away the glaring blood from the corner of his mouth. The movement carried a hint of ruthlessness, as if he were erasing not blood, but something far heavier.

Then, he raised his head.

There wasn't a trace of embarrassment, shame, or anger on his face. His gaze was as calm as the eye of a storm, piercing through the barrage of trash and the surging waves of insults, as if they weren't even cursing him.

Rong Shan stood in front of Zhang Chulan!

"What are you going to do!"

"Don't you know this is Longhu Mountain?!"

"Zhang Chulan's victory was somewhat suspicious!"

"But this is in accordance with the rules!"

"This is Feng Baobao automatically admitting defeat!"

"What's it to you!"

"Anyone who dares to speak disrespectfully towards Zhang Chulan in this match shall be expelled from the Luo Tian Grand Ceremony!"

"And also, pick up the trash you threw away!"

Zhang Chulan said to Rong Shan, "Thank you, Uncle Rong Shan."

Rong Shan snorted, "I'm not biased towards you, they just went too far. Besides, your victory was really ugly!"

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Chapter 83 Forget the fear, then let's do it again.

Finally, the list of the top eight was released.

Zhang Chulan, who can go anywhere.

Wudang, meaning king.

Wang family, Wang Bing.

The World Assembly, the Sandstorm Swallow.

Longhu Mountain, Zhang Lingyu.

The World Society is located deep in the forest.

In Northeast China, Deng Youfu...

Huo Dezong, Hu Bin.

The final match roster has been released.

Lin Shen vs. Wang Bing.

Zhang Chulan vs. Wang Ye.

Zhang Lingyu vs. Feng Shayan.

Deng Youfu vs. Hu Bin.

........

The first match tomorrow will be Lin Shen vs. Wang Bing.

It's hard to say; there might be no underhanded dealings at Longhushan.

It's also possible that they don't like Wang either.

As for the Wang family, Wang Bing was so frightened that he trembled in his blankets.

Previously at the Lu family compound, Lin Shen's trick of summoning heavenly lightning had really frightened Wang Bing quite a bit.

Human power is so insignificant in the face of heavenly lightning.

Just then, Wang Ai arrived at Wang Bing's room.

Wang Bing said, "Grandpa, I don't want to participate in the competition tomorrow."

Wang Ai shook her head and said, "No, if you don't participate in the competition, what will others think of our Wang family?"

"Are you saying our Wang family are cowards who gave up the war?"

Wang Bing said fearfully, "What should we do, sir? I'm terrified."

Wang Ai was silent for a moment, then said, "I have a way to make you forget your fear."

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