“The Young Master can make that arrogant brat kneel down and eat his own teeth!”
“Three moves? Hahaha, you’re being too conservative.”
Zhao Tianxiong laughed heartily, taking a sip of blood tea.
“I bet one move.”
“Ze’er has a proud temperament. That commoner stealing his spotlight means he’ll go all out on the first move, cripple him on the spot.”
The private room was filled with lighthearted air.
But.
After letting out a few forced chuckles in agreement, the butler’s gaze once again fell on Su Yu in the arena.
For some reason.
When he looked into Su Yu’s eyes—deep, devoid of any emotion—a chill suddenly ran down the butler’s spine.
A suffocating sense of unease silently gripped his heart.
He couldn’t help but think of that missing martial artist.
Old Mo.
Three whole days and nights.
Old Mo had vanished into thin air.
His phone was unreachable, his men couldn’t find him, and even the underground gambling den he frequented had no trace of him.
Just two hours ago.
An investigator from the Jiangcheng City Security Bureau had even dropped by the Zhao residence.
Routine questioning about Old Mo’s whereabouts.
They said that at the western outskirts’ garbage dump, an extremely faint trace of human blood had been detected at the scene.
Though the butler had brushed it aside with a hefty bribe and the Zhao family’s connections.
By then, his back was already soaked with cold sweat.
Where had Old Mo gone?
He had gone to carry out the Young Master’s order—to break Su Yu’s legs.
And then.
Old Mo had disappeared.
Meanwhile, Su Yu stood unharmed on the college entrance exam arena.
And with a terrifying 10.4 Blood Qi value!
An absurd, horrifying speculation.
Like an ice-cold venomous snake, coiled tightly around the butler’s throat.
Refusing to let go.
“Could it be…”
The butler swallowed hard, his throat feeling dry and raw with pain.
“Could it be that Old Mo… didn’t just run off with the money?”
“But…”
“Was KILLED by Su Yu?!”
Boom!
The moment this thought surfaced, the butler felt his brain spin with dizziness.
Impossible!
Absolutely impossible!
The butler roared inwardly, frantically trying to crush this insane conjecture with reason.
Who was Old Mo?
A ruthless fighter with hundreds of underground black market brawls under his belt, his hands stained with blood!
A full-fledged martial artist with a Blood Qi value of 110!
Even if Su Yu had gotten unbelievably lucky and pushed his Blood Qi to 10.4.
Before a seasoned martial artist like Old Mo, with 110 Blood Qi, he was still no more than a slightly tougher ant!
How could he possibly counterattack?
What’s more, Old Mo had brought two underlings along!
Even if he couldn’t win, there should have been some commotion, right?
Not a single sign of a struggle at the scene—what did that mean?
If Su Yu was the culprit, it meant a complete one-sided slaughter!
A slaughter of a full-fledged martial artist?
The butler looked at the lean, young figure on the arena.
He’d rather believe the world would end tomorrow than believe an eighteen-year-old high schooler could pull that off.
“Delusion.”
“This has to be my imagination.”
The butler desperately comforted himself.
“Old Mo, that bastard, must have seen Su Yu’s sudden Blood Qi spike, figured the kid was trouble, and just took the twenty grand the Young Master gave him and ran!”
“Yeah! That’s the only explanation!”
The butler took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the fear in his heart.
Stay calm.
Won’t we know soon enough?
As long as the Young Master uses the “Shattering Rock Palm” on the stage to gauge this kid’s strength.
Everything will come to light.
A flashy upstart like him definitely can’t withstand the Young Master’s full-force strike!
...
At the center of the arena.
A military referee in a black uniform strode between the two.
His sharp eyes swept over Su Yu and Zhao Ze.
“Are the rules clear?”
“No-holds-barred combat.”
“The match ends immediately when either side falls unconscious or yells out surrender.”
“All hidden weapons, poisons, and illegal enhancers are strictly prohibited.”
The referee raised his right hand high.
“Ready—”
Zhao Ze’s legs immediately spread apart, lowering his center of gravity.
Boom!
A violent surge of Blood Qi, registering at 10.3, erupted from his body without restraint!
His pure white martial arts uniform fluttered to no wind, rustling loudly.
The muscles in his arms bulged instantly, veins protruding, faintly taking on a hard, rock-like luster.
Lower-tier Mystery Rank martial technique.
“Shattering Rock Palm”!
Stance activation!
Just this one stance made the air around the arena tremble with a heavy, oppressive roar.
Even the ordinary students in the stands felt a choking pressure closing in on them.
“Su Yu.”
Zhao Ze stared at his opponent twenty meters away.
The arrogance and cruelty on his face twisted into a vicious, murderous snarl.
In a voice only the two of them could hear, he gritted out icy words.
“You think that just because you rode some random stroke of luck to pile up Blood Qi to 10.4, you can step on me?”
“Today.”
“I’ll show you what real foundation means!”
“I’m going to shatter every bone in your body, piece by piece.”
Facing Zhao Ze’s murderous intent, which was nearly tangible.
Su Yu remained still.
He didn’t assume any defensive stance.
In fact, his hands were still in his pockets.
He looked at Zhao Ze, who was on high alert, fully releasing his Blood Qi.
In his deep eyes, there was no anger, no fear.
Only a pristine, pure look of pity—as if watching a fool.
“Are you done?”
Su Yu said flatly.
His voice wasn’t loud, yet it cut through the roar of Zhao Ze’s Blood Qi with perfect clarity.
“If you’re done with your last words.”
“Then we can start.”
That dismissive jab.
Shattered the menacing aura Zhao Ze had painstakingly built into pieces!
“YOU’RE ASKING FOR DEATH!!!”
Zhao Ze’s rage was finally unleashed.
Every shred of reason was consumed by a suffocating sense of humiliation.
Right then.
The referee’s raised hand dropped sharply!
“Begin!”
Boom!
The instant the command fell, the alloy floor beneath Zhao Ze’s feet let out an ear-splitting boom.
He shot forward like a cannonball, barreling toward Su Yu with savage, raging force!
Twenty meters of distance.
Closed in the blink of an eye!
“DIE!!!”
A beastly roar tore from Zhao Ze’s throat.
His right palm, glinting with a rock-like hue, was raised high.
The Blood Qi within was violently compressed at his palm, forming a white shockwave visible to the naked eye.
The terrifying power of a high-tier martial technique was on full display!
This strike.
Aimed straight at Su Yu’s chest!
If it connected, not even a ten-centimeter thick steel plate would hold—it would be instantly dented! Let alone a body of flesh and bone!
Up on the high platform.
Master Lei Potian’s eyes sharpened.
“That brat is going for a kill blow!”
Lei Potian immediately mobilized the 100,000 Blood Qi inside him, ready to forcefully intervene in the match to save Su Yu.
Because in his view, Su Yu simply couldn’t dodge this strike, let alone withstand it.
Inside the VIP private room.
A wide grin spread across Zhao Tianxiong’s face.
“It’s over.”
The butler also stared fiercely at the arena, his heartbeat racing to his throat.
But.
Just as Zhao Ze’s fatal palm was less than half a meter from Su Yu’s chest,
Su Yu finally moved.
He did not retreat.
He did not dodge.
He did not even pull his hands out of his trouser pockets.
He merely took an extremely casual step forward.
His mind stirred slightly.
In his body, the sealed checkpoint of qi and blood, firmly locked away by the Breath Concealment Art,
silently cracked open the tiniest of gaps.
Boom—!!!
ine. During your journey, you save an abandoned baby girl and become her elder brother】 【You rely on each other, becoming each other's support】 【At the end of the simulation, you shield the now-grown girl with your life, sacrificing yourself to block numerous demonic cultivators. You die, and the light in the girl's eyes fades】 …… 【Second Simulation: You are transported to a world where steam and magic coexist】 【You immerse yourself in the study of magic, obsessed with its research. One day, while out, you encounter a half-blooded demon girl wandering the streets. You take her in as your student】 【You teach the demoness what it means to be human, show her the beauty of the world, and nurture her into a miracle that surpasses even the gods】 【At the end of the simulation, you die of old age in front of the nearly immortal demoness due to your mortal lifespan】 …… One simulation after another, one encounter after another. Xu Xi suddenly felt something was off: "Wait, you said you're coming to the real world to find me?"
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
