Situation Reversed

Qiu Shan Island.

Fang Jueming was flung by Hongtian, crashing toward Metatron: "Move!"

"Hmph, just a wet-behind-the-ears brat."

Metatron stared at the overly youthful Fang Jueming, his gaze icy. A crossbow slid out from his sleeve, taking aim.

Whoosh!

An arrow shot silently toward Fang Jueming, its tip tinged with emerald green—clearly poisoned.

Fang Jueming's eyes sharpened.

"Playing dirty again, another dishonorable old man."

Then don’t blame me for being ruthless.

Clang!

Fang Jueming caught the arrow barehanded, sparks flying as it scraped against his gauntlet.

After suffering severe injuries from recklessly punching a meteor hammer last time, Fang Jueming had deeply reflected on his shortcomings.

Following a discussion with Axe-Fist Wu Tong, he received the generous support of a pair of exquisite ancestral gauntlets from the Hong Family Martial School in Yunzhou.

With these gauntlets, Fang Jueming was like a tiger with wings.

Catching an arrow mid-flight—this move genuinely stunned Metatron.

That reaction, that speed, that instinct… This kid was no ordinary opponent.

"Kamel, be careful. This brat isn’t weak—"

Metatron’s words froze mid-sentence.

Because he saw his partner’s scorching-hot figure sliced apart by the massive beast’s paw.

Metatron: "..."

Before he could even finish speaking, his partner was already gone?

"Tch, kid, you lied! Where’s the demon core?!"

Hongtian, furious after failing to find it, snarled.

A chill ran down Metatron’s spine as he stared at the enormous dog, terror seeping into his bones.

Kamel—a woman whose life was nothing short of legendary—had just been killed by a dog’s claw?

He hadn’t even seen how the fight unfolded.

"Old man, here’s a fist for you."

Fang Jueming gave a polite warning.

But Metatron was in no state to react, utterly stunned by Hongtian’s terrifying display.

If Kamel could be instantly killed, then he stood no chance either.

But if he was going to die, he’d drag someone down with him.

With that thought, Metatron slowly drew a dagger, his eyes turning vicious.

"Ghost Step!"

Fang Jueming’s figure blurred like a specter, appearing behind Metatron in an instant—his fist already in motion.

This was something his master had taught him.

Attacks from behind often yielded unexpected results.

"Die!"

Metatron twisted around, thrusting his eerie black dagger straight for Fang Jueming’s throat.

Fang Jueming didn’t dodge. Instead, he met the blade head-on with his fist.

The razor-sharp dagger sliced through his gauntlet—but not his skin.

Metatron’s expression twisted in disbelief.

These fists… were harder than tempered steel?

Fang Jueming glanced at his damaged gauntlet, wincing.

The headmaster had gone through so much trouble to—ahem—be gifted these.

Passive Skill: [Iron Fist].

This was the reward Fang Jueming had earned from the [Hundred Million Punches] system after endless training.

If he’d had Iron Fist during his fight with the hippo demon back then, it wouldn’t have been his knuckles that shattered—but the spiked club.

Clang!

Fang Jueming staggered back several steps, but his stance never wavered.

The second punch came in an instant.

Metatron’s face darkened. He clenched his own fist and met Fang Jueming’s blow head-on.

Clang!

In terms of raw power, Metatron far surpassed Fang Jueming.

But if Fang Jueming’s momentum kept building, the outcome would become unpredictable.

Hongtian glanced at the two locked in combat, deciding Fang Jueming might just survive. Then, with a flick of his tail, he turned his cruel grin toward the Heaven Organization’s assassins.

"Don’t just stand there. Get to work."

The assassins paled.

If Kamel—one of Heaven’s twelve leaders—had been slaughtered by this dog, what chance did they have?

Hongtian’s massive form radiated murderous intent like a demon from hell as he tore into the assassins.

The other warriors from the Underworld faction snapped out of their daze and joined the fray.

BOOM!

A thunderous shockwave erupted as Fang Jueming’s fist connected with Metatron.

"Sixth punch!"

Fang Jueming gasped, drenched in sweat, his body trembling.

Veins bulged along his arms, blood dripping from his knuckles.

On a nearby reef, Metatron’s aged body lay embedded in shattered stone—lifeless.

Hongtian smirked.

"Not bad. The kid’s getting stronger."

Bound on the ground, King of Equality was still baffled about where this man and dog had come from.

But one thing was clear—he was saved.

Fu Lu Island.

Raziel’s deranged expression grew colder.

His massive hammer swung toward King of Metropolis’ face.

But King of Metropolis was no pushover either. With veteran reflexes, he dodged and countered with a slash of his broadsword.

For a moment, the two were evenly matched.

Raziel’s face twisted further into madness.

"That bastard Shaliel was right… You’re not simple."

Earlier, Shaliel had wanted Kamel to accompany him.

But Raziel had arrogantly claimed he could crush King of Metropolis alone, forcing Kamel to go to Qiu Shan Island instead.

King of Metropolis said nothing, gripping his sword and shield tightly as he panted.

Though Raziel was stronger, his experience allowed him to drag the fight out until nightfall.

If he could hold out until reinforcements arrived, he’d win.

The stalemate continued.

Heaven and Underworld were deadlocked—neither side gaining ground.

Then, a small boat appeared on the horizon.

A young man rowed leisurely toward shore.

He was strikingly handsome, with a strip of black cloth tied over his eyes—clearly blind.

"Who the hell is this kid? Die!"

One of Heaven’s assassins stationed outside spotted him and lunged.

Before he could finish speaking, a crimson line split his face down the middle—and he collapsed.

Both Raziel and King of Metropolis were stunned.

Neither had seen how the blind youth had struck.

The blind man stepped ashore.

His pace was slow, but with every step, another assassin from Heaven fell.

One step. Two steps. Three steps. Four…

By the time he reached King of Metropolis, over twenty corpses littered the ground.

King of Metropolis’ hands trembled.

"Excuse me," the blind youth smiled warmly. "Who is Raziel?"

King of Metropolis pointed weakly. "H-Him…"

"Enough tricks!"

Raziel roared, swinging his hammer with hurricane force.

Sshhk!

A faint sound.

A flash of steel.

This time, King of Metropolis finally saw the blind man’s sword—hidden inside his cane.

Raziel’s hammer was cleanly bisected, his body severed at the waist.

The enhancement serum in his hand never had a chance to be injected.

King of Metropolis broke into a cold sweat.

"W-Who… are you?"

"Xiao Ye," the blind man replied casually. "Oh, right. I’m from the Asura Sect."

King of Metropolis’ face drained of color.

"Are all members of the Asura Sect this monstrous?!"

"I should go. I only took a day off from the shop—might not make it back in time."

Xiao Ye spoke indifferently, then left the shore as quietly as he had arrived, boarding a boat and departing without a sound.

The City King was left utterly stunned.

A helicopter roared overhead as it approached.

Gene the Mechanical Hand, Bob the Poison Master, and the other assassins of the Raksha Group descended.

"Good thing we didn’t confront the Asura Gate directly back then," one of the killers muttered, eyeing the corpses strewn across the ground with lingering fear.

Gene the Mechanical Hand stared at the lifeless body of Shaliel for a long moment before finally exhaling deeply. "As expected, none of them are ordinary. That Xiao Ye... he’s terrifying."

Watching the City King organizing the aftermath, Bob the Poison Master asked, "Should we head to Chunnan Island now?"

Gene frowned. "It’s too late. Even by plane, it’d take most of the day. No idea if the Boss has already gone there."

Meanwhile, An Yi was on his way, riding a dragon.