Thud!
Kang collapsed onto the stage, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.
Red Poison retracted his blood-dripping hand, licking his fingers with an unnaturally long tongue, savoring the metallic tang with a disturbingly pleased expression.
The audience below recoiled in disgust.
Horrified yet simultaneously revolted!
"Who else dares to challenge me?"
Red Poison calmly wiped the blood from his hands with his cloak, smiling as he scanned the crowd.
Silence.
When his sunken, ash-gray eyes locked onto anyone, their hearts would inexplicably shudder.
An indescribable terror gripped them.
Witnessing Kang’s kidney being torn out and crushed before their eyes, these people—unaccustomed to such brutality—were paralyzed with fear. Who would dare step forward now?
An Yi spoke grimly, "That... what’s-his-name... Feng. What’s this guy’s background?"
Ding Renfeng quickly replied, "An assassin from America. Mastered a lethal combat style. Rumors say he’s behind the ambushes and killings of Yunzhou City’s top fighters over the past month."
"Not from Xia Country, no wonder he’s so brazen," An Yi remarked, nodding.
Now he noticed—Red Poison’s hooked nose, deep-set eyes, slightly curled chestnut hair, and pale complexion clearly marked him as a foreigner.
"I’ve long heard that Xia Country is the land of ancient martial arts, teeming with masters! Yet now, not a single one of you has the guts to face me. Such a grand underground boxing arena, and not one real man among you?"
Red Poison continued his taunts, eyes brimming with mockery.
Several fighters in the rest area burned with anger, but the moment their gazes met Red Poison’s icy stare, they quickly lowered their heads.
Kang had been among their strongest. If he couldn’t last a single round, the rest would likely end up with their organs spilled.
The boxing ring crowd remained silent.
Many among them knew this man was Red Poison.
Countless martial artists had fallen to him—what chance did ordinary people have?
Ding Renfeng threw off his jacket, cursing. "Damn bastard! I’ll tear this piece of trash apart!"
Yao Ji immediately wrapped his arms around Ding Renfeng’s waist. "Brother Feng, think twice! Brother Long is already in a wheelchair. You can't afford to get hurt as well!"
"Yao Ji, let go of me!"
"No!"
An Yi waved a hand impatiently. "Stop arguing. Someone’s already going up."
At his words, Ding Renfeng and Yao Ji turned toward the arena.
There stood a pale-faced young man in a white martial arts uniform.
A boy indeed—barely fifteen or sixteen, his youthful face even younger than An Yi’s by three or four years.
Frail and sickly, he looked anything but threatening.
"What the hell? A kid? This is suicide!"
"Mocking him? Why don’t you go up instead?"
"Who the hell would? Getting beaten is one thing, but this psycho rips out kidneys!"
The underground boxing ring erupted into noise.
The crowd buzzed with discussion, none giving the boy a chance.
A few twisted spectators even eagerly anticipated the boy’s brutal beating.
Red Poison's bloody flair suited their dark tastes.
Red Poison glanced at the boy and sneered. "You? What’s your name?"
His eyes were sharp. The boy's steps were unsteady, his complexion weak—no sign of skill. A mere sickly boy.
Even an average kid his age could probably pummel him.
"Fang Jueming!"
The white-clad youth answered coldly, his soft voice laced with killing intent.
"Fang? Hah! I fought another Fang once—Fang Cunxing. Pathetic fool. I snapped his neck like a twig."
Red Poison licked his lips, reminiscing.
Fang Jueming’s voice hardened. "He was my father."
Red Poison’s grin widened. "Ah. So it’s revenge you’re after?"
Fang Jueming didn’t answer. His fists clenched, eyes bloodshot with hatred.
"Tch. Delusional. Come on, then!"
Red Poison’s laughter was grating, devoid of mercy.
He was an assassin. He didn’t spare children.
In the stands, An Yi’s expression turned odd.
With his Eye of Insight, he could see Fang Jueming's Fate Value: 80!
A staggering number. Most people averaged 60, 70 was rare, and those above 80 were few.
Could this kid be... another chosen one?
An Yi stroked his chin, deep in thought.
"Ha!"
Fang Jueming lunged.
His thin frame unleashed shocking force—a thunderous punch.
Red Poison sidestepped, catching it effortlessly, but his brow twitched. "Flash Fist! So you know it too!"
Blocked.
Fang Jueming didn’t falter.
A second punch followed instantly!
Red Poison raised his other arm, deflecting the blow.
The impact surprised him. This kid’s strength might rival his dead father’s!
He knew Flash Fist.
Three stacked strikes—each stronger than the last.
This boy’s fists carried real weight.
Fang Jueming’s third strike came without pause.
Red Poison smirked. Three punches? He’d seen this before. His father had exhausted himself on the third, leaving his neck exposed for the snap.
This time, he dodged instead of blocking.
But in that split second—
Fang Jueming’s fourth fist slammed into Red Poison’s gut!
Boom!
The impact echoed.
Red Poison staggered back several steps before steadying himself.
Unharmed!
Fang Jueming’s face paled.
"Pfft. That’s it?"
Red Poison adjusted his cloak, grinning. "I told you. Xia Country’s ancient martial arts are all flash, no substance! Your father died praising that garbage martial arts. Pathetic!"
"Don’t you dare insult him!"
Fang Jueming’s voice was ice, his body trembling with rage—a cornered beast.
Red Poison cackled. "That waste of a human had no talent, yet wasted his life on martial arts. That Flash Fist? A joke! Killing him was a mercy!"
Fang Jueming’s face flushed crimson, his entire being shaking.
His father, though untalented, had dedicated his life to the martial path. Flash Fist was their family’s legacy—his pride!
When Red Poison had mocked ancient martial arts, his father had challenged him.
Though he died, to Fang Jueming, he remained a hero.
Now, this monster spat on his memory.
Then—
A razor-sharp hand shot forward like a serpent, piercing Fang Jueming’s chest!
Red Poison stood before him, cold as ice.
He slowly withdrew his bloodied fingers.
"Like I said... trash will always be trash."
lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...
Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
