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."
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?!
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, Immortal Body, Transmigration, System, Progression Fantasy, Academy Setting, Third-Person Perspective. Alternate Title: Transmigrating into a High Martial World and Reading Live Comments. Bad news: I transmigrated. This is a terrifying high-martial world, and my original, pathetically weak body fell into a coma and never woke up. Good news: I got a Popularity Points system upon arrival. I can see live comments and even create an unkillable alternate identity. Starting out, the alternate identity has all stats at 1. The system tells me that to grow stronger, I must participate in the plot, gain popularity points to allocate stats and grow stronger, and ultimately awaken my original body. And so, carrying my original body on my back, I officially entered Huaqing Academy, where the story's protagonist resides. From that moment on, Chen Guan kicked the original plot to pieces. Live Comments: [Doesn't anyone find this mysterious coffin guy creepy? He can summon indescribable grey misty hands.] [Is this guy a hero or a villain? What kind of onion became a spirit?] [By the way, does anyone know who's in the coffin? Shouldn't the debt for saving his life be repaid by now?] [According to unofficial histories, the person in the coffin was Chen Guan's first love. Their love was once passionate and earth-shattering, but they were separated by life and death due to worldly circumstances. What a star-crossed pair.] ... Years later, the world knew of a demon god born from a coffin, shrouded in grey mist, impossible to gaze upon directly. His foremost divine emissary often wielded a scythe, reaping lives like the god of death. As war approached, facing former friends and a boundless sea of enemies, Chen Guan merely raised his scythe. "Would you like to dance as well?"
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
