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墨書 Inktalez
Due to the two withdrawals, the distance of my strikes had decreased significantly, and this time, the force was not very strong. The look of pain on the Fat Guy's face flashed briefly.
I won!
The whistle blew immediately, signaling my victory once again. Next time, I would have to face Shen Han. I exhaled lightly, realizing how much my attitude towards Shen Han had changed; it surely wasn't just sympathy, was it?
At that moment, I sensed a brief silence from the crowd outside, followed by a buzz of conversation. I knew they were discussing me, the lucky one who had avoided facing Qin Sihu this time. I couldn't help but smile wryly as I retracted my stick and glanced towards where Jing was standing, only to find her absent. She must have felt conflicted upon seeing me win; after all, I would be facing Shen Han next.
Turning to look at Shen Han outside the ring, I noticed he was watching me too. In his eyes, there was a glimmer of excitement; perhaps he didn't see me as merely a lucky person.
As I stepped off the field, Old Bi approached me. "So you really are facing Shen Han," he said. I chuckled, "Jing even asked me to let him win!"
Old Bi shook his head. "I think Jing trusts you a lot. In her eyes, you're the strongest. She probably pleaded with you to go easy on the weaker opponent out of sympathy. But since you’re so strong and refuse to back down, she might feel like you don’t care about her feelings at all, which is why she’s upset."
I raised an eyebrow in surprise and looked at Old Bi. "Since when did you become a female psychology analyst?"
Old Bi laughed. "I'm just guessing; it might not be right. Women’s hearts are deeper than the ocean. Someone with her personality likely has overflowing sympathy for the weak. If you end up getting beaten up by Shen Han and are left searching for your teeth on the ground, she’ll probably sympathize with you and hate Shen Han."
I patted Old Bi on the shoulder with a grin. "Forget it; I'd rather see Shen Han on the ground looking for his teeth. This morning we should check out Soaring Dragon; I've heard so much about him, and I'm really curious to see what he’s like."
Old Bi smiled back. "Well then, in the next match, Striking Group will feature Soaring Dragon."
At that moment, the preparation whistle for the next match sounded, signaling that the competitors were entering the arena.
Old Bi and I turned our attention to Striking Group's arena where two competitors were making their entrance—one was short and thin, looking even shorter than me, while the other was a muscular giant.
According to Old Ma, that skinny one is Soaring Dragon?
I could hardly believe my eyes; this was supposedly one of the most formidable experts known as Soaring Dragon from Five Tigers Shaking the Dragon? He certainly didn’t look like an extraordinary master.
Just then, Soaring Dragon faced us directly. I hurried to one side to find a better angle to see both competitors clearly and widened my eyes in anticipation, afraid of missing any detail.
The referee's whistle blew, and Soaring Dragon's opponent lunged forward like an eagle swooping down on its prey, almost completely enveloping Soaring Dragon.
In my view, winning against a stronger opponent is often a myth; once strength is clearly defined between two competitors, it’s hard to turn things around unless unexpected factors come into play. This principle holds true in all matters—even in international sports competitions.
The slender Soaring Dragon stood still, smiling at his opponent. With two steps, then one, the opponent's left hand moved to press against Soaring Dragon's right shoulder, while his right fist was drawn back, ready to strike.
At that moment, Soaring Dragon made his move. He slightly crouched down, and without much effort, he leaped into the air. His left foot landed on the muscular man's outstretched right thigh, propelling him even higher. In an instant of Kung Fu mastery, Soaring Dragon soared above the giant's head!
The giant reacted quickly; seeing his opponent leap up, he shouted and raised his left hand to guard his face while his right fist shot upward toward Soaring Dragon's abdomen. With Soaring Dragon suspended in mid-air, he couldn't use any leverage, making this a prime opportunity for a counterattack.
But as Soaring Dragon was airborne, he kicked out with his right leg, striking the giant's left shoulder. Using that momentum, he executed a graceful front flip in mid-air and effortlessly cleared the giant's head!
With a loud clap, Soaring Dragon inverted in the air, both hands slicing down onto either side of the giant's neck. The giant swayed and suddenly dropped to his knees, collapsing onto the ground.
A whistle blew! Instant kill!
It was terrifying! It resembled a perfectly choreographed scene from an action movie—smooth and fluid, with not a single unnecessary movement!
Years later, I would only see one person with such quick reflexes and fluid motions: Tony Jaa from the movies. However, some say Tony had trained in Taekwondo during college and had a background in Muay Thai as a facade. But Soaring Dragon's skills were truly impeccable!
Medical personnel rushed into the arena to check on the giant's condition. I knew that Soaring Dragon's strike must have landed on the carotid sinus of the giant. The carotid sinus is located at the upper margin of the thyroid cartilage and is rich in sensory nerve endings beneath its outer membrane. Pressure applied there could be life-threatening; Soaring Dragon must have controlled his strength well enough to only leave his opponent momentarily dazed.
Incredible! The crowd outside fell silent; I could hear whispers among several leaders at the VIP table.
Looking back at Soaring Dragon in the arena, after registering with the referee, he walked over to the side netting and pulled it aside before stepping directly into the Equipment Group's area.
A match from the Equipment Group had just concluded; the victor was basking in glory and expecting everyone's attention. However, all eyes were now on Soaring Dragon, forcing him to leave the stage in disappointment.
Soaring Dragon was about to continue with the equipment competition! I marveled internally. Old Ma used a baton; I wondered how formidable he truly was—this would be quite a spectacle.
The surroundings quickly calmed down as everyone focused on Soaring Dragon, who maintained his smiling demeanor while waiting quietly for his next opponent after checking in with the referee.
At that moment, all eyes shifted to another side—who would be unfortunate enough to face him in this round?
Under everyone's gaze, a tall figure dressed in athletic gear approached. To my surprise, he was wielding a curved knife—a Nepalese kukri knife with a black edge that appeared unsharpened. The blade was heavy at the front and light at the back, wide at the front and narrow at the rear, thick on top but thin on the edge. When swung or chopped, its power concentrated at the front of the blade gave it an axe-like lethality—perfect for close combat.
So there are those who play with this! It seemed everyone had their own passions; this event provided an opportunity for everyone to showcase what they loved and learned—truly a good thing.
The unfortunate fellow didn't show any signs of fear before the battle. Instead, after registering his identity, he stood on the other side, vigorously waving his curved blade, as if slicing through the air, producing a whistling sound.
On the other side, Soaring Dragon was empty-handed. Where was his baton? Why hadn't he taken it out?
As I pondered this, the whistle signaling the start of the match blew!
Without hesitation, the opponent charged at Soaring Dragon, swinging his curved blade with force. Soaring Dragon maintained a slight smile, only to reveal a short, thick stick from behind his waist, about the length of two fists combined.
At that moment, I saw the opponent already swinging the curved blade towards Soaring Dragon. The blade danced menacingly in the air, fierce and aggressive, closing in on Soaring Dragon within a step! With a swift motion, the blade came down diagonally from Soaring Dragon's upper left. This type of curved blade had the advantages of an axe and was perfect for chopping; one strike could sever an enemy's head. How would Soaring Dragon defend against it?
Swish! Clang! Two sounds echoed!
Soaring Dragon flicked his wrist upward to the left, and suddenly, that thick stick extended further. It didn't block the downward slash but instead struck hard against the side of the blade, redirecting its force.
Seizing the opportunity, Soaring Dragon shifted to his right, causing the curved blade to slice through empty air!
Before the opponent could retract his blade or change tactics, Soaring Dragon, while sidestepping, swung his right hand toward him. Whoosh! The stick in his hand extended again, now pressing against the opponent's throat!
The whistle blew again! Another instant kill!
The opponent's face turned pale as he stared in horror at the black baton pressed against his throat. He swallowed hard, letting his hand holding the curved blade drop to his side.
Incredible! These two rapid kills were less about showcasing skill for everyone to observe and more a declaration of his own strength. I felt I could no longer calmly watch this match; how vast was the gap? I couldn't tell.
After watching Striking Group compete, I thought that even if I couldn't defeat him, I could at least exchange a few moves. But after witnessing that second match, I suddenly felt that perhaps I would be lucky to land even one blow. It wasn't a sudden loss of confidence or self-deprecation; it was more about the overwhelming power he exuded that created an immense pressure—an intense pressure.
I glanced at Shen Han and Qin Sihu. Both stood frozen in place with furrowed brows, likely pondering how long they could last against Soaring Dragon if they faced him.
There was no point in watching the rest of the matches; Soaring Dragon was like a mountain standing tall. Feeling somewhat dejected, I picked up my Steel Rod, preparing to head outside to dismantle it and stow it in my bag while getting some fresh air. I wouldn't be able to leave in the afternoon since it was time for the loser's bracket matches, and I still had to accompany Old Bi.
Sighing, I exited the Venue and made my way to the nearby restroom. Finding an empty stall, I went in and took apart my Steel Rod, placing it into its bag before slinging it over my shoulder. Just as I was about to push open the door to leave, I heard a voice.
"Hey, Company Commander, it's me."
"That voice, wait, isn't it Shen Han's?"
"Yes, I'm in a competition. I'll go back as soon as it's over."
...
"What!? The order from the Vice Platoon has come down? Company Commander, didn't I report to you that I have to leave this year no matter what?"
...
"Then what does it mean to transfer me to the Vice Platoon now? Why wasn't I transferred before? Now that I'm about to leave, you adjust my position just to hold me back?"
...
"My mom is in very poor health and there's no one to take care of her. No way, I have to leave! If I can't go, then just follow the Conscription Soldier Retirement plan! You figure it out!"
(To be continued, more exciting content tomorrow!)
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