85: Chapter 85 Close-quarters Combat, Eight Extremes Mountain Collapse

Boom!

A dull thud echoed throughout the arena.

It didn't sound like fists hitting flesh, but rather like two massive sledgehammers slamming into each other.

A visible ripple of Qi exploded from where their fists met, causing the dust-proof shields around the ring to shudder violently.

The audience in the front rows felt their eardrums bulge, and even their popcorn buckets trembled from the shockwave.

In the center of the ring, the two figures stood in a brief stalemate.

Crack.

The specially reinforced alloy floor beneath Lei Meng's feet gave way first, spiderwebbing with fine cracks.

His face, usually etched with arrogance, twisted slightly, and his eye twitched.

Pain.

Heart-piercing pain.

Lei Meng felt as if his punch hadn't landed on a person, but had smashed into a solid slab of super-alloy steel.

The recoil from his gauntlets traveled up his arm bones, numbing half his body, while his shoulder joints emitted an unbearable creaking sound.

"Hmm?"

A muffled grunt escaped Lei Meng's throat as his feet slid uncontrollably backward two steps, leaving deep white gouges in the ground with every step.

Looking at his opponent, Lin Qi had only retreated half a step.

He shook his right hand, showing no sign of pain, but rather a look of satisfaction.

"The potency of that medicine is truly something."

Lin Qi muttered to himself.

Although that pot of "Diamond Bone-Tempering Soup" Old Mo had given him made him want to die while it was brewing, the hardness of his bones was definitely worth the suffering.

The entire arena was in an uproar.

"Am I seeing things?"

Someone rubbed their eyes and pointed at the replay on the giant screen, "Lei Meng's Strength attribute is over three hundred, and he used his skill to clash head-on, yet he still lost by half a move?"

"Is that kid's hand made of iron?"

"What iron? That's diamond!"

Up in the stands, Zhang Wei was grinning from ear to ear, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Did you see that! That's technique! That's called Hard Qigong! You data-obsessed nerds wouldn't understand!"

On the ring, Lei Meng heard the discussion below and his face turned the color of pig's liver.

He couldn't accept it.

He had an S-rank Strength Talent and was a natural-born warrior; how could he possibly lose in strength to a Blank Slate without a class panel?

"Coincidence... it must be a coincidence!"

Lei Meng roared, the muscles on his arms bulging once more until his combat suit tore.

Hum!

The red light on his alloy gauntlets reached its peak, emitting a piercing buzzing sound.

"I don't believe your bones are actually that hard! Shatter!"

Class Ultimate: [Berserk · Chain Burst Punches].

Lei Meng had completely lost it.

Ignoring the numbness in his arms, he unleashed his fists like raindrops.

Every punch carried a sonic boom; the air was filled with crackling explosions, and the dense flurry of punches blocked all of Lin Qi's escape routes.

This was pure firepower coverage.

If a normal person took even one hit, their internal organs would be shattered.

Lin Qi didn't retreat, but he didn't block head-on again either.

Testing a head-on clash once was enough to check the goods; doing it again would be stupid.

His footwork changed.

His feet glided across the ground, moving in an extremely peculiar pattern.

Yu Step.

A footwork technique used by Daoist practitioners in his past life to walk the stars and fight the constellations, it had evolved into a divine skill for close-quarters grappling in martial arts.

Lin Qi's figure wove through the dense fist wind like a leaf swaying in a storm, yet not a single drop of rain touched him.

Slap.

Slap.

Slap.

Lin Qi blocked continuously with both hands.

But he wasn't resisting head-on; every time Lei Meng's force passed its peak and his old strength was fading, he would lightly tap or push against Lei Meng's wrist or elbow.

Using four ounces to deflect a thousand pounds.

The more Lei Meng fought, the more uncomfortable he felt.

It felt like throwing a full-force punch into a mud pit; he couldn't use his strength, and instead ended up feeling stifled and breathless.

"What are you running for! If you've got guts, trade punches with me!"

Lei Meng roared, his movements becoming wider and his openings more frequent.

Anger can increase one's strength, but it can also short-circuit one's brain.

Old Mo squinted from below the ring, unscrewed his thermos, and took a sip of goji berry water.

"Idiot."

Old Mo gave his assessment, "His stance is unstable, his center of gravity is entirely in his hands; this only works against those stationary mages. Against a real martial artist, he's just a living target."

On the ring, Lin Qi's eyes suddenly narrowed.

It was time.

Lei Meng swung a heavy, powerful hook that missed, and the massive momentum carried his upper body tilting to the left, exposing an opening under his right ribs large enough to fit an ox.

This stiffness lasted only a fraction of a second.

But to Lin Qi, it was as slow as slow-motion playback.

"Pardon me."

Lin Qi shifted his feet, stopped retreating, and instead lunged forward with a fierce step.

This step was as fast as lightning.

He moved directly into Lei Meng's guard.

Their bodies were almost pressed against each other.

Lei Meng's pupils constricted sharply; he saw the cold light in Lin Qi's eyes, the look of a hunter watching prey fall into a trap.

Oh no!

He instinctively tried to pull back his arms to defend, but it was too late.

Lin Qi's spine—his Dragon—shook violently, and his entire body's force was highly concentrated in that moment.

Force from the heels, power through the knees, knees driving the hips, hips urging the waist, waist leading the back.

His whole body was like a fully drawn bow, snapping open in an instant.

Baji · Mountain-Leaning Strike!

Boom!

Lin Qi's shoulder, carrying the weight and explosive power of his entire body, slammed fiercely into the Tanzhong Acupoint on Lei Meng's chest.

There were no flashy light effects.

Only the purest conversion of physical kinetic energy.

In that instant, Lei Meng felt as if he had been hit head-on by a high-speed train.

Crack.

The sound of his sternum shattering was clearly audible.

"Pfft!"

Lei Meng spat out a mist of blood, his massive, two-meter-tall frame actually left the ground, and he flew backward like a broken sack.

He traced a miserable parabola through the air, flying over ten meters away.

Clang!

A loud crash.

Lei Meng slammed heavily into the alloy railing at the edge of the ring.

The wrist-thick steel pipe railing was bent directly to ninety degrees, emitting a teeth-gritting sound of twisting metal.

Lei Meng slid to the ground, his body curled up like a shrimp.

He opened his mouth wide, trying to breathe, but could only emit a wheezing, bellows-like sound; the excruciating pain in his chest made him unable to even catch his breath.

The entire arena was silent.

The S-rank warrior who had been clamoring to crush Lin Qi's bones just moments ago was now lying on the ground, twitching like a dead dog.

The referee rushed onto the ring, scanning Lei Meng with the detector in his hand.

Beep, beep, beep!

The red light flashed frantically.

"Heart rate arrhythmia, three fractured ribs, pulmonary contusion... this is a severe internal concussion injury!"

The referee gasped and looked up at the young man standing in the center of the ring, adjusting his collar.

What a ruthless technique.

It looked like just a simple bump on the surface, but all the force had penetrated inside.

If it had been any heavier, Lei Meng's heart might have been stopped by the shock.

The arena remained silent for a full three seconds.

It wasn't until the medical team's stretcher hit the railing with a clang that everyone was jolted back to their senses.

The referee swallowed hard and glanced at the detector in his hand; the data on it was blindingly red.

"The winner is No. 07-44, Lin Qi!"