39: Chapter 39 A Slap That Astounded Everyone

The wind tore through the air.

Hou San's figure pulled a tattered black line across the special rubber arena. With his C-Rank Talent [Ghostly Shadow Steps] fully active, his entire being twisted like a specter, crossing a distance of seven meters in an instant.

The tip of the pitch-black Military Spike glinted with a faint blue toxic light, aimed directly at Lin Fan's left eye.

Exclamations from the stands didn't even have time to escape people's throats.

Su Qingxue stood up abruptly, her fingernails sinking deep into the backrest of the front row seat.

Too fast.

Wang Teng sat in the preparation area, the cruel sneer on his face just beginning to bloom.

Die.

Become blind, become a cripple, and then roll out of Jianghai City like a dead dog.

In the center of the arena.

Lin Fan still had both hands in his pockets, looking as if he were scared witless by this sudden killing move, not even blinking an eye.

"Die!"

The tyranny in Hou San's eyes almost overflowed; the poisonous spike was only three inches away from Lin Fan's cornea.

Three inches.

The boundary between life and death.

[Eye of True Sight], activate.

In this instant, the world lost its color, turning into a grayscale, slow-motion silent film.

The Military Spike, which had been as fast as lightning, was now as slow as a snail struggling in syrup in Lin Fan's eyes.

He could even clearly see the grease seeping from every pore on Hou San's face, the remnant of a vegetable leaf stuck between his teeth, and the victor's ecstasy reflected in those cloudy eyeballs.

"Too slow."

Lin Fan's heart remained calm; he even felt a bit like laughing.

This is a C-Rank speed talent?

In front of his S-Rank divine eyes that could see through all illusions, all the flashy movements were like a clumsy slow-motion replay. Nothing but flaws.

The left foot was unsteady; for the sake of pursuing ultimate speed, he had abandoned all defense.

He was nothing but a moving target.

Since this was a product demonstration, it had to be a bit simple and crude.

Lin Fan pulled his right hand out of his pocket.

The movement was very slow and casual, like shooing away an annoying fly.

But to the outside world, this hand appeared like an iron gate out of thin air.

A base punch force of 4021kg, combined with the muscular explosion of the A-Rank [Glazed Golden Body].

This slap didn't use any martial techniques.

It was a pure, brutal, and unreasonable venting of power.

*Slap!*

A crisp yet massive bang instantly drowned out the breathing of the fifty thousand people in the venue.

The Military Spike that was about to pierce the eyeball stopped dead in mid-air.

The cruel sneer on Hou San's face froze.

Immediately after, that thin face began to twist and deform. The cheekbones shattered instantly under the massive impact, and half of the facial skin shook violently like a wave.

There was no scream.

Because his vocal cords had been numbed by the shock at that moment.

Hou San was struck as if by the side of a heavy truck traveling at high speed, both feet instantly leaving the ground.

Spinning.

He was like an out-of-control top in the air, spinning a full three and a half times.

Several molars mixed with blood flew out like shotgun pellets, clattering as they hit the guardrail by the arena, making a crisp metallic sound.

*Boom!*

Hou San slammed heavily onto the ground, his body twitching twice before becoming completely still.

Half of his face was swollen like an over-fermented bun, purple and black, and the poison-dipped Emei Spike had flown off to who knows where.

Quiet.

A deathly silence.

The originally noisy stadium was now as quiet as a giant tomb.

Fifty thousand spectators remained with their mouths wide open, their eyeballs nearly popping out of their sockets.

What just happened?

There was no earth-shattering clash of energy, no dazzling exchange of moves.

Just a slap?

The cruel sneer on Wang Teng's face hung there stiffly, looking both ridiculous and laughable. The water bottle in his hand was crushed with a *crack*, water splashing all over his crotch, yet he was completely oblivious.

An instant kill.

The gold-medal thug with a C-Rank speed talent, whom he had spent ten million to hire, was crippled by a single slap just like that?

On the arena.

Lin Fan shook his hand, pulled out a wet wipe from his pocket, and slowly wiped his fingers as if he had just touched something filthy.

"This is the speed talent you guys praised to the heavens?"

Lin Fan casually threw the dirty wet wipe, the crumpled paper landing precisely on Hou San's swollen face.

He looked up, his gaze passing over the countless stunned people, accurately locking onto Wang Teng in the preparation area.

The corners of his mouth curled up, revealing a set of pearly white teeth.

"Young Master Wang, the quality of this product doesn't seem very good."

His voice spread through the venue via the loudspeakers, carrying undisguised mockery.

The whole place erupted.

"Holy crap! One slap?"

"That was a C-Rank speed talent! I couldn't even see a shadow of Hou San before he was sent flying!"

"What kind of power is this? Is this fat... Is this Lin Fan a human tyrannosaur?"

"The blind box, it must be his blind box."

Someone shouted.

Instantly, countless burning gazes focused on Lin Fan.

If Zhang Hao's victory earlier had an element of luck, then Lin Fan's slap was a crushing display of absolute strength.

Even the boss is this fierce, so can the things he sells be bad?

"Cheating, this is definitely cheating!"

Wang Teng jumped up suddenly, pointing at Lin Fan and roaring hysterically, "Referee, I want to report him! He must have taken banned drugs. How could an ordinary high schooler have such great power?"

He didn't believe it.

He wouldn't believe even if he were beaten to death that an F-Rank Trash's power could exceed 4000kg; that was the standard for a One-Star Martial Artist.

The referee frowned and walked onto the arena, holding a precision Psionic Detector.

"Contestant Lin Fan, please cooperate with the inspection."

Lin Fan shrugged and extended his arm with an indifferent expression.

*Beep.*

The device scanned his entire body.

A green light turned on.

[Psionic fluctuations are normal, no drug residue reaction.]

The mechanical electronic voice was like another loud slap, fiercely striking Wang Teng's face.

Wang Teng sat back down dejectedly, his face as pale as ash.

No drugs.

Then it was real.

The mud-legged commoner he once trampled under his feet truly possessed the strength to crush him.

"Announce it."

Lin Fan withdrew his hand and signaled to the referee, "I'm in a hurry; I still have to ship goods to my customers."

That nonchalant tone.

That attitude of treating the grand competition like child's play.

It was... simply cool as hell!

In the stands, stars appeared in the eyes of countless young girls.

"Lin Fan wins!"

The referee announced loudly.

Lin Fan turned around, not giving the Hou San on the ground another look, nor paying any mind to Wang Teng's murderous gaze.

He walked to the edge of the arena, faced the live camera, and straightened his collar.

"Hey there, folks."

The coldness on Lin Fan's face vanished instantly, replaced by that signature Shrewd Merchant smile. "That move just now is called the 'Flashy Technique Cure Palm.' Want the same power? Want to crush all techniques with pure strength?"

He pulled a black metal box from his pocket and waved it in front of the camera.

The entire audience was floored.

Is this a proper competition?

This is just a giant livestream sales event!

Su Qingxue sat in the stands, looking at the figure working hard to pitch products in front of the camera, and her tense body finally relaxed.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, but the corners of her mouth couldn't help but curl into a very faint arc.

"This money-grubber..."

...

Back in the preparation area.

Zhang Hao lunged forward with a look of worship, his gaze more affectionate than if he were looking at his own father.

"Godfather, please accept my bow! That slap just now was too cool; Hou San was spinning like an electric fan."

Lin Fan pushed away that mass of fat with disgust.

"Stay calm."

Lin Fan sat back in his chair and took a sip after unscrewing a water bottle. "It was just basic operation."

"Brother Fan, look at Wang Teng's face; it's turned green." Zhang Hao lowered his voice, pointing not far away with schadenfreude.

Wang Teng sat there, the air pressure around him frighteningly low.

The lackeys around him didn't even dare to breathe loudly.

"Let him turn green."

Lin Fan narrowed his eyes, but his mind was calculating something else.

That slap just now, while satisfying, had also exposed a portion of his strength.

A punch force of 4000kg was enough to attract the attention of those old foxes in the admissions offices.

But it wasn't enough.

If he wanted to take his business nationwide and obtain a true protective umbrella, he had to perform even more like a monster.