46: Chapter 46 Sorry, I have dual talents

"Die!"

Wang Teng's roar tore through the air.

The huge mutated claw held a heavy war blade snatched on the fly, shrouded in black Abyss Mist, and chopped down from above.

It was heavy and powerful.

This "Mountain Splitting Slash" had no technique, only pure power and destruction. The air was compressed, letting out a piercing explosion, and the gravel on the stage was swept up by the wind pressure, instantly turning into powder.

The whole crowd gasped.

The power of this strike was infinitely close to the full-force blow of a Two-Star Martial Artist.

No one thought Lin Fan could block it.

Dodge.

He had to dodge.

However, the figure in the center of the stage remained motionless.

Lin Fan did not retreat.

He didn't even blink.

At the moment the blade was about to touch the tips of his hair, he moved.

It wasn't an evasion.

He raised his right hand.

With fingers spread, dark golden light surged wildly beneath his skin. The A-Rank [Glazed Golden Body] was pushed to its limit, making his entire palm look as if it were cast from the hardest divine iron.

"Clang!"

A massive explosion rang out.

Sparks flew everywhere.

A huge shockwave spread from the two of them as the center, and dust rose.

The scene froze.

Wang Teng maintained his chopping posture. On his hideous, twisted face, the frantic killing intent instantly froze, replaced by a look of incomprehensible bewilderment.

The blade stopped.

Just three inches above Lin Fan's head.

It was firmly caught by that seemingly slender and fair palm.

He was completely unharmed.

Not even a layer of skin was scratched.

"This... how is this possible?!"

At the commentary booth, the microphone in the guest's hand fell to the ground, making a piercing static sound.

The stadium of fifty thousand people was as silent as a grave.

Catching a blade with bare hands?

And catching the full-force blow of a Quasi-Martial Artist in an Abyss Mutation state after taking drugs?

Is this something an F-Rank Talent can do?

On the stage.

Lin Fan's fingers exerted a slight force, his knuckles tightening on the blade, making a "creak" sound.

He looked up.

His gaze pierced through the swirling black mist, staring directly into Wang Teng's pitch-black eyes.

"Nice strength."

Lin Fan's voice was steady, even carrying a hint of appraisal. "Unfortunately, your technique is too crude. Is this your limit?"

Wang Teng's body was trembling.

Not from fear, but from muscle spasms caused by excessive exertion.

He tried desperately to push the blade down or pull it back.

It didn't budge.

The blade seemed to be welded into Lin Fan's hand.

"Roar!"

Wang Teng let out an unwilling roar. The black veins on his arms were almost bursting, and abyss energy poured out frantically, trying to break through Lin Fan's defense.

"Are you done hitting me?"

Lin Fan's tone suddenly turned cold.

In his originally calm eyes, something seemed to be ignited.

"Now, it's my turn."

Boom!

A terrifying aura erupted from within Lin Fan without reservation.

No longer hiding.

No longer suppressing.

It was the aura of a formal Martial Artist.

His blood surged like a dragon, and his essence rose like a pillar of smoke into the sky.

But this aura was much more solid and pure than an ordinary One-Star Martial Artist. If Wang Teng's aura was a chaotic and violent flood, Lin Fan's aura was a majestic and immovable mountain.

One-Star Martial Artist.

"Martial Artist... You're a Martial Artist too?!"

Wang Teng's eyes almost bulged out, the muscles at the corners of his eyes twitching frantically, as his sanity completely collapsed at this moment.

Impossible.

Absolutely impossible.

He, Wang Teng, the young master of the Wang family, with a B-Rank Talent, had various resources piled up since childhood and even swallowed forbidden drugs at the cost of his life to barely reach the threshold of a Martial Artist.

Why should this trash who runs a street stall deserve this?

How could a piece of garbage with an F-Rank Talent reach this step?

"Fake, it's all fake."

Wang Teng roared hysterically, letting go of the blade handle as his fingers turned into claws, lunging like a madman at Lin Fan's throat, "Die for me!"

Lin Fan didn't move.

He simply released the fingers holding the blade.

"Whoosh."

A cluster of flames suddenly sprang up from his palm.

Not ordinary orange-red flames.

They were golden.

A pure, dazzling, red-gold color that seemed capable of burning everything.

S-Rank Talent, Divine Ember Flame.

This was the first time Lin Fan had revealed his second trump card in public.

"Boom!"

The flames surged with the wind.

In the blink of an eye, Lin Fan was enveloped in red-gold flames, looking like a flame war god stepping out of myth.

The terrifying high temperature instantly distorted the air.

The specially made floor on the stage began to soften and char.

"That's..."

In the preparation area, Su Qingxue stood up abruptly, her beautiful eyes filled with disbelief. "Dual Talents? And it's... a Supreme Fire-attribute Talent?"

The Ice-attribute Spiritual Power in her body was trembling.

It was an instinctive fear of an inferior toward a superior.

On the stage.

Wang Teng's lunging claws were forced to stop half a meter away from Lin Fan by the terrifying heat.

When the black Abyss Mist met the golden flames, it was like snow meeting boiling oil.

"Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle!"

A piercing sound of melting rang out.

"Ahhh!"

Wang Teng let out a shrill scream and jerked his hand back.

His fingertips were already charred. That indestructible abyss regeneration ability was completely useless in front of the [Divine Ember Flame].

"Too weak."

Lin Fan took a step forward.

The flames in his hand spread, instantly swallowing the fallen alloy war blade.

A weapon forged from C-Rank High Carbon Alloy was enough to withstand the blast of a high-explosive grenade.

But now.

In the golden flames, it turned red and softened at a visible rate.

In just two seconds.

"Drip."

A drop of molten iron fell to the ground, burning through the floor.

The war blade had melted.

Seeing this, Wang Teng's body retreated uncontrollably.

Fear.

Fear from the depths of his soul finally overwhelmed the madness brought by the drugs.

This wasn't a fight at all.

This was a crushing defeat.

It was a dimensional strike from a god against a mortal.

"You... what kind of monster are you?"

Wang Teng trembled, his voice carrying a sob.

"Who I am doesn't matter."

Lin Fan walked through the distorted air to stand before Wang Teng.

The flames danced joyfully around him, yet they didn't harm him in the slightest.

He looked at Wang Teng as if looking at a defective product.

"What matters is that your time is up."

Lin Fan raised his right hand.

He clenched his fist.

The flames instantly retracted, all compressed into that fist.

No fancy moves.

No complex battle techniques.

Just a simple straight punch.

"Boom!"

The punch was thrown.

A sonic boom cloud exploded at the fist's edge.

Wang Teng tried to block, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

But in the face of that power, which was enough to destroy mountains and break peaks, his defense was as fragile as a thin sheet of paper.

"Crack!"

The bones in both his arms shattered instantly.

The punch's momentum didn't decrease as it slammed heavily into Wang Teng's chest.

The clothes on Wang Teng's back instantly burst open.

He felt like he had been hit head-on by a high-speed heavy train.

Before he could even scream, his body turned into a cannonball and flew backward.

"Thud."

A loud bang shook the entire venue.

Wang Teng smashed hard into the energy shield at the edge of the stage.

The incredibly tough energy shield, said to be able to withstand the attack of a Martial Master, was actually smashed into a human-shaped dent, its surface covered in spiderweb-like cracks, flashing red alarm lights violently.

Wang Teng was like a hanging painting, stuck to the shield.

His chest was sunken, and he was bleeding from his seven orifices.

The abyss black energy on his body was completely dispersed by the [Divine Ember Flame] contained in that punch, and he was constantly emitting black smoke with a foul stench.

"Slap."

A few seconds later.

Wang Teng's body slowly slid down from the shield, slumping on the ground like a pile of mud, completely losing consciousness.

Silence.

The whole venue fell into a deathly silence once again.

Everyone's mouth was wide open, staring blankly at the youth in the center of the stage who still maintained his punching posture.

One punch.

An instant kill.

The Abyss-mutated Wang Teng couldn't even withstand one move.

Lin Fan slowly withdrew his fist.

The flames on his body gradually died out, leaving only a wisp of blue smoke.

He tidied his somewhat messy cuffs, then turned around to face the dumbfounded referee.

The cold killing intent on his face instantly vanished, replaced by that signature, harmless smile.

"Referee teacher."

Lin Fan pointed at the "pile of mud" on the ground.

"Shouldn't this non-compliant product be cleaned up?"

The referee swallowed hard, looking at Lin Fan as if looking at an ancient ferocious beast in human skin.

He tremblingly raised his hand.

"The... the final, Lin Fan wins!"

"The champion of this year's Martial Arts Grand Competition, Lin Fan!"

The cheers were three seconds late.

Then, like a volcanic eruption, they lifted the roof of the stadium.

"Lin Fan! Lin Fan! Lin Fan!"

Countless people roared his name.

In the corner.

Zhang Hao sat in his wheelchair, crying like a two-hundred-pound child, with snot bubbles popping out.

"He won... Brother Fan won!"

Su Qingxue stood in the crowd, looking at the figure bathed in the spotlight.

"This guy..."

Inside the VIP box.

The teacup in Wang Tianba's hand was crushed once again.

Tea mixed with blood flowed down.

He stared fixedly at Lin Fan, the venom in his eyes almost solidifying.

"Good, very good."

"Lin Fan, this isn't over."

Wang Tianba turned and left, completely uncaring about the slain Wang Teng.

On the stage.

Lin Fan ignored the surrounding cheers.

His gaze passed through the crowd and landed on Wang Tianba's departing back.

He gently rubbed his fingers.

Lin Fan smiled.

"This wave of advertising was worth it."

He pulled a black metal box from his pocket, held it high, and aimed it at the live broadcast camera.

The scene froze at this moment.

The youth stood under the spotlight, with the loser's remains at his feet, holding high that black square box that would change the world, his eyes filled with ambition and fervor.

"Want to become stronger?"

"The blind box is waiting for you."