308: Chapter 305 I would call him the strongest

Bang! Bang! Bang!

An endless series of dull thuds echoed in everyone's ears. Through the close-up camera, everyone felt as if every collision between the two on stage was like a sledgehammer slamming into their chests.

That feeling was even more intense than the first few minutes of the heavyweight fighters going at it frantically.

It was like having the speed of a featherweight and the striking power of a heavyweight, yet their physiques allowed them to withstand each other's blows head-on.

"Withstand" isn't quite accurate; it's more like they are parrying and diffusing each other's force.

"This Peter Guo's understanding of Chinese Kung Fu seems a bit too deep, doesn't it?" Chen Youcai's mouth hung open. It wasn't until the two on stage had clashed through various styles and paused briefly that he finally gasped for air.

It was truly intense; this adrenaline-pumping sensation was addictive.

"It's more than just a deep understanding; he's learned some rare moves!" Zhang Zhao remarked with emotion.

He felt that if the opponent were to unleash his Swastika Hand in the next second, he wouldn't even be surprised.

"Hmm." Chen Youcai nodded, but then scoffed, "But honestly, this Peter Guo is really shameless. Spitting during a martial arts match? That's a trick used by ruffians from ages ago."

He had heard of such things before. It was said that in some martial arts sparring matches back in the day, anything went. It was fine in formal, large-scale events, but in smaller ones, throwing lime, spitting, grabbing the crotch, and poking eyes were common occurrences.

"Spitting? Do you believe he could kill you with a single loogie?" Zhang Zhao's expression was strange.

"Hey, Master Zhang, why are you insulting me!"

Old Chen's face flushed red upon hearing this. You can say my Kung Fu is poor, I'll admit that; it means I haven't learned it well enough.

But to say he could be killed by a glob of spit was more insulting than saying he was worse than a dog; it had escalated to a personal insult.

"What? You don't believe it? Forget about you; if I were hit by that thick phlegm, it would disfigure my face, blind my eyes, and rupture my throat."

Old Zhang paused, glanced at Old Chen's lower region, and smiled disdainfully, "If it hit there, it would be game over for your manhood."

"You! You... you you you!"

Old Chen's face turned deep red and his breathing became rapid. He pointed at Old Zhang, his finger trembling uncontrollably, looking as if he couldn't catch his breath.

Seeing this, Zhang Zhao stopped teasing him and said calmly, "This isn't ruffian Kung Fu; it's genuine Dark Jin. It's just one step away from the Hua Jin level where one can exhale to form an arrow."

"This spit is only possible when Dark Jin reaches an extremely high level of mastery; it can be considered a form of aerial Dark Jin. It allows the Dark Jin to condense within a glob of phlegm, staying concentrated without dispersing. Let alone flesh and blood, it could even dent a steel plate."

Upon hearing this, Old Chen immediately deflated like a punctured ball, his expression turning serious.

"It can do that? This guy must be spitting every day, right? He'd have to spit for over a decade to reach this level of mastery, wouldn't he?"

"Spitting for a decade? Your imagination is something else. Kung Fu is interconnected. Master Li could also achieve this level of power, but it's simply unrefined. This Peter Guo is rumored to have a screw loose. I guess he watched too many movies and figured out this pseudo-method himself."

"He probably watched too many films and came up with this semblance of a technique. But then again, in a sense, he is a Genius."

Zhang Zhao judged the matter, not the person; he was not stingy with praise for things he deemed useful.

"This match is interesting. One is comparable to a Xingyi and Baji Quan Great Master, and the other is a Great Master who uses every possible method, technique, and force—a master who stops at nothing."

"Interesting, very interesting! I feel like this Peter Guo has the shadow of the old Seniors from back in the day. What stands out is his slipperiness; he uses whatever is available and has endless tricks up his sleeve. Impressive!"

As he spoke, Zhang Zhao started to chuckle.

He had truly never seen such a slippery fighting style. Acupoint striking, finger techniques, Wudang Sword formulas, spitting like an arrow, bone-shrinking techniques—how the hell are these things normal people can use?

Thinking of this, while the two on stage were in a fierce battle and cautiously preparing for the next wave of attacks, he quickly picked up his tablet to check something.

He quickly opened several of Peter Guo's arena fights, skipping the process and dragging directly to the end of the videos.

Soon, he closed the tablet, his expression becoming even stranger.

"Master Zhang, that look on your face—could it be you've discovered something else?" Old Chen asked curiously. He had given up on trying to act cool; if he didn't understand, he asked.

"I feel like Master Li is going to capsize in the gutter. This Peter Guo is simply not a normal person. No wonder he's ranked first, and no wonder no one dares to challenge him."

Zhang Zhao's expression was very strange.

"What exactly did you see?"

Old Chen looked helpless. You bastard, you're still playing hard to get at a time like this.

"I can only say that this is just his standard playstyle." Zhang Zhao paused, remained silent for a long moment, and then sighed, "I, Zhang Zhao, would call him the strongest when it comes to being cunning and vicious!"

Upon hearing this, Old Chen couldn't hold it together anymore.

— —

"Master Li, nice technique! That Xingyi shoulder strike, hip strike, and butt strike rubbing against me—it felt so comfortable! But while the technique is wonderful, I'm naturally resistant to force; you aren't hitting hard enough!"

Peter Guo looked at Li Changsheng with a grin, his eyes gleaming. His chest heaved like a broken bellows, and faint steam was rising from his body. It was clear to see numerous bloodstains on his surface, as if he had been scraped by Iron Sand Palm.

Strangely, at this moment, his muscles began to ripple, and the old skin on the surface began to crack and peel away; the wounds had actually become much shallower.

Seeing this, Li Changsheng raised an eyebrow slightly, feeling both surprised and unsurprised.

As the saying goes, in practicing martial arts, one must first train the tendons, bones, and skin. Thus, the parts being trained will inevitably develop calluses and old skin. As one steps into Dark Jin, one can easily control the opening and closing of pores, allowing for even finer control over subtle force.

Metabolism also accelerates, and the regenerative effect of the skin and flesh is strengthened. Upon reaching the peak of Dark Jin, as long as one is not too old, one can quickly shed dead skin to reveal tender skin that is, however, even tougher.

Therefore, many Dark Jin masters often appear with a ruddy complexion and fine skin. Unless they practice certain hard Kung Fu, like Iron Sand Palm, their skin is quite soft and supple.

Li Changsheng could also do this. For example, the gunshot wound he had previously received had long since left no scars.

By controlling the opening and closing of his skin, time and time again, he could shed old skin, leaving no scars on the surface. It looked tender, but in reality, it became tougher with each cycle of expansion and contraction.

He had previously stumbled upon a Martial Master online named 'Old Urchin' who was the same. At the ripe old age of fifty-seven, his skin was as fine and tender as a young man's. If not for his graying hair, people would believe him to be in his forties.

And this person focused on Baji Quan, Xingyi, Chuo Jiao, and Great Vajra Hand. Every day on his livestream, he would split hard bricks and stones as thick as a calf with his bare hands.

Things that an ordinary person would need a large sledgehammer to break, this man could snap with a single palm. And his palms, except for the joints that were covered in calluses from frequent impact with bricks and stones, were incredibly soft and tender. It was the same principle.