31: Chapter 31 Military Region Competition

Zhao Tiehan leaned against the command table, his fingers tapping twice on the edge of the sand table.

"I will submit the registration form for Fortress No. 13 for you. At eight o'clock tomorrow morning, a military plane will head to the First Fortress; you will go with the main force. Remember, this trip represents the face of our Fortress No. 13."

Li Zhengyang folded the letter in half and tucked it into his pocket.

...

Early the next morning, on the tarmac.

A heavy military transport plane was parked there.

Besides Li Zhengyang, there were over a dozen elite veterans representing Fortress No. 13, and Commander was also among them, serving as the team leader.

"Zhengyang, get on the plane and sit here." Commander said with a beaming smile.

After experiencing the beast tide defense battle last night, Commander's attitude toward Li Zhengyang had shifted from a senior looking at a recruit to looking up to a living god.

The cabin was spacious and the seats were comfortable. Li Zhengyang picked a window seat and closed his eyes to rest.

The four-hour flight passed in the blink of an eye.

At two in the afternoon, the plane landed smoothly.

Compared to the remote Fortress No. 13, the First Fortress was a gigantic military fortress city.

Outside the tarmac, high-rise buildings stood in rows, and heavy armored vehicles shuttled along the wide lanes.

Commander led the group to the guesthouse to check in, but Li Zhengyang tossed his luggage aside, shouldered his dragon gall golden spear, and headed straight for the registration point at the central square.

The central square was bustling with people. With forty-two fortresses in the entire military region, plus the special operations units directly under the military, the number of participants exceeded two thousand. The minimum threshold here was also a high-grade Great Martial Master.

Li Zhengyang stood in line at the physical test registration area, with over a dozen people ahead of him.

While queuing, a commotion started in front.

"Get lost! Don't block Young Master Lin's path!"

Several young men in custom military uniforms pushed and shoved, forcing a gap through the queue.

The soldiers from other fortresses in front dared to be angry but dared not speak.

The local special recruits of the First Fortress had always been arrogant.

The leading young man was named Lin Feng, the son of the First Fortress's defense Commander and a half-step Martial Sect, as well as one of the seeded players.

He walked to the front of the queue and tapped on the registration desk.

"It's me, Lin Feng. Process my number first."

The tester apologized with a smile and quickly entered the information.

A follower behind Lin Feng turned to scan the queue and his gaze lingered on Li Zhengyang.

To be precise, it was fixed on the dragon gall golden spear on Li Zhengyang's back.

The dark gold luster emitted by the S-class alloy was extremely oppressive.

"Hey, kid." The follower pointed at Li Zhengyang, "Are you selling that spear on your back? Our Young Master Lin happens to need a heavy weapon."

Li Zhengyang ignored him and took a step forward, filling the gap in the queue.

"Are you deaf?" Feeling that he had lost face, the follower walked over quickly and reached out to grab the spear strap.

His hand was only halfway there.

Li Zhengyang lifted his leg and delivered a front kick.

It landed squarely on the abdomen.

The follower didn't even have time to scream; his body curled up like a shrimp, flew over ten meters away, and slammed solidly into the iron pillar at the registration desk, knocking him unconscious.

Lin Feng turned around, his face gloomy. "A country bumpkin from out of town, running to my territory to beat my dog?"

"If a dog blocks the road, it naturally has to be kicked away." Li Zhengyang looked straight at Lin Feng, his tone indifferent. "Since you, the master, didn't tie it up properly, I'll discipline it for you."

The people around the square all went silent.

Offending Lin Feng in the First Fortress was equivalent to asking for trouble.

Lin Feng's eyelids twitched, his half-step Martial Sect blood energy circulating wildly, and his palm covered with a layer of martial energy.

"You're courting death."

He lunged forward, his hand blade slicing straight at Li Zhengyang's throat.

The speed was extremely fast, accompanied by a piercing whistle as it broke through the air.

Li Zhengyang didn't even draw his spear.

He raised his right hand and flicked his finger.

The force-generating method of the Collapse Technique was concentrated at his fingertip.

One finger met the hand blade.

"Snap."

A crisp sound came from Lin Feng's wrist.

As the intense pain struck, Lin Feng retreated again and again, knocking over two testing machines, clutching his broken wrist while cold sweat broke out.

Seeing this, Li Zhengyang shook his head helplessly.

A half-step Martial Sect is, after all, not a Martial Sect. Within the same realm, I am invincible.

The whole scene was dead silent.

The tester's hand holding the scanner froze in mid-air.

Li Zhengyang pushed the registration form onto the desk. "Fortress No. 13, Li Zhengyang. Process the registration."

The tester stamped it with trembling hands and handed back the identity badge.

Li Zhengyang put away the badge, walked past Lin Feng, and headed toward the preliminary competition preparation area.

"Excuse me, passing through."

The crowd of onlookers involuntarily opened up a path.

The news that he had taken a blow from Lin Feng spread throughout the entire competition area.

Li Zhengyang didn't care at all.

The official competition was what mattered.

...

First Fortress, Combat Command Center.

On the holographic projection screen, the surveillance footage from the registration point was being played repeatedly.

The footage was slowed down eight times, clearly capturing Li Zhengyang's strike.

"Did you see it clearly?"

The speaker sat in the shadows, with three general stars on his shoulders flickering in the dim light.

He had a burly build, and even while sitting, he exuded an oppressive aura like an old lion.

Lin Zhenshan, the defense Commander of the First Fortress.

Beside him, several middle-aged men who looked like staff officers were pointing at data charts.

"Commander, the fluctuation of force at that moment is very strange." A major wearing glasses pulled up the blood energy value curve, "According to common sense, a blow from a half-step Martial Sect has its power dispersed at the edge of the palm. But that kid's finger compressed his entire body's blood energy into a single point; it was clearly a lethal strike."

"Nonsense." Lin Zhenshan snorted coldly, "I know what my son is like better than you do. Although he was piled with resources to reach half-step Martial Sect, that is still a half-step Martial Sect. But if that kid's finger had hit his forehead, Lin Feng would already be in an urn."

"Do you need to take care of the people from Fortress No. 13?" the staff officer asked tentatively.

Lin Zhenshan stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and overlooked the entire fortress city.

"Take care of them? The grand competition is about to start, and the whole military region is watching. If I move against him now, isn't it obviously telling others that I, Lin Zhenshan, can't afford to lose?" His eyes were gloomy, "Send Qi Tian from the second team. Tell him that if he meets this kid on the field, there's no need to hold back."

"Yes."

...

Inside the guesthouse room.

Li Zhengyang sat cross-legged on the bed. Although this was a military guesthouse, the specifications of the First Fortress were clearly more than a grade higher than those of Fortress No. 13.

The room was even equipped with aromatherapy specifically designed to assist with blood energy circulation.

He didn't light the incense; that kind of stuff that forcibly refreshes the mind through drugs was meaningless to him now.

He was reviewing the situation.

That finger just now used the basics of the Collapse Technique.

With the improvement of his physical fitness, his mastery of this force-generating method was becoming increasingly proficient, but in actual combat, when facing opponents in real life-and-death struggles, the other party wouldn't stand there stupidly like Lin Feng to receive the move.

"Still too slow; the Xuan-grade low-tier is still lacking." Li Zhengyang opened his eyes and muttered to himself.

A knock on the door sounded.

Commander pushed the door open and came in, carrying two meal boxes and a stack of documents in his hands.

"Zhengyang, come, come, eat." Commander put the meal boxes on the table, his tone complex, "I've inquired for you. In this grand competition, besides those local bullies from the First Fortress, there are a few tough nuts you need to pay attention to."

He spread out the documents.

"First, there is 'Blood Butcher' Zhang Kuang from the Second Fortress. This guy is a real lunatic who spends all year in the fallen zones. It is said that when he advanced to Martial Spirit, he slaughtered his way through a mutated wolf pack alone."

Li Zhengyang glanced at the photo. The man in the photo was covered in scars, and his eyes revealed an uncomfortable sense of bloodthirst.

"And this one, Ye Qing from the special operations brigade directly under the military, a woman. Don't underestimate her; she is an elite trained by the military, not only with high combat value but also proficient in various assassination techniques."

Commander introduced five or six key targets in one breath. All these people in the documents were Martial Spirits.

"Zhengyang, let me speak from the heart." Commander sat down and lit a cigarette for himself, "Your display today was indeed satisfying. But now you have become the target of public criticism. According to the news I received, several seeded players from various fortresses have declared that they want to pull out this nail of yours during the preliminary selection."

Li Zhengyang picked up a steamed bun and began to chew.

"If they want to pull it out, it depends on whether their teeth are hard enough."

"I knew you would say that." Commander gave a bitter smile, "Our Fortress No. 13 hasn't made it into the top ten for five years. Zhao Tiehan pushing you up this time is actually a gamble. If we win, our fortress's military funding and resources next year could double; if we lose, it will at most remain as it is now."

Li Zhengyang swallowed the food and looked up at Commander: "Then what if I take first place?"

Commander was stunned, not even noticing the cigarette ash falling onto his pant leg.

"First place? Zhengyang, just say that inside the room. That 'monster' is also competing this time; he is doing it for the guaranteed admission quota to the Capital Martial University. That guy..."

"We'll see." Li Zhengyang interrupted him and closed his eyes again.

For him, it didn't matter who the opponent was.

What he truly wanted was to improve his own strength.

...

Early the next morning, at the central gymnasium of the First Fortress.

This gigantic building, capable of accommodating one hundred thousand people, was packed to capacity at this moment.

The garrisons, military industry representatives, and observation groups alone filled the venue completely.

In the center of the gymnasium, fifty huge arenas were partitioned off.

"Two thousand three hundred participants; the first round will use a melee mode."

The huge broadcast sound echoed over the venue.

"Fifty people per arena, with a time limit of thirty minutes. The last five people remaining on the stage will advance to the next round."

Exclamations came from the audience seats.

Fifty choose five. A ninety percent elimination rate. This primitive and barbaric rule tested the participants' physical stamina and on-the-spot reactions to the extreme.

More importantly, in this kind of melee, forming cliques and ganging up on the strong were situations that would inevitably occur.

Li Zhengyang stood in the waiting area, dressed in a simple black training uniform.

The dragon gall golden spear was laid horizontally across his knees.

"Arena No. 9. Li Zhengyang, please enter the arena."

He stood up and walked with large strides toward the designated area.

Just as he reached the edge of the arena, the atmosphere around him became somewhat strange.

The surrounding participants cast sideways glances one after another, communicating in lowered voices.

"Is that him? The one who took a blow from Young Master Lin yesterday?"

"Other than being a bit handsome, he doesn't seem to be anything special."

"When we get on stage later, keep an eye on him, brothers. This kid is a troublemaker; let's pull the thorn out first, and then we'll decide the winner among ourselves."

Li Zhengyang's expression was calm.

With his five senses, he could hear these whispers clearly.

He vaulted onto the stage and stood in the very center of the arena.

This was a circular alloy platform with a diameter of fifty meters.

One after another, the other forty-nine contestants also jumped up.

Interestingly, after these forty-nine people got on stage, they actually formed a perfect ring.

Everyone, intentionally or unintentionally, had their backs to the edge, and their fronts, without exception, were all facing Li Zhengyang at the center of the circle.

"Oi, buddy."

A red-haired youth walked forward two steps with his neck tilted.

He was a contestant from the Sixth Fortress, a ninth-grade Great Martial Master.

"Don't blame everyone for targeting you. Who told you to be so flashy yesterday? On this arena, the survivors are the winners. People like you who want to show off usually die quickly."

Li Zhengyang lowered his head to adjust his gloves.

He ignored the other party's provocation and just lightly vibrated the spear shaft.

"Hum."

The dragon gall golden spear emitted a low tremor, its dark gold spear tip pointing straight at the ground, scratching out a faint spark.

"Too much nonsense."

Li Zhengyang looked up and scanned the circle.

In those deep eyes, there was no sign of panic; instead, they revealed a chilling coldness that made people tremble.

"If you want to come, do it together; I'm in a hurry."

The whole scene was silent for a moment.

Then, the red-haired youth laughed out of extreme anger: "Bold! Brothers, do it!"

Following this shout, the melee of fifty people skipped the probing stage directly.

Over forty powerful bursts of blood energy erupted instantly, and colorful martial energy enveloped the entire Arena No. 9.

The sounds of various cold weapons breaking through the air intertwined.

Commander, sitting on the rostrum, was so nervous that he crushed the water cup in his hand.

"These bastards, really shameless, to actually gang up on a recruit!"

However, the next second.

A dull, resounding boom echoed from the center of the arena.

It was not the sound of a collision, but the sonic boom of the air being crushed when the spear swung.

Li Zhengyang moved.

He did not retreat; instead, his figure moved like lightning, plunging directly into the crowd.

A cold glint arrived first, followed by the spear striking like a dragon.

In those dark gold afterimages, there were no fancy movements.

Lift, parry, thrust, slap.

Every move was surprisingly precise.

Before the red-haired youth's heavy sword could strike down, Li Zhengyang's figure had already pressed to the tip of his nose.

The spear shaft swept out with the force of ten thousand tons.

"Bang!"

The red-haired youth, along with his sword, flew out of the arena.

This spear strike opened the curtain.

On the audience seats, the officers who were originally talking about Lin Zhenshan's son now all slowly stood up.

In their eyes.

The youth holding the spear on Arena No. 9 had terrifyingly concise movements.

Every time he struck with his spear, someone would inevitably fall.

No matter how dense the sword lights and sword shadows were around him, he could always dodge through the gaps.

With a casual sweep, he could force his way through and shatter the defenses of several people.

This kind of dominance.

It didn't look like a recruit who had just joined the army at all.

"The grade of that movement technique is not high, but it reveals a hint of perfection."

On the main rostrum, an old general with white hair and beard narrowed his eyes, his tone revealing a hint of surprise.

"This kid's movement technique has already reached perfection. This is not something that can be achieved through hard training; this is an instinct crawled out from a pile of dead bodies."

Only five minutes passed.

The originally noisy Arena No. 9 went quiet.

On the floor, except for Li Zhengyang, only four people were still standing.

Those four people were now pressed against the very edge of the arena, gripping their weapons tightly, their foreheads covered in cold sweat.

They dared not move.

Because that man was standing in the center of the arena, his long spear carried on his shoulder.

The cracks on the ground radiated outward with him as the center of the circle.

"There are still thirty minutes left."

Li Zhengyang glanced at the large screen timer up high.

"Are you going to jump off yourselves, or should I send you off?"

The four of them looked at each other.

Without any hesitation, and not even daring to utter a harsh word, these four elite soldiers representing their respective fortresses threw away their weapons in unison and jumped off the arena.

They knew very well.

The five minutes just now were the opponent showing mercy.

Otherwise, those lying on the ground now would not be the wailing defeated soldiers, but cold corpses.

Arena No. 9.

The battle ended in less than six minutes.

Li Zhengyang became the first contestant to qualify among the fifty arenas in the entire gymnasium.

Carrying his spear, he walked slowly down from the stand under the dead-silent gaze of tens of thousands of people in the venue.

On the stands.

Those geniuses who considered themselves "seeded players" all opened their eyes at this moment.

That black silhouette.

Like an incomparably sharp iron nail, it pierced fiercely into everyone's line of sight.

The air, which was originally full of confidence in victory, suddenly had a hint of gunpowder smoke.

Li Zhengyang walked up to Commander.

Commander rubbed his eyes, his voice trembling: "Zhengyang, did you really not plan to leave me some heart medication?"

"I'm hungry."

Li Zhengyang slung his spear on his back, his expression as usual.

Under the tracking shots of countless cameras, he pushed open the door and walked out of the venue without looking back.

"Let's go, I haven't had breakfast yet."