390: Chapter 390 Yan Pojun's Enlightenment!

That was ten years ago.

Xu Biao was still a green, hot-headed newcomer back then.

Full of ambition, he had signed up for the challenge tournament.

The name of his opponent was Yan Pojun.

The opening whistle had just blown.

Xu Biao had just struck an incredibly flashy opening stance.

A fist, accompanied by the sound of a sonic boom, smashed directly into his face.

What followed was three full minutes of one-sided physical 'salvation'.

Xu Biao hadn't even seen what Yan Pojun looked like before he was bedridden in the hospital for half a month.

To be standing in the same camp as this Living Yama today...

Xu Biao felt a sense of absurd honor.

With hands on his hips, he sneered at Lin Yao across the glass.

"Dead girl, consider today your unlucky day!"

"To have God Yan personally send you back to your hometown, you've earned a place in history!"

A burly man with a mohawk leaned in next to him.

"Brother Biao, what's the situation?"

The burly man lowered his voice and pointed at Yan Pojun at the very front.

"Why is someone from the military coming down to play in a match like this?"

Xu Biao slapped the back of the man's head.

"You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask!"

Xu Biao's eyes widened.

"This is a gift from the heavens!"

Xu Biao began frantically brainwashing his subordinates around him.

"What are we here for today? We're here to witness history!"

"In a moment, everyone follow behind me. However God Yan moves, we move."

"If anyone dares to steal God Yan's spotlight, I'll be the first to cripple him!"

The burly man clutched his head and nodded repeatedly.

One hundred and forty big men had now completely become Yan Pojun's private cheerleading squad.

The four giant screens in the center of the Summit suddenly burst with blinding red light.

A deafening heavy metal intro crashed down.

The shouts of the hundred thousand spectators in the arena were instantly ignited.

The host stood on a high-altitude floating platform, holding a diamond-encrusted megaphone.

"Gentlemen! Ladies!"

"Welcome to the Organization!"

"Tonight, we shall witness history!"

The host shouted at the top of his lungs.

"This is a crazy night!"

"A mere eighteen-year-old newcomer has declared they will take on one hundred and forty-two veteran Martial Artists single-handedly!"

A thunderous wave of boos erupted in the arena.

Countless empty water bottles flew from the stands, bouncing off the protective shield.

"Look at these incredible odds!"

"0.01 to 99!"

"But even if you bet ten thousand yuan on this Little Girl, you wouldn't earn a single cent!"

"Because this is simply impossible!"

The host suddenly raised his volume, the veins on his neck bulging.

"That's not the point!"

"The point is, that man... he's back!"

The red light on the four giant screens shattered.

A fast-paced edited video played with a roar.

In the footage, Yan Pojun tore an A-rank beast apart with his bare hands.

Yan Pojun kicked a heavy-armored Professional flying.

Yan Pojun stood in a pool of blood, hands in his pockets, back to the explosive flames.

A set of giant gold-leafed numbers popped up in the center of the screen.

"Win Rate: 97%!"

"Consecutive Title Defenses: 365 matches!"

"He is the absolute undefeated legend of the Organization!"

"The Military's Blade! The God of Slaughter! Yan Pojun!"

"God Yan!"

"God Yan, I want to have your babies!"

"The God of Slaughter returns!"

The spectators in the stands fell into a complete frenzy.

Some tore their shirts to shreds.

Some waved giant flags printed with Yan Pojun's portrait.

The sound waves of the entire venue were enough to blow the roof off.

The gates of the waiting area below slowly opened.

A blinding spotlight instantly hit the exit.

One hundred and forty-one contestants automatically lined up in two rows.

Creating a wide passage.

Yan Pojun opened his eyes.

He set down the thermos in his hand.

He adjusted the straps of his tactical vest.

Taking a stride, he walked toward the passage.

The lights of the entire arena followed his footsteps.

With every step, the waves of cheers outside rose another notch.

Yan Pojun stepped out of the shadows of the passage and onto the special alloy floor of the arena.

He stopped.

He looked down.

In front of his toes, there was a slightly darker piece of stone slab.

It was a historical relic that had been specially preserved.

On the stone slab, there was a deep indentation.

It wasn't smashed out by a weapon.

It was from ten years ago, the first time Yan Pojun stood on this stage.

In his extreme arrogance, he had stomped it out with his combat boots.

For the sake of a gimmick, the Organization had specially sealed it in a layer of transparent resin and kept it until today; they had actually brought it out and placed it in the distance.

Yan Pojun stared at that footprint.

Memories from ten years ago instantly flooded his mind.

The him back then...

Had the word 'invincible' written all over him.

He saw everyone as trash.

He felt the entire world trembling beneath his feet.

Later, he went to the army.

He was pinned in the mud to eat dirt.

He was ground into the floor by the freaks of Fangs.

His sharp edges were worn down bit by bit.

He learned to keep a low profile.

He learned to hide his strength.

He learned to hold a thermos and drink goji berry water.

But now...

Standing amidst the cheers of these hundred thousand people...

Standing on this stage that once witnessed all his glory...

Yan Pojun felt something in his blood reviving.

Qin Zhan's words echoed in his ears.

Sever the past!

Don't enter Fangs with a tail!

The heart in Yan Pojun's chest gave a violent thud.

His blood flow instantly accelerated.

Yan Pojun lifted his right foot.

The metal heel of his combat boot flashed with a cold glint under the spotlight.

Bang!

He stomped heavily onto that resin-sealed footprint.

Fine cracks appeared on the resin surface.

Six years of forbearance.

Six years of military tempering.

In this moment, it all turned into fuel, igniting that long-suppressed arrogance.

To hell with keeping a low profile!

I'm here to wreck the place today!

I am still number one under heaven!

The aura on Yan Pojun's body changed abruptly.

The originally restrained and steady soldierly temperament instantly vanished.

An extremely violent and ferocious air exploded outward with him as the center.

The surrounding air underwent visible distortion due to the high pressure.

Xu Biao and the others following behind were forced back three steps by this wave of air.

Xu Biao's eyes went wide.

Looking at Yan Pojun's upright back...

This was a hundred times more terrifying than ten years ago!

In the center of the arena...

Yan Pojun stood at the central point where the spotlights were densest.

He completely ignored the commotion behind him and the noise opposite him.

The cheers of a hundred thousand people turned into a physical wave of sound.

Beating against his eardrums from every angle.

This was right.

This was the taste.

Yan Pojun straightened his back.

The blood in his chest boiled frantically.

Six years.

He had been an honest man in the military camp for six years.

Every day competing with those freaks in stamina, tactics, and folding blankets.

He had almost forgotten he was once a wild young master who walked with a swagger in Linzhou.

Commander-in-Chief Qin Zhan's words 'sever the past' were simply a golden rule.

If you want to let go completely, you have to hold the most magnificent retirement match.

To put a perfect period on his past self!

Yan Pojun raised his hand.

His fingers caught the Velcro of his tactical vest.

With a loud 'rip'...

The heavy military bulletproof vest was casually smashed onto the ground by him.

The hard floor was directly smashed into a pattern of cracks.

Solid muscular lines were completely exposed to the air.

The entire arena erupted in a hysterical scream once more.