16: Chapter 16 Listen to advice and you'll have a full meal

But since one side was down and unable to rise, while the other was completely unharmed...

"Ahem!" The referee announced with a dark face, "The winner is Jiang You!"

Jiang You breathed a sigh of relief.

Although the victory was inexplicable, at least he could get off work.

He cupped his hands to the surrounding crowd with an expression of helplessness: "My apologies, my apologies. Well... since everyone thinks it was a fixed match, then let's just call it a fixed match. I'm going to go eat now."

After saying this, Jiang You strode away under the disdainful gazes of the entire crowd.

That relaxed demeanor of "I'm not pretending anymore; I'm just rich, and I just bribed my opponent" further confirmed everyone's suspicions.

On the judges' podium.

Only Professor Guijianchou adjusted his glasses, his eyes deep and thoughtful.

"A bunch of idiots."

"Can't they see that was the reactive force of a 'Power Through the Mountain' strike?"

"However... this kid actually went with the flow, using public opinion to hide his own strength? At such a young age, he is so calculating and knows how to hide his brilliance! This child has the bearing of a Great Emperor!"

The professor's imagination ran even wilder, and he looked at Jiang You's retreating figure with full admiration.

In the corner of the stands.

Lin Ya watched this farce with furrowed brows.

Her best friend beside her chimed in: "Xiao Ya, it seems your ex-boyfriend's character is really lacking. It's one thing to have no strength, but to actually pull a stunt like a fixed match. Wang Tong is the same, actually doing something like this for money."

Lin Ya pursed her lips.

Reason told her that her friend was right.

The scene just now completely defied common sense.

But her intuition made her feel that something was off.

Wang Tong's scream sounded a bit too miserable; it didn't seem like acting.

"Could it be that he really has some methods I can't see?"

Lin Ya shook her head, "Forget it. Relying on money or luck will never get you far."

That night.

The Zhao family mansion.

Patriarch Zhao looked at Wang Tong, who had been carried back with a truly comminuted fracture of his arm, his face so dark it could drip water.

"You mean... he just stood there without moving and crippled you with a shock?"

"And everyone outside is saying you took dirty money to stage a performance?"

Wang Tong knelt on the ground, crying: "Patriarch! I've been wronged! That kid is truly bizarre! He's as hard as a turtle shell!"

Patriarch Zhao took a deep breath, the murderous intent in his eyes no longer concealed.

"It seems this kid is indeed a bit demonic. Whether it's hard qigong or a defensive treasure, conventional means can't touch him."

"Since physical attacks are ineffective..."

"Then we will use something he cannot block."

Patriarch Zhao turned and walked into the depths of the secret chamber.

He turned and looked at a black metal canister with a skull symbol placed in the corner of the secret chamber.

That was a forbidden weapon he had spent a large sum of money to acquire from the black market: [Tier 3 Soul-Devouring Poison Gas].

"Tonight, I will turn that villa into a gas chamber."

"I don't believe his Lungs can be that hard too!"

Evening.

Zijin Villa, Villa No. 8.

Jiang You dragged his exhausted body (actually, he was just tired from sleeping) back home.

One has to admit, the happiness of the rich is just that simple and unadorned.

As soon as Jiang You entered the door, he didn't even take off his shoes. He lunged like a hungry dog, throwing himself into the huge leather sofa in the living room, sinking half his body into it.

"Comfortable..."

"Fighting is too tiring, and going to school is even more tiring. Lying down is what suits me best."

Jiang You casually turned on the TV, preparing to find a show to watch while eating.

Just then, the new phone on the coffee table suddenly vibrated.

It was a text message.

The sender was an unknown number, but the contact name was what Jiang You had just saved on a whim — [Wheelchair God of Racing].

Jiang You raised an eyebrow and opened the text.

[Wheelchair God of Racing (Zhao Tai): Jiang You, it's Zhao Tai. Although we have had conflicts, as a neighbor, I'm kindly reminding you. The property management just notified us that there will be large-scale pest control operations tonight, and the concentration of the sprayed chemicals is very high. Remember to close all windows tightly when you sleep tonight, and it's best to block the gaps. If you choke to death, don't blame me for not warning you.]

In the neighboring Villa No. 9.

After sending this text, Zhao Tai's hands were shaking.

He looked at his father, Patriarch Zhao, whose face was gloomy, and asked tremblingly: "Dad... is it okay to send this? Will he believe it?"

Patriarch Zhao sneered, toying with the switch of the deadly poison gas canister in his hand: "Truth and deception, all is fair in war. The more reluctant you appear, the more he will think you have been beaten into submission and are trying to make amends. As long as he closes the windows, this villa becomes a sealed room; even a god couldn't save him!"

Inside Villa No. 8.

Jiang You looked at the text message and rubbed his chin.

"Pest control? That makes sense. The greenery in this rich neighborhood is too good, there really are a lot of mosquitoes."

"I didn't expect that although Zhao Tai's character is bad and his Brain isn't very sharp, he's actually quite considerate as a neighbor!"

Jiang You thought for a moment and replied with two words: [Received.]

Then, he actually got up, walked with lazy steps, and closed all the windows from the first floor to the third floor of the villa tightly. Feeling it still wasn't enough, he even drew the curtains.

"Take advice, eat well. Time to sleep!"

Late at night.

The moon was dark and the wind was high.

Two dark figures crept like ghosts to the base of the wall of Villa No. 8.

They were the professional "cleaners" that Patriarch Zhao had spent a large sum of money to hire.

"This job is easy."

Cleaner A looked at the tightly closed windows and couldn't help but chuckle: "The target is very cooperative. The windows are closed so tightly that not even a fly could get in. This saves us the trouble of sealing them."

Cleaner B pulled a black metal canister with a skull symbol from his backpack — [Tier 3 Soul-Devouring Poison Gas].

"This thing is a deadly poison targeting Tier 3 martial artists. One canister costs five million on the black market. As long as the blood-qi value is below 40, one inhalation will cause the whole body to fester."

"Although I heard the target is a bit demonic, his file says he's only 0.8. Even if he took Viagra these past few days, at most he'd have 5 points of blood-qi. This poison gas is a dimension-reduction strike for him."

Hiss — The valve was unscrewed.

The gas delivery tube was inserted through the gap of the air conditioning unit.

Colorless, but sweet and fishy-smelling high-concentration poison gas began to flow continuously into Jiang You's master bedroom.

Inside the bedroom.

The concentration of poison gas soared rapidly.

If it were a normal person, their Lungs would have already started to ache severely by now.

But Jiang You, who was lying on the bed, had a blood-qi value as high as 200+!

What kind of concept is that?

This is equivalent to a humanoid tyrannosaurus, or a terrifying demonic beast wearing human skin!

His respiratory mucosal lining was thicker than a bulletproof vest, and his alveoli were as tough as rubber tires.

In his dream.

Jiang You was sitting at a street food stall, with a plate of freshly fried, crispy stinky tofu in front of him, and a plate of chive pockets next to it.

"Hmm? This smell..."

"Boss, is this stinky tofu of yours fermented too much? It's a bit overpowering."

[Internal Chat Group]

[Lungs (coughing slightly)]: "Ahem... what's that smell? It's a bit choking."

"The air quality index is off the charts. Did the pesticide in this rich neighborhood expire? Why does it smell like pickled cabbage?"

"Although it can't hurt me, the smell is too unpleasant; I don't want to inhale it. Brain, requesting to hold breath."

[Brain (calmly analyzing)]: "Detected neurotoxin components in the air."

"Toxicity level: Tier 3."

"Host's current physical strength: Blood-qi 200+."

"Conclusion: Discussing toxicity while ignoring dosage is just hooliganism. This concentration is just equivalent to giving the host a low-quality cigarette."

Just when the Lungs were about to hold their breath and go on strike.

The [stomach], which had been in a state of hunger, suddenly became excited.

[stomach]: "Wait! Don't hold your breath!"

"I smell the scent of energy! Although this gas has some impurities, the energy inside is very abundant!"

"Brother Lungs, don't exhale the air! Swallow this breath! Give it to me! I want to eat!"

[Lungs]: "??? Brother, are you crazy? This is gas, not food!"

[stomach]: "Stop talking nonsense! In my eyes, everything can be digested! As long as there is energy, I'll even eat the air for you to see!"

"Esophageal sphincter opening! Switching respiratory mode to swallowing mode! Come on, baby!"