Chapter 120: Chapter 120: An Accident Occurs, Out of Sight in a Thought
TUMBLE! RUMBLE!
Struck mid-air by Yang Mutong’s palm, Pan Hexuan flew back four or five meters. He then tumbled another seven or eight meters across the soft mat like a rubber ball before finally coming to a stop. His clothes were a mess, and he looked utterly wretched.
BLECH!
He felt a coppery sweetness in his chest as a trickle of bright red blood flowed from the corner of his mouth. He tried to struggle to his feet but found his entire body was limp. His bones felt rattled, and he couldn’t muster any strength. He collapsed back onto the ground.
"I concede."
Left with no other choice, Pan Hexuan could only raise his hand in surrender.
He never would have imagined that the ridiculously beautiful young woman across from him was a master of Fist Intent Soul Capturing, and one with such terrifying strength at that.
It was pointless to continue fighting. He had no chance of victory.
He had always considered himself an exceptionally talented Martial Artist, having reached the Tonghui Internalization realm at such a young age. Yet here he was, in the very first round of the auditions, face-to-face with a genius who completely eclipsed him.
There was always someone stronger out there.
A certain phrase suddenly came to mind.
’Being a genius is merely the minimum requirement to meet me.’
Countless top-tier geniuses of the Martial Arts Dao from all over the country had gathered for this Martial Hero Conference.
"Pan Hexuan concedes! The winner of this match is Yang Mutong!" the middle-aged referee shouted.
"Medical team! Enter the ring and check on the injured contestant!"
"So young? And she’s already reached the realm of Fist Intent Soul Breaking? How old is she?"
At the judges’ table, Wu Xianjue and another judge both wore expressions of astonishment.
"Nineteen," Yi Beidou stated.
"Incredible! Truly incredible!"
Hearing her age, both Wu Xianjue and the other judge were left speechless. ’As expected of someone in his retinue,’ they thought. ’A nineteen-year-old at the level of Fist Intent Soul Breaking would be considered a once-in-a-century genius in any school or sect.’
’Is this what it means to be a Saint Disciple?’
Meanwhile, the rest of the arena remained deathly silent.
The sight of Yang Mutong’s fluid, dance-like movements, of her launching a tall, grown man into the air and then blasting him away with a palm strike, was simply too shocking.
When had any of these ordinary citizens ever witnessed such a feat? It was like watching a scene from a martial arts film.
This was precisely the effect Yang Mutong had intended.
All the rumors were dispelled in an instant.
Yang Mutong bowed respectfully to her opponent and then to the middle-aged referee before walking off the stage and resuming her position behind Yi Beidou.
Only then did the crowd finally snap out of their stupor.
"I... I wasn’t seeing things, was I? Did that girl just launch a guy half a head taller than her into the air and then spike him away with her palm like a volleyball?!"
"I thought I was watching a movie! Are you sure that wasn’t a choreographed stunt? Pan Hexuan wasn’t on a wire harness or something?! That girl looks so slender, how could she possibly generate that much power?!"
"A wire harness, my ass! Didn’t you see him spit up blood? The medics are up there right now! That girl didn’t get here through connections; she’s the real deal!"
"..."
The stands instantly erupted into a clamorous uproar.
"Senior Brother Pan..."
Meanwhile, the students from the Dechang University Martial Arts Club were all frozen in place.
No one knew better than them that Pan Hexuan would never throw a match or be part of a staged performance.
Which meant that Pan Hexuan had truly been defeated by that impossibly beautiful girl in a manner so spectacular and unbelievable it looked like something out of a film!
Despite the clear disparity in gender and physique, the Senior Brother Pan they viewed as terrifyingly strong hadn’t even lasted a single move against her.
There was no inside deal, no corrupt referee—only overwhelming power.
’Is this what real martial arts and the Martial Arts Dao are all about?’
Everyone’s gaze fell upon the tall figure standing behind the judges’ table.
What kind of person could command such respect from a young female Martial Artist who possessed both stunning looks and incredible power?
Everyone grew even more curious about the true identity of this Mr. Yi.
"Doesn’t that Mr. Yi look a little familiar to you guys?" Just then, Jiang Yiyang spoke up, his expression thoughtful.
"Familiar? Not at all. I don’t recognize him."
Shen Jiayue and the others shook their heads. They weren’t paying much attention to him; they were far more worried about Pan Hexuan’s condition.
That last palm strike looked severe. They wondered how badly Senior Brother Pan was hurt.
The atmosphere in the venue grew even more fervent.
Without a doubt, Yang Mutong had kicked off the Wencheng auditions with a bang, making everyone present realize that the hype surrounding the Martial Hero Conference was no exaggeration.
There truly were masters here with incredible skills, possessing a level of martial power beyond the comprehension of ordinary people.
Everyone found themselves looking forward to the subsequent matches with even greater anticipation.
And the matches that followed did not disappoint. In fact, they exceeded the audience’s wildest expectations.
Every contestant had been carefully vetted by the organizing committee during registration; all of them possessed genuine skill. The clash between such individuals was naturally filled with a kind of spectacle ordinary citizens had never witnessed.
Moreover, these were truly no-holds-barred, no-weight-class duels. The visceral thrill of flesh-and-blood impact and the myriad of bizarre Techniques were like opening a door to a whole new world for everyone.
But beyond the excitement, a sense of heart-pounding terror began to creep into many of the spectators.
They finally understood why these matches weren’t broadcast on television or the internet, and why minors were barred from the venue, even with their parents.
Because the clashes between some of the masters were simply too savage.
They saw two Martial Artists savagely fighting, leaving each other with split heads and bleeding faces, their skin torn and flesh mangled. Blood gushed from multiple wounds, soaking their Martial Arts Uniforms crimson.
They watched as one Martial Artist’s arm was twisted until it dislocated and deformed, a suppressed, agonized roar escaping his lips.
While there were only one or two matches like this, they were more than enough to make everyone’s skin crawl.
In this era of peace, it was the first time any of them had seen a domestic competition of such brutal intensity.
And this was with the referees intervening in time to prevent even more grievous injuries or deaths.
They had all heard before the tournament that contestants had to sign a Life and Death Contract, but they had assumed it was just a formality, a promotional gimmick.
Now, they were genuinely afraid that a contestant might actually die tonight.
However, as if to confirm their worst fears, the unexpected suddenly occurred.
THWACK!!
In the middle of a clash, one contestant made a careless move and took a fist to the chest. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed to the ground with a heavy THUD, unmoving.
The medical team immediately rushed onto the stage.
"No heartbeat! Get the defibrillator, now! Stretcher! We need to get him to a hospital immediately!" one of Wencheng’s best emergency doctors, whom the medical team had brought in, shouted frantically after checking the contestant’s condition.
’No heartbeat? Someone’s dying?!’
The entire arena erupted in an uproar and commotion spread through the crowd. The face of the man’s opponent was also pale.
They were opponents, but there was no personal grudge between them; he had never wanted to take the man’s life. Unfortunately, fists have no eyes.
He could only stand where he was, hands pressed together, praying for his opponent.
"Put him down. Lay him flat on the ground."
Just as the medical team was scrambling to begin CPR on the downed contestant, a voice suddenly spoke up beside them.
Somehow, a young man was now standing beside them, his tall frame blocking the overhead lights and casting a large shadow over them.
"Isn’t that the young judge from the main seat? When did he get into the ring? Wasn’t he just sitting at the judges’ table a second ago?"
"This is a critical moment for the doctors! What’s Mr. Yi doing up there getting in the way? Isn’t he just making things worse?"
"..."
Seeing this, the audience began to whisper amongst themselves. Even the members of the Dechang University Martial Arts Club frowned slightly.
Only Jiang Yiyang’s expression was frozen, his face a mask of utter shock.
He had felt a sense of familiarity with Mr. Yi earlier, so he had been keeping a close eye on the judges’ table.
The other spectators might have missed it, but he had seen it with his own eyes. Just a moment ago, the figure of Mr. Yi, who had been sitting at the judges’ table, simply flickered and vanished.
By the time he whipped his head around to find him, the man had already reappeared in the center of the ring—ten or twenty meters away from the judges’ table—all in an instant.
He had moved so fast that it exceeded the limits of his retinal persistence, almost as if he had teleported.
Jiang Yiyang felt a jolt of electricity shoot through his entire body, and his scalp felt like it was about to split open.
