Chapter 90: What Will Tomorrow Be Like?
"Where's your phone?" Zhong Qing asked with a knowing smirk, clearly having been through this routine before. Trying to hack into my account for a transfer? Childish!
"I left my phone behind," Zhong Cheng defended, pointing at the rain-veiled horizon. "Earlier, I should have recorded his combat maneuvers. We could have analyzed and scrutinized his techniques later."
He adopted a grave expression, emphasizing, "Individuals like him are exceptionally rare. His fighting style deserves thorough study. And sis, you need to be proactive. If we don't get him to join your expedition team and Sister Da Wu snatches him up, you'll regret it. We're on the cusp of witnessing the emergence of a Grandmaster in his early twenties! Just pondering the implications is overwhelming. Isn't he precisely the kind of asset we need for our journey into the mysterious lands?"
"Stop it! Don't you dare call her 'Wu Da Jie' in front of me. Either address her by her name or call her 'Old Wu'!" Zhong Qing snapped, glaring at her brother.
She was still rankled by the snide remarks and insinuations made by Wu, particularly the insinuation about her 'impoverished land becoming even more barren'. The mere thought made her blood boil.
With a warning glance towards her mischievous brother, signaling him not to snoop around her personal stuff, she reluctantly handed over her phone.
......
Hidden within the veil of the rain, Wang Xuan took deep breaths, each exhale carrying a misty hue of blood. Tonight's combat had pushed him to the brink; several times within those perilous twenty-four seconds, he had teetered on the edge of death. Allowing the rain to cascade over him, he sought its coolness to soothe his inflamed body. A subtle ache resonated from his internal organs, but he was confident that with some recuperation, he'd be as good as new.
The remarkable resilience he displayed tonight, even after repeatedly tapping into Old Zhang's teachings, seemed almost supernatural. Any other practitioner, in his estimation, might have succumbed to such rigorous strain. His enhanced prowess, Wang Xuan surmised, was largely due to his proficiency in the Golden Body Technique. This discipline had amplified his physical resilience, imbuing him with an abundant life force, thus allowing him to withstand the harrowing dance on death's precipice.
A realization dawned upon him: the intricate techniques detailed in the five pages of the gold scripture were perhaps designed for those transcending mundane realms.
"To delve deeper into the golden scripture's secrets at my current level, I must continue refining the Golden Body Technique," he contemplated. This intention was rooted in his earlier insights; devoid of the Golden Body Technique's shield, he could easily have fallen prey to assassins.
He found a concealed nook and settled into meditation, channeling his foundational energy to rejuvenate his body. The night still held its mysteries, and he remained vigilant for any lurking adversaries. A sharp twinge pulled his gaze to his battered fingers. His right hand, bereft of its nails, revealed tender and raw flesh beneath, a grim testament to the battle's ferocity.
The scars on Wang Xuan's left hand narrated tales of his recent battle. Three fingernails were missing, the flesh beneath raw and torn. The remaining two nails were on the brink of detaching. Yet, his prowess in the 'Golden Body Technique,' refined to an advanced sixth layer, became his savior. The technique's innate vitality surged, mending wounds and halting the bleeding with remarkable speed.
“This ordeal, though harsh, bore fruit,” he reflected. That night, he had faced and defeated multiple near-invincible Grandmasters. Their advanced super-material armor seemed almost a futile defense against him. His triumph, against such seemingly insurmountable odds, was nothing short of legendary.
Such a feat wouldn't go unnoticed in the martial world. Wang Xuan knew he had to act discreetly and tie up any loose ends. After a short recovery, he ventured once again into the curtain of rain, his movements silent and ghost-like. As he navigated the previous battlegrounds, he discreetly collected the stray bullets and, more intimately, his lost fingernails. Leaving behind such personal remnants was unthinkable.
“Where could Chen Randeng be? Has he fallen to his foes? I sincerely hope he remains unharmed,” Wang Xuan's thoughts were tinged with concern.
"Being a guardian is more taxing than I anticipated," he sighed. Retrieving an energy cannon from a secluded storage, he stealthily headed towards the rear estate's reed pond.
Zhong Qing, epitomizing grace and beauty, peered into the rain-soaked distance. "I caught a glimpse of him. Were you able to document it? His agility is uncanny. Traversing vast spaces in a single stride is a testament to his unparalleled physical prowess."
......
She soon felt something was amiss. Turning her gaze to her brother, Zhong Qing realized that Zhong Cheng wasn't capturing the distant figure amidst the rain. Instead, he was snooping through her photo album.
A chill frost enveloped her normally radiant face, and without uttering a word, she began to mete out a series of blows on her younger brother. The usually sweet and vivacious Zhong Qing was nowhere to be seen as she furiously lashed out at him.
...
In the rainy night, a dense mist enveloped the vicinity of the reed pond. Illuminated by the flashes of lightning, it appeared as though they had entered a celestial abode, where clouds danced gracefully. Not a single drop of rain fell in the immediate area.
Amidst the fog, a fiery figure shone brightly, exuding an astonishing transcendent energy that evaporated the surrounding rain. The water in the reed pond was consumed by a ball of fire.
The golden-haired elder, with disheveled hair, descended from mid-air, bearing grievous wounds. A terrifying sword gash marred his chest. Flames spewed from his pores, indicating a terrifying energy. His once-powerful super-material armor was shattered and began to melt upon the ground.
Gasping for breath, he said, “People like us may one day approach divinity. Do not dismiss my words as mere arrogance. Everyone has dreams. If gods truly exist, why can't modern humans aspire to such greatness? Both of us have already started on this path. Unfortunately, we ended up as adversaries. Tread carefully. After my demise here, it's likely you won't be able to hide your true strength for long. You might become a subject of intense scrutiny, restricting your freedom.”
With that said, he charged forward, the silver sword in his hand now reduced to half its length, seemingly a transcendent divine sword that had astonishingly broken. His body was enveloped in brilliant flames, shining like the sun, burning through the rain and emitting a thunderous rumble as he approached.
"Safe travels," said Old Chen indifferently, his black sword radiating a brilliant light. It seemed like a bolt of lightning slashing across the pitch-black night.
Swish!
A blinding ray sliced through, extinguishing the golden-haired elder's flames. The world was plunged into darkness as his life force rapidly faded.
Arcs of electricity lit up the sky, revealing the elder's severed head, drenched in blood, hurtling through the falling rain before thudding lifelessly onto the ground.
A small spacecraft landed, and Qing Mu hurriedly approached, inquiring, "Master, are you alright?"
"It's fine," Old Chen replied, gesturing dismissively.
Soon after, Wang Xuan appeared, lugging the energy cannon with him. Seeing the golden-haired elder's body scorched on the ground, he was taken aback. The death of the top figure in the New Arts realm was undoubtedly a major event!
"Old Chen, impressive. I thought I'd need to come to your rescue," said Wang Xuan.
"Please, call me Chen Mingtu!" Old Chen stood with his sword as a support, panting heavily. He was exhausted. The opponent he faced tonight exceeded his expectations, nearly luring and killing him. Wang Xuan was silent. Just a short while ago, he was Chen Randeng, and now he had quickly ascended to another level? Chen Mingtu indeed had a formidable aura!
"How should we handle this?" Wang Xuan glanced at the body on the ground. The implications of this incident were vast, sure to alert all parties, and they needed to plan their next steps carefully.
"Truly, this man was exceptional," Old Chen remarked. "I originally intended to bury him in the reed pond, offering him the respect he deserved, allowing him to rest alongside my beloved fish." He pointed towards the now-empty pond. It was evident how destructive the golden-haired elder had been in his final moments, turning all the fish into ashes.
Chen Mingtu continued, "But Qing Mu suggested a different approach. It might be best to place him at the site of the destroyed spacecraft, making it seem as if he'd been there all along, making his 'death' appear more natural. It would simplify matters afterward."
Currently, Qing Mu was reaching out to their most trusted contacts, arranging for the lawn to be restored overnight. He was planning to divert water from a nearby river to refill the pond, aiming to return everything to its original state.
Soon, Qing Mu approached. Seeing Wang Xuan unharmed, he sighed in relief. The night had been perilous, with both his master and Wang Xuan encountering formidable adversaries.
"We can discuss this later. For now, I'll take care of the 'aging' process." After saying this, Qing Mu took the body and boarded the small spacecraft, disappearing into the night sky.
Without a doubt, once the golden-haired elder was "aged," his "cause of death" would be linked to a spacecraft malfunction. Wang Xuan was left in a state of shock and disbelief. The top figure in the New Arts realm had been killed so easily. He wondered what kind of uproar this would cause.
"We should head back," Chen Mingtu gestured, picking up the broken divine sword from the ground. He had decided to keep it, sensing its extraordinary nature.
"Once reforged, it will remain a formidable weapon," he mused, examining it closely.
Wang Xuan noted Chen Mingtu's grievous injuries: a blood-soaked arm from a significant sword cut, a gash on his forehead, and another slice on his scalp.
"Calling yourself Chen Mingtu? You almost lost your life tonight," Wang Xuan remarked, visibly stunned by the prowess of their adversaries.
"I encountered a shrewd opponent," Chen Mingtu replied, gingerly touching his wounds. Tonight's challenge wasn't just about oversight; they were up against a truly formidable adversary.
"Referring to yourself, perhaps?" Wang Xuan joked as they made their way back, with him lugging the energy cannon.
A hint of annoyance flashed across Chen Mingtu's face. He was accustomed to playing strategic games, but tonight, he nearly became a pawn himself. However, he finally conceded, "The enemy was exceptional."
Later, in the privacy of Chen Mingtu's quarters, Qing Mu, Wang Xuan, and Chen Mingtu convened. They dissected the evening's events, shared insights, and brainstormed potential responses to any repercussions.
"We can't keep this a secret for long," Chen Mingtu began. "Once word gets out, we might be subjected to restrictions. We should keep things quiet as long as possible."
"The aftermath of tonight is unpredictable. Especially since a prominent figure in the New Arts realm has been killed. Even with our cover story, who'd believe he died from a lightning strike?"
"Wang Xuan's combat in the rain didn't go unnoticed. He overcame the elites of the New Arts realm, those donned in the super-material armor, a feat likened to battling Grandmasters!"
"The most astonishing part is, Wang Xuan, you survived gunshots in plain sight and continued fighting. That's beyond impressive!"
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