Chapter 71: The Appearance of Zhang Ze
Thud, thud, thud—
Jia Zhengyi staggered back over ten steps before barely managing to steady himself. In stark contrast, Hu Yide on the other side wore a faint smile, beckoning with his right hand, inviting him to come again.
With a long exhale, Jia Zhengyi opened his eyes once more, and his entire demeanor underwent a complete transformation. Without the slightest hesitation, he lunged forward, body low, charging at Hu Yide with ferocity.
Yet, to everyone’s surprise, Hu Yide remained utterly unfazed by Jia Zhengyi’s renewed assault. Instead, he chuckled softly and moved with unhurried ease.
In midair, Jia Zhengyi twisted his body in a peculiar turn, his right foot darting like a startled dragon to jab hard at his opponent’s chest—a perfect execution of the Stabbing Kick. Thanks to the aerial spin, the attack was faster and undoubtedly more powerful than before.
…
“He’s only been gone a few days, but Jia Zhengyi’s progress is terrifying,” Zhang Ze, who was watching the match from the sidelines, couldn’t help but marvel inwardly as he observed Jia Zhengyi’s attack. If not for Jia Yao, perhaps the two would have had more in common. But now…
…
A dull, thunderous thud echoed from the ring just as the crowd from Yongsheng Martial Hall were still reeling from the sheer power of Jia Zhengyi’s Stabbing Kick.
The entire audience was stunned—Hu Yide had crossed his arms before his chest, trapping Jia Zhengyi’s right leg in an iron grip.
“What a ruthless Stabbing Kick,” Hu Yide teased lightly, a playful smile on his lips.
Jia Zhengyi, his right leg immobilized, quickly planted his left hand on the ground to avoid falling. Hearing Hu Yide’s words, his eyes narrowed sharply; he twisted, trying to pull his right foot free.
But to everyone’s shock, Hu Yide’s arms, though seemingly relaxed, were locked so tightly across his chest that there was not the slightest chance for Jia Zhengyi to break free.
…
“436S cell strength, with the upper six meridians tempered first—his arm strength is tremendous!” This, according to Zhang Ze’s system data, was Hu Yide’s advantage.
Jia Zhengyi, though he had made notable progress since leaving Yongsheng Martial Hall, had only reached about 350S in cell strength. With his right leg trapped, he was instantly at a disadvantage.
Hu Yide’s hands clamped down like iron claws on Jia Zhengyi’s ankle.
Thud—thud—
What followed was a scene of raw visual impact.
Hu Yide, gripping Jia Zhengyi, swung him left and right in a series of brutal slams, making the crowd wince in sympathy. Though Jia Zhengyi covered his head tightly with both hands, after several tosses, he was disoriented and dazed.
Hu Yide finally released his grip, still smiling as he glanced at his opponent.
It took over a minute before Jia Zhengyi staggered to his feet.
He said nothing. Had Hu Yide not pulled back, a minute would have been more than enough to kill him several times over.
With his head lowered, Jia Zhengyi walked toward the direction of the Mengyang Martial Hall.
His defeat signaled the end of Mengyang Martial Hall’s journey in the first Martial Hall Exchange Conference.
Descending from the ring, Jia Zhengyi cast a glance toward Yongsheng Martial Hall. In his eyes, there was hope, but also deep unwillingness.
Had this been two days ago, Zhang Ze might have felt anxious at this moment. Yet the clear data on his system panel filled him with immense confidence. Moreover, according to his plans, whether the second round of the Martial Hall Exchange would proceed smoothly was still uncertain.
As these thoughts ran through his mind, he heard murmurs from Qian Qian and the others nearby.
“Damn—”
“That Hu Yide is a beast, isn’t he?”
“He looked like he was just toying with Jia Zhengyi, and left him a complete mess.”
For once, Qian Qian refrained from calling Jia Zhengyi useless. Even he recognized Hu Yide’s overwhelming strength. His own upcoming opponent, by all accounts, would be even more terrifying than Hu Yide.
“It’s fine—”
“You’re in the fifth match.”
“And Hu Yide isn’t necessarily weaker than his brother Hu Yunchang.”
“If you ask me, maybe you’ll withstand three or four of those throws.”
As he glanced at the screen displaying “Match Five: Yongsheng Martial Hall, Liu Qianqian vs. Huizhou Logistics, Hu Yunchang,” Peng Fei tried to reassure him.
“Heh—”
“Don’t worry, you can just surrender straight away,” Zhang Ze joked, then stood and made his way to the center ring.
…
“That kid looks so familiar…” Duan Hong, oblivious, hadn’t realized that Zhang Ze was the very one who had so disgusted him two nights before. As he muttered to himself, he heard a reminder from Duan Wuren nearby.
He slapped his forehead in sudden realization: “So those guys from the other night were from Yongsheng Martial Hall?”
Hearing his older brother’s words, Duan Wuren shook his head slightly, choosing not to respond, thinking, “He still doesn’t even know who his opponents are, yet he dreams of beating them into the ground.”
Duan Peng, standing beside them, added, “It’s not just the Yongsheng Martial Hall folks, big brother.”
“You see Qi Lijun over there? He was there that night too, and he’s from Bangqing Martial Hall…”
The two brothers’ “high IQ” exchange left Duan Wuren speechless.
…
On the ring.
Facing his opponent, Zhang Ze suppressed his confidence. “Still, I need to be careful,” he reminded himself. His entire body tensed, muscles rippling with explosive force.
Fang Ying, seeing Zhang Ze’s readiness, wore a grave expression. Yet, before the fight began, he smiled and said, “A pity, really. Such a dazzling start, and you didn’t get to be the mainstay.”
Zhang Ze understood the reference to the “start” at once and replied with a smile, “Brother Fang, I can only apologize.”
“The protagonist has yet to take the stage, and our real drama hasn’t even begun, yet you’ll have to bow out first.”
“Haha—if you really have that kind of skill, I, Fang Ying, won’t be a sore loser!”
Their brief exchange was cut short as the instructor from Anqing Martial Bureau signaled the start. As a mid-tier martial artist, he was more than qualified to referee the Martial Hall Exchange.
…
Thud—
Dust billowed beneath their feet.
Zhang Ze was in his element.
With his powerful cell strength amplifying his every move, he was all aggression, closing the distance to Fang Ying in the blink of an eye.
Though he had anticipated an attack, Fang Ying was still taken aback by Zhang Ze’s speed.
“Three days ago, he was nowhere near this strong!”
But Fang Ying was no fool, not one to muddle through the qualifiers by sheer luck. Though startled by Zhang Ze’s ferocity, he met the attack without fear.
Boom—
Their fists collided.
Simple.
Direct.
And in that exchange, the difference in their cell strength was instantly clear!
…
“How does that kid cover so much ground with a single step!” Zhao Jinghong, a seventh-tier martial artist, gaped in disbelief, eyes glued to Zhang Ze’s figure.