Chapter 1031: Superman

The surrounding crowd gradually dispersed, leaving the wide "He Dao" to Zhang Shan and Qiao Jiajin.

The two men shifted their steps and slowly positioned themselves on the left and right sides of the "He Dao," creating a tense standoff.

For them, whether on the left or right side, there should have been plenty of people coming and going at that moment, yet the "He Dao" was exceptionally quiet, so quiet that only the sound of their breathing could be heard.

Their breathing was like cheering applause and shouts, welcoming this unregulated, unrestricted, unprotected, and unrefereed fight to the death.

The usual rules of a ring, where pinning one of the opponent's arms would mean victory, no longer applied here. In this fight, it would only end when one side surrendered or died.

Moreover, it wasn't fair to compare this duel to a standard ring match, given the significant difference in their weight classes.

Qiao Jiajin felt that his current weight was around seventy kilograms, less than one hundred and sixty pounds, while the Zhang Shan in front of him was at least over two hundred pounds.

Challenging someone in a higher weight class was rarely wise even in a regulated ring with gloves, rules, a soft mat, and a referee, let alone in this deadly fight within the hard, narrow room.

Qing Long and Di Long, sitting on the edge of the stands, also noticed the two men in the center of the "He Dao." They were positioned at the heart of the entire board, their feet on the characters "Chu He Han Jie." Though both were brimming with fighting spirit, neither moved an inch.

"Wonderful," Qing Long said.

The petite Di Long grinned and replied, "Just standing there, how is it wonderful?"

"A kind of vague wonderfulness," Qing Long answered. "Neither of them wants to fight here, since a single misstep could mean death. But the weight of 'responsibility' on their shoulders forces them to make this decision. Humans are always like this, whether in large-scale wars or small-scale conflicts. They say, 'I have to kill you, not because of what you've done, but because certain reasons compel me to.' This vague and contradictory reasoning is what I find exceptionally wonderful."

"In plain terms, it's that they shouldn't have to die," Di Long said with a "hey hey" laugh. "Forcing them to this point means the real culprits are someone else entirely."

"Ha ha!" Qing Long laughed wildly. "How amusing. You know you won't survive, and now you've lost even the basic fear toward me."

"Saying the truth should get me killed too?" Di Long responded. "You and Tian Long are the same, punishing all the 'participants' and 'Zodiac' here without reason. It's not because anyone has committed some heinous act; it's just because you want to do it, so you do."

"The 'contradiction' I mentioned is limited to mortals," Qing Long replied. "When they encounter a far superior being, that excuse doesn't hold. Due to the vast difference in strength, they can only be at our mercy."

In the "He Dao," Qiao Jiajin took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes.

In a normal situation, how should one fight an opponent with such a huge weight disadvantage?

— Yes, by not fighting at all.

But if he didn't take down this mountain now, the situation ahead would become even more troublesome.

So, to win this battle, there were three crucial points: technique, technique, and more technique.

When his build, height, reach, and strength were all inferior, he couldn't afford to blink during the fight. He had to stay fully focused and push all his techniques to 200 percent.

"Ah Jin," a voice echoed in his mind, "skip the boxing practice this afternoon. Rong Ye gave us two hundred bucks; let's go play video games."

The voice was both familiar and strange, as if he'd heard it just a few years ago, yet it felt like it hadn't appeared in decades of his life.

"No can do, Jiu Zi," he replied in his memory. "You go play video games; I'm really not good at them."

"Practicing boxing is so tiring!" Jiu Zi said. "Boxing in the afternoon and fighting at night—you're not tired, but I am. You have to learn to rest sometimes."

"But I can't afford to fall," he said. "If I fall, you fall, and if you fall, Rong Ye falls."

"Don't make it sound so exhausting!" Jiu Zi laughed at Qiao Jiajin. "Jin Ya Zi's arcade has the new version of 'Hungry Wolf Legend'; you're really not going to try it?"

"'Hungry Wolf Legend'... Jiu Zi, it's fine; if you play it, that's as good as me playing it."

Whether back then or now, the situation hadn't changed much.

If he fell, Chen Jun Nan would fall, and if Chen Jun Nan fell, Qi Xia would fall.

He wasn't a mountain or made of iron; he was just an ordinary body of flesh and blood. To stand in front of everyone and not fall, he had no choice but to forge this body into something as tough as steel.

Though he'd lost muscle and strength now, his techniques remained—this was his only weapon left.

"Big guy..." Qiao Jiajin opened his eyes and steadied his breathing. "Are you ready for this death match?"

"I've never let my guard down for a moment," Zhang Shan replied.

"Then I'm coming," Qiao Jiajin said.

Before Zhang Shan could respond, Qiao Jiajin surged forward like a gust of wind, right in front of him. Zhang Shan hadn't even set his stance when Qiao Jiajin's right hand was already in the air.

Zhang Shan steadied himself, quickly lifting one foot to block the attack with his knee, and immediately raised both hands to protect his chin.

Qiao Jiajin seemed to anticipate this; he stepped on Zhang Shan's raised leg for leverage and leaped into the air. In mid-air, he adjusted his balance, swung his legs back, leaned his upper body forward, and unleashed a full-force punch.

This move, known as "Chao Ren Fei Quan" in fighting techniques, committed all his weight and momentum to strike the opponent's face. If it landed, it could knock out the opponent in one blow, but it also risked leaving him vulnerable if his balance faltered.

Zhang Shan's large frame was surprisingly agile; before his feet even touched the ground, he twisted his upper body to dodge, protecting his chin. Qiao Jiajin's punch only grazed Zhang Shan's forearm.

The next instant was critical. As soon as Qiao Jiajin landed, Zhang Shan adjusted and threw a sideways elbow strike at Qiao Jiajin's face.

Qiao Jiajin hurriedly raised both hands to guard his face, but the immense force still shoved him back several meters.

After this brief exchange, both men's expressions turned even more serious.

Zhang Shan realized that the tattooed man before him was no ordinary thug; his fighting skills were at least as advanced as his own. Moreover, in real fights, it was delusional to expect a back-and-forth battle lasting dozens of rounds without a clear winner.

If that earlier strike had hit his chin, he would have been dazed within seconds, allowing the opponent to follow up with a guillotine choke. From the start of the fight to being subdued, it would have taken no more than twenty seconds to decide the outcome.

Thinking of this, he had no choice but to reset his stance and use his arms to shield the sides of his face.

Qiao Jiajin shook out his aching arm, rolled his neck, and adopted a boxing stance.

At that moment, he narrowed his eyes and glanced at Zhang Shan's forearm, where his punch had grazed the skin, drawing blood that now trickled out.