"Is that the guy? That poet or whatever?" On the third floor of a building facing the boulevard, He Tangtang looked through a pair of binoculars and asked.
"Must be him, acting so full of himself." Wen Jifei chuckled from behind his sniper scope. "How about I just blow his head off right now? The way he'd collapse would be hilarious. Teach him to strike a pose."
"Hell yeah! Do it, drop him!" He Tangtang immediately voiced enthusiastic support.
Han Qingyu smiled faintly.
Plague Chicken had a point—the way that fellow was strolling down the street dragging his blade was indeed pure posturing.
In truth, however, from this distance Plague Chicken could hardly guarantee that the final bullet in his chamber would strike a vital spot.
If this Corpse Man Weize truly stood above top-tier, his state of full combat alert would make the bullet's hit rate exceedingly low—and even if it struck, it likely wouldn't be fatal.
"Hey, what's tattooed on him? That English word?" He Tangtang asked curiously out of nowhere.
"'Death is me.' 'He's about to die,'" Rusty Sister translated, sounding eager to jump into the fray.
Behind them, Han Qingyu's expression suddenly went rigid. Turning to Wu Xu, he passed the binoculars over and said, "Wu Xu, take a look. Notice anything strange about his physical state? He looks like..."
"Like the corpse we saw back at the Second Research Institute, steeped inside that iron armor," Wu Xu said after looking through the lenses.
Han Qingyu nodded.
Corpse Man Weize's bodily condition was strikingly similar to the corpses immersed beneath the Huaxia Second Research Institute, which had been used to produce life source energy to feed the monster pythons.
The difference was that he was alive.
"Weize really is... terrifying just to look at."
"Well, he is a Corpse Man. It’d be strange if he weren’t frightening."
"By the way, how did he get so strong?"
"Who knows? There are rumors out there, but they’re all just wild guesses."
Amidst the chatter of the onlookers, Weize halted on the street, the greatblade resting behind him where it had dragged along the ground. By now, he had reached about a quarter of the way down the boulevard.
"I want to fight Dao Dali." Facing east, Weize spoke in English, his voice low and raspy like sandpaper rubbing against sandpaper, grating unpleasantly on the ears.
Two seconds, three seconds. "I want to fight Dao Dali. Win or lose, life or death," Weize repeated.
Still, there was no reply.
In the Wild Band Alliance's battle formation at the eastern end of the street, Lubi Azha looked up at Uncle Shiliang's hand and tightened his grip on his blade. Every one of them was gripping their weapons tightly, but inevitably, their hands trembled with a bitter unease.
Boss Dao still hadn't appeared.
"Our top-tier—"
"He's here!"
Amidst a chorus of gasps, a figure emerged from behind the Wild Band Alliance and stepped through the ranks.
They had seen this figure two nights ago.
Zhu Jiaming passed through his own side's battle formation without feeling a thing; he passed over the slash mark left by Chen Buer without feeling a thing; but when he passed the entrance of the pleasure house, his spirits instantly lifted.
*Losing doesn't matter... as long as I put on a good show and make it back alive, my future will be bliss,* the Little Prince thought. He figured he probably couldn't beat him in a fight, but escaping would be no problem at all. Furthermore, his appraisal of Han Qingyu and the others' combat prowess was far higher than most people's, even if that fellow wasn't in peak condition right now.
"Wait, that doesn't look like Dao Dali?"
"Yeah, it isn't him."
"Does that mean Corpse Man Weize isn't even worth Dao Dali stepping up personally?"
"Who knows?"
Amidst the low murmurs, Zhu Jiaming drew nearer. As he reached the halfway point of the boulevard, the streetlights illuminated his face... and sudden cries of astonishment rang out from the rooftops and buildings on both sides:
"Wait, why is it him?!" "Oh! Isn't that the uncle?!" "...It really is him!"
Most of those speaking up were regulars from Bar No. 15 who recognized him. Jenna and Lynne, for instance, were currently staring at each other in utter bewilderment on their rooftop.
"Who is he?! What do you mean, 'Why him?' Who is that guy?! Is he famous?" Most people in the crowd didn't know Zhu Jiaming and hurriedly asked around.
"He's... the guy who wipes down cars outside Bar No. 15. The oldest one in that five-person crew, if I remember right."
"Right! I even tipped him once," someone explained blankly.
"Wait, years ago?!" the person next to him pressed.
"No, just a few days ago," the person replied, staring down at the street.
...So a man who was wiping down cars outside a bar just days ago had now stepped forth to face Weize. "Could he be—?!"
"A top-tier!"
A car washer possessing top combat power sounded absurd, but right now there was no room for doubt. Down on the boulevard below, Zhu Jiaming had already made his move... He didn't speak English and couldn't chat anyway, so he might as well look cool.
His source energy apparatus roared, shimmering blue light wavering as the Little Prince surged forward with a horizontal blade, sweeping across the boulevard.
From this single opening move alone, everyone present was certain: he was a top-tier combatant. Top-tier speed, top-tier explosive power. Zhu Jiaming's first strike held no flashy tricks—a direct horizontal slash.
"Good!" Weize's eyes widened. Even as he spoke, his massive blade had carved a semicircle from behind his back to the front, cleaving downward with a howl.
*Boom!* Their first blows collided head-on.
The ground shook. Across the entire street, windowpanes shattered in a deafening cascade; dead iron doors and window shutters buckled inward slightly before popping back into shape with a series of dull thuds.
This level of clash far surpassed the battle between top-tiers two nights ago.
In this collision, neither combatant was a novice to the top tier.
Following the clash, Corpse Man Weize stepped his right foot back half a pace and held his ground firmly.
At the same time, "Holy fuck."
Zhu Jiaming was hurled backward through the air. Amidst the collective gasps, he flew back nearly a hundred meters... Midair, half his blade struck the ground first, embedding itself into the flagstones.
Then his body spun around to land, flicking the war blade upward in a single motion.
*Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!* A long row of flagstones was ripped up by surging waves of source energy, hurtling toward Weize. Simultaneously, with an explosive sonic boom, the Little Prince pounced forward to strike once more.
"Not bad." Weize slashed again, an almost unchanged vertical chop relying entirely on sheer, brute force.
His long blade traced a semicircle downward, slicing cleanly through the barrage of massive stones to land accurately against Zhu Jiaming's edge.
*Crash!* Amidst the uproar of the spectators, Zhu Jiaming was sent flying once more.
He landed far back, stumbling more than a dozen steps before finally managing to steady himself.
In those two lightning-fast exchanges, Zhu Jiaming had initiated both attacks... and had been repelled both times.
"Looks like that uncle can't beat him."
"Yeah, he's so strong."
Corpse Man Weize was terrifyingly strong.
"Rumor has it Corpse Man Weize has the heaviest first strike below super level, the fastest second strike, and a third strike where anyone who sees it dies... That was probably just his first strike."
"What?! Then what will the car-washing uncle do?! What will they do?"
Lynne grabbed Jenna's arm so tightly it hurt. Emotionally, both of them naturally wanted the uncle to win... *Wait, no! Both our dads are on the Five Major Factions' side!*
As for the others, psychologically they were perhaps simply inclined to root for the underdog... hoping for an unexpected, spectacular upset.
Yet there was none.
*Spurt!* Fifteen seconds after hitting the ground, Zhu Jiaming abruptly lowered his head and spat out a mouthful of blood.
"So, is Dao Dali still not coming? If he doesn't come soon, you will die," Weize said, dragging his blade as he advanced at an unhurried pace.
He strode forward like an avenging specter claiming a soul.
"Run, Uncle!"
"Hurry and run!"
People cried out in their hearts, some even whispering it aloud.
But Zhu Jiaming didn't run. He remained standing there, merely turning his head to shout into the distance: "This motherfucker really is pretty damn tough."
What was he doing?
Who was he talking to?
The onlookers were bewildered...
"...Oh. Okay, got it."
A calm response drifted from the far end of the boulevard.
The figure who stepped into view with those words was dressed in black, a war blade slung casually in hand, while something wrapped in cloth was slung behind his shoulder, impossible to make out at a glance.
He was a young man with a scar on his face.
He had jet-black hair.
So it still wasn't Dao Dali.
"Who's that?"
"..."
"Where's Han Qingqing?!" Up in the third-floor room, Rusty Sister hadn't seen the final moments down on the street. She had just been preparing to head downstairs when she realized Qingzi was already gone.
"Han Qingqing went to hack someone up," Wen Jifei said with a grin, blocking the doorway.
The iron armor stamped a foot with a clatter. "Aiya, that guy is really strong..." she fretted anxiously.
She quickly realized that precisely because Corpse Man Weize was stronger than anticipated, Qingzi had stepped up himself. "But we agreed! This fight was supposed to be mine! Did you guys forget? Jiang Chou said my current armor has the strongest defense below super level..."
"Doesn't matter. The strongest defense doesn't mean no one below super can breach it. Han Qingqing is terrified of your iron armor getting damaged—scared to death of it."
If Rusty Sister's iron armor broke, she would die.
That was why over the past two years, she had earned the fewest medals... because if there was even the slightest alternative, they never let her enter a fight to the death.
Even back during that battle against Qu Zongyan, she had only faced him for that single final killing blow.
"Don't worry, I'm going too." Wen Jifei patted the cloth-wrapped sniper rifle on his back. With a faint smile, he opened the door, headed downstairs, and hurried after Han Qingyu.
Chapter 473