Suppression

In just a breath or two, crisscrossing blue and red patterns surfaced across Douma's body. They were formed entirely of bulging cords of sinew, and abnormal protrusions appeared in muscles and bones throughout his frame, even forcing his height up by several centimeters. When he lowered his crossed arms, the onlookers gasped in shock. Douma's face was likewise covered in a tangle of blue and red sinews. Tightly stretched muscle pulled the corners of his mouth and eyes upward at a sharp angle, and the outlines of his teeth showed through taut flesh, making him look exceptionally savage and sinister. Since the tie holding his hair had come loose during the earlier clash, his disheveled mane framed him like an apparition straight out of a nightmare. The people watching from the upper floors of the buildings on both sides of the street trembled in terror, thinking they were looking at some monster. The Maka students stared blankly; most had no idea what this was, though eyes like Nali's grew heavy with foreboding. Seeing this grotesque transformation, Chen Chuan grew solemn. He vaguely recalled Cheng Zitong once mentioning such a state. It seemed to be something fighters reached when driven to extremes—yet doing this was no different from overdrawing one's life force. In such a state, the growth of mutated tissue ran rampant, bound to usurp the body's original functions. One could say that once this was done, unless prompt relief and medical treatment were provided, a countdown to the end of one's life had essentially begun. Such an enemy appeared far more formidable than before, and he clearly intended to leave himself no way out. Chen Chuan guessed that perhaps Douma made this choice because today's events demanded an answer. If that was the case, he would grant his wish. Chen Chuan reached for his jacket buttons, undoing them one by one. Slipping off his student uniform coat to reveal the white shirt beneath, he tossed the garment aside. Douma stood waiting while Chen Chuan took off his coat. Even though he knew that every second from this moment on cost him a fraction of his remaining life, he still showed respect to this opponent—for this might well be the final adversary of his existence. Once Chen Chuan was fully prepared, a muffled roar tore from Douma's throat and chest. The ground beneath his feet shattered, and in an instant he was upon Chen Chuan. His hands clamped onto Chen Chuan's shoulders, hoisting him clean off the ground before slamming him down violently. To Chen Chuan's senses, the man had lunged before him in a blur that surpassed his reaction speed. Yet the moment he was seized, he circulated his jin, expanding the mutated tissue within him to brace against any penetrating force. To his surprise, the expected jin never arrived; the man had merely used a standard slam common to ordinary fighters. Drawing a sharp breath, Chen Chuan tightened his mutated tissue to shield his vitals. As he slammed heavily into the street, the pavement fractured inch by inch, flying debris scattering as a shallow crater was driven into the ground beneath him. Not stopping there, Douma hauled him up once more to slam him to the other side. Chen Chuan hooked a foot behind Douma's calf, checking his momentum. Douma looked up and met Chen Chuan's calm gaze; spinning in place, Douma put all his strength into his arms and hurled Chen Chuan far into the distance! Tucking his limbs in midair, Chen Chuan curled into a tight ball as his mutated tissue contracted. The next instant, he crashed into an adjacent residential building with a resounding boom that spiderwebbed the wall. "Chen Chuan!" Luo Kaiyuan grew anxious. Clenching his fists, he moved to charge Douma, but Maka students stepped forward to block him. Luo Kaiyuan snatched one's arm and twisted the wrist, forcing the student to his knees, then kicked him aside. Before he could advance another step, another Maka student rushed in to stop him. Just then, Chen Chuan pushed off the wall behind him and stood up as though nothing had happened. Brushing the dust from his chest, he stepped back onto the street. Seeing him appear utterly unharmed, the onlookers wore looks of disbelief. Guan Xinyin was equally astonished, her gaze lingering on him for quite some time. Chen Chuan looked up at Douma and noticed the man's breathing had grown ragged, his eyes bloodshot. Though he had been physically dominated just now, he had not suffered any jin technique attacks, leading him to a conclusion. While stimulating the mutated tissue drastically enhanced strength and speed, the human body remained an intricate structure. Highly refined jin techniques could be disrupted if even a single part fell out of alignment—just as Fang Dawei had lost the ability to wield jin after undergoing implant modifications. Therefore, he deduced that although Douma's physical attributes had surged, Douma could not smoothly channel his familiar jin techniques before adapting to the changes, forcing him to rely purely on raw physical dominance. In truth, that was a valid approach. As the saying went, absolute strength could overcome all technique; as long as the force was overwhelming enough, one could fell an opponent even without jin. But that was only if it actually knocked the opponent down. The burden brought by this abnormal state was clearly immense, which meant Chen Chuan needed to force him to keep exerting himself and accelerate the drain on his stamina. Rolling his wrists, Chen Chuan said calmly, "Teacher Douma, it seems this class must go on." With a roar, Douma leaped forward from a standstill. This time, Chen Chuan was prepared for his speed and had deliberately maintained some distance. The moment Douma made his move, Chen Chuan dodged sideways. Douma's form crashed into the spot he had just vacated, reducing the paving stones to splinters. Unable to brake in time, Douma lunged forward several more paces. After the mutation, his control over his own power had clearly deteriorated. Just as Chen Chuan thought he had slipped away, Douma reached outward, snagging Chen Chuan's arm and dragging him backward. Chen Chuan realized at once that Douma's arms and fingers were a fraction longer than before. He had deliberately kept them contracted prior to re-engaging, pulling off a tactical deception that caused Chen Chuan to misjudge the reach. Reacting swiftly, Chen Chuan planted a foot against Douma's chest and abdomen, preventing him from dragging him any closer. After two failed attempts to haul him in, Douma drove a punch down toward his head instead. Calmly raising his arms to parry and deflect, Chen Chuan slipped and ducked. While the fists carried immense power, he deflected most of them at minimal cost; the few blows that connected failed to cause any real harm. Douma threw over a dozen strikes without managing to hurt Chen Chuan, only making his own breathing grow heavier. Abandoning the assault, he grabbed Chen Chuan with both hands, raised him high, and drove him toward the ground once more. This time, however, Chen Chuan hooked a leg behind Douma's head, pulling him down into a half-kneeling posture. Yet Douma refused to let go; thrusting his upper body forward, he swung Chen Chuan down hard, cracking the pavement beneath Chen Chuan's back. Douma straightened again to repeat the throw, but Chen Chuan unhooked his leg from Douma's neck. The mutated tissue inside his frame surged, channeling an explosive burst of force into his leg at close range, snapping the tip of his foot hard into the side of Douma's neck. Struck by the blow, even Douma's vastly enhanced resilience could not keep his grip from loosening. Chen Chuan slipped free, turned out from beneath the man's frame, and yanked Douma's arm, throwing him off-balance while driving a heavy fist into his face. Douma's head snapped back. As he struggled through a wave of dizziness, momentum seized him, and the world spun violently—Chen Chuan slammed him to the ground with a shoulder throw, carving a web of fractures into the street beneath him. Yet the surge of mutated tissue, while inflicting agony and devouring Douma's vitality, also dramatically reinforced his body's durability. The slam did virtually no damage. Chen Chuan had considered joint locks, but seeing the skeletal structure shifting as the mutation deepened, he knew standard techniques meant for human anatomy would not work, so he abandoned the idea. Seizing the moment while Douma lay flat on his back, he launched a kick at his head. Douma instinctively raised an arm to block, his five fingers contorting in reverse to clamp onto Chen Chuan's calf, then hurled him away with tremendous force! Flying through the air, Chen Chuan rolled across the ground, braced with a hand, and stood up once more, entirely uninjured. He looked toward Douma, who was panting continuously. The man looked noticeably thinner than before, and the skin across his frame was no longer as taut as it had been, having grown noticeably slack. This proved the strategy was working: intense combat rapidly burned through vitality. Lowering his stance slightly, Chen Chuan went on the offensive before Douma could attack. Seeing him charge, Douma drew a deep breath and met him head-on. But when Douma threw a punch, Chen Chuan slipped it easily, driving a heavy fist into Douma's abdomen and following with an open-palm thrust that slid up against his face. Realizing the danger, Douma raised a forearm to deflect the hand. Chen Chuan drove an upward knee; Douma quickly raised his own knee to meet it. When the two collided, Chen Chuan held his raised knee steady, while Douma stumbled back several steps. Chen Chuan slowly lowered his foot. He could tell Douma's strength was waning and his reactions were slowing down. The initial surge of physical mutation had peaked; with his vitality ebbing away, his physical condition was steadily deteriorating. Looking at the gasping Douma, he said, "Teacher Douma, you can stand down." Douma let out a furious roar and charged. Halfway through, Chen Chuan caught him with a kick squarely to the head, sending him staggering sideways, nearly tumbling to the ground. The surrounding Maka students cried out in alarm, "Teacher!" Struggling to stand upright, Douma took a deep breath. The blue and red cords across his body darkened to an even deeper hue, and without a word, he barreled forward. His charge was so fierce that the road behind his feet fractured all the way. Chen Chuan ducked beneath the outstretched hands, lunged forward to lever him over his shoulder, and slammed him down violently. With a resounding crash, the ground beneath everyone's feet trembled. Douma struggled to his feet again, but halfway up, Chen Chuan's fist caught him in the face, knocking him flat on his back. Still he tried to rise, only to be struck down once more. The Maka students watching could bear it no longer and tried to rush in, but they were intercepted and subdued by the growing numbers of Wuyi students arriving on the scene. The crowd watched in silence as Chen Chuan struck Douma down punch after punch each time he tried to rise. After yet another failed attempt to get up, Douma finally lay there, motionless. By now, his entire frame had shriveled, leaving little more than a layer of skin draped over deformed bones. Wisps of steam rose from his body like evaporating heat, carrying away the remaining moisture from within him. In a raspy voice, he murmured, "Student... do you see? The patterns coursing through my body... that is the true record of karmic pulse study. That is how karmic pulse study was truly handed down." Chen Chuan looked at him and said, "Perhaps it would have been better if you had taught that openly in the classroom." Douma mumbled, "Yes... but we have no time. The world's resonance is deepening. The Maka must secure a place for ourselves... only then will we have the strength to chase the tide of this era..." His voice grew fainter and fainter, until it fell into complete silence. Chen Chuan looked up at the glaring sunlight pouring down from above. Taking a breath, he walked toward the students waiting quietly in the distance.