Advantage

Chen Chuan's moves were clean and succinct, relying on the simplest, most direct forms of attack. He aimed purely for speed and power, uninterested in toying with fancy tricks. Abandoning any direct clash to switch tactics midway, Luo Qi immediately plunged into a disadvantage. Watching that gleaming blade sweep closer, he twisted and retreated bit by bit, muscles straining throughout his entire body. He forced back the longsword that had nearly been knocked aside, desperately trying to parry Chen Chuan's oncoming edge. In an exchange of blows like this, being on the back foot was pure torment. When your opponent was always half a step ahead and you could only react and block, you became increasingly passive. Every single exchange allowed them to seize a fraction more advantage, and victory or defeat was often decided in two or three moves. Chen Chuan simply channeled his momentum into swift bursts of power. With a subtle flick of his wrists, he drove two more slashes downward. Though both were blocked, the force returning from the enemy sword grew weaker, and each parry was flimsier than the last. Yet, just as his blade was about to touch Luo Qi, an unexpected turn occurred. At the final critical moment, Luo Qi's body gave a sudden, violent twitch, and in a blink, he reappeared several meters away. The saber's tip caught nothing but thin air. Slicing through emptiness robbed all his unleashed power of an impact point. Ordinarily, this would drag one's center of gravity forward, opening a major flaw. But Chen Chuan's exceptional coordination and the mutated tissue spread throughout his body allowed him to arrest his momentum by sheer force of will, though it inevitably halted his previously fluid assault. Farther away on the other side, Old Feng had been watching from behind ever since Chen Chuan walked forward. He had seen the two exchange barely a few words before drawing their weapons. Then his vision blurred; both vanished in succession, followed immediately by the rapid, unbroken ringing of clashing steel. Where they had stood moments ago, the concrete ground had cracked, kicking up large clouds of dirt and dust that billowed and swirled. An instant later, their figures reappeared. Neither stood where they had started. Their clothes were pressed tight against their bodies from the high-speed movement, snapping back to normal only after a brief moment of settling. Chen Chuan looked ahead. Luo Qi's abrupt shift had been so fast that even he hadn't fully tracked it. That kind of explosive exertion had definitely not been in the dossier, nor was it likely an innate ability. It had to be the work of an implant. Luo Qi was also glaring intently at Chen Chuan. He had been very cautious with his cybernetic modifications, having implanted artificial tendons only in his lower back and legs—modifications that integrated smoothly with his mutated tissue. The effect was obvious, just as he had demonstrated: it gave him an additional burst beyond his natural speed. However, activating it repeatedly within a short span took a heavy toll on the body, making continuous use impossible. Furthermore, his own reaction time and coordination were not sufficient to manage sustained, high-speed shifts. Just as his actions showed, it could only be used for sudden ambushes or evasions. Having used it twice in that brief breath of time, he could feel a faint swelling ache spreading through the muscles. Twirling the sword in his hand, thoughts raced through Luo Qi's mind. He had intended to finish off Chen Chuan upon meeting, but the youth fought with a fearless disregard for his own life—quite possibly brainwashed by the State Administration Bureau. Luo Qi intended to keep his useful body alive to enjoy life; he had no desire to die alongside this boy. If so, his only option was to drag things out. Whether he had to outlast the drug's duration or wait until his contact arrived, either would do. He held things the other party craved and desperately needed; they wouldn't abandon him. With a single glance at Luo Qi's shifted stance and sword posture, Chen Chuan saw right through his intention to stall. The fact that Luo Qi could open the distance at any time was indeed a grueling challenge. It meant that even if Chen Chuan found an ideal opening, Luo Qi could slip away at the last second, preventing him from losing. And as the clash dragged on and Luo Qi hit his stride, cutting him down would only become harder. In that case, Chen Chuan could not afford to drag this out. He had to cast aside all hesitation and end the fight quickly. Raising a hand, he grasped the protective face mask over his features and tossed it aside. At the same time, his internal and external breathing aligned, channeling the Furnace Breathing Technique. Only a few days had passed since he defeated Tan Wang, so the energy stored in his body was limited. What he burned now was primarily the massive dose of medicine he had ingested and held within himself. He had taken enough pharmaceuticals beforehand to burst an ordinary fighter. In an instant, his breath grew searing hot. Wisps of white vapor seeped out from his black trench coat. He slowly raised his long saber, pointing it forward. He had already tested the waters: fundamentally, there was no essential difference between Tan Wang and Luo Qi. Once speed increased, if Tan Wang couldn't keep up, Luo Qi wouldn't be able to either. Seeing that Chen Chuan was about to launch another attack, Luo Qi braced himself on full alert. Yet his vision blurred, and Chen Chuan vanished from his sight. Shocked, before his brain could even process what had happened, Luo Qi's body instinctively pulled back to widen the gap. It was the correct choice for the situation, but when one could not track the enemy's attack or angle of approach, it was merely buying borrowed time. Chen Chuan was suddenly right in front of him. In that burst of rapid movement, the short-tied scarf broke loose and fluttered backward. Carried by the momentum of his forward rush, the long saber trailing behind him carved out a grand arc full of power and aesthetic grace, cleaving down straight toward Luo Qi! Luo Qi's pupils dilated instantly. Relying on experience and instinct, he raised his sword to parry, using every ounce of technique to deflect the saber's force while relying on his modified tendons to step back. Yet no matter how he retreated, Chen Chuan closed the gap in the very next instant. Being faster by even a hair granted an immense advantage in combat. Furthermore, the fatal flaw of Luo Qi's implants—that they could only manage short, burst movements—was fully exposed. He was reduced to parrying by sheer muscle memory as he pulled back in utter disarray. He knew without thinking that Chen Chuan had to be using some technique that forced out his latent potential. Luo Qi was capable of doing so as well, but it required mental and physical adjustments; he couldn't unleash it in an instant. Internally, he cursed the lunatics brainwashed by the State Administration Bureau. How much money could they possibly earn risking their necks like this? What was the point if they threw their lives away? Driven into a corner between life and death, he had to look out for his own survival. Experienced as he was, an idea struck him. He couldn't hold out forever at this rate; if being cut was inevitable, he could keep the damage within an acceptable range, perhaps even creating an opportunity to counterattack. Once Chen Chuan entered his focused state, he entertained no stray thoughts, fixing his attention entirely on his target. With his advantages continuously compounding, he found a flaw after just five or six slashes—or rather, a flaw Luo Qi deliberately exposed. Passing it up might mean waiting for another opportunity later. Chen Chuan did not hesitate. A single thrust pierced straight through the left side of Luo Qi's abdomen. Driven by the saber jin, the outer uniform, the protective suit beneath, and the mutated fascia failed to offer any resistance, punctured as cleanly as thin sheets of paper. Luo Qi was prepared. The strike had hit no vital organs, so the injury was far from fatal. In fact, thanks to his mutated internal organs, it barely counted as a serious wound. His fighting capacity remained fully intact, so he clamped onto the blade with one hand to stop the wound from tearing further while swinging his sword at Chen Chuan with the other. At that moment, Chen Chuan made an unexpected move: he let go of his saber, surged forward, and slammed straight into Luo Qi's chest. The violent impact sent Luo Qi reeling backward as he tried to stabilize himself, but his rear foot stepped into empty air. With a jolt of alarm, he realized that through his continuous retreat, he had backed all the way to the riverbank. Unable to check their momentum from the collision, both tumbled into the river together. Both were tall, heavy men, weighed down by gear and equipment, and they sank straight into the depths. The moment Chen Chuan hit the water, he switched naturally to internal breathing. With a nimble twist, he circled behind Luo Qi and locked an arm around his neck. Terror seized Luo Qi. A fighter was no ordinary person; with a flex of an arm, they could snap a neck like a twig without even needing to strangle. He frantically braced a hand outward to prevent his vulnerable neck from bearing the full brunt of the arm's force, while thrashing his entire body to break free from Chen Chuan's limbs, paying no heed to the wound in his abdomen. Yet down here, there was no footing whatsoever. Whenever Luo Qi exerted force, a simple shift of Chen Chuan's body knocked him off-balance, ruining his movements. Worst of all, Luo Qi lacked internal breathing. He had to hold his breath, and expending strength without an oxygen supply placed an unbearable strain on his body. Chen Chuan had trained for a month underwater; he was completely at home in this environment. He knew how to exert force beneath the surface and how to use the currents to his advantage. This was his home turf. He was in no hurry regarding Luo Qi's struggles, letting him exhaust himself. Any slight threatening move Chen Chuan made forced Luo Qi to react with all his might. Under such strain, Luo Qi could not hold out for long, and his movements soon turned weak and feeble. Spotting his chance, Chen Chuan wrapped his arm tight around the man's neck and gave a gentle squeeze, feeling something snap beneath the crook of his elbow. Up on the bank, Old Feng came running over. After seeing the sudden splash of water followed by complete silence on the shore, he realized both men had fallen in. Drawing his handgun, he hurried to the edge of the pier and aimed downward, but the rolling ripples quickly subsided. After watching for a while, his senses suddenly twitched. Turning toward the other side, he saw a hand break the surface and grip the iron ladder along the pier. Chen Chuan emerged, climbing upward. Water on his scorching skin evaporated instantly, sending plumes of white steam drifting into the air. His other hand held Luo Qi by the collar. The man's head lolled limp, and his limbs dangled lifelessly, devoid of any sign of life. Seeing this, Old Feng breathed a long sigh of relief. A smile appeared on his face as he ran over, reached down, and grabbed Chen Chuan's arm, hauling him up. Once Chen Chuan was fully ashore, Old Feng looked down at the lifeless body of Luo Qi. Even though he had known Chen Chuan could handle the man, seeing Luo Qi truly dead still gave him an unreal feeling. Chen Chuan stepped forward, pulled the Xuejun Saber from the corpse with a clean yank, flicked the blade, and asked, "Special Commissioner, do we need to bring the body back?" Holstering his gun, Old Feng said, "Better to bring it back. Old Cao might still have a use for it. And don't forget the documents—we'll take everything with us."