Although Chen Chuan launched his punch forward, he did not invest much jin into the strike.
Since the other two had resorted to underhanded tricks, he felt no need to be polite and would naturally pay them back in kind.
In an instant, his fist met Chen Bitong's. The opposing strike looked fiercely overwhelming on the surface, yet not an ounce of jin was transferred into his body.
Sure enough, after instructing him for so long, Chen Bitong had deciphered his intent the moment Chen Chuan shifted the saber into his left hand.
Taking advantage of the situation, Chen Bitong made it appear as though they had made solid, bone-jarring contact, causing a tremendous boom to erupt where their knuckles met.
Beyond clever shifts in jin, this extraordinarily convincing illusion seemed to involve some form of mental misdirection. Had Chen Chuan not known the true reality, even he might have believed he had just absorbed a full-force blow.
Witnessing the collision, Yang Shen and Nie Guanshan harbored not the slightest doubt. Chen Bitong being stalled for even this fraction of a second meant their long-awaited opening had finally arrived.
Without an instant's hesitation, Nie Guanshan kicked off the ground, surged forward, and hurled a punch straight toward Chen Bitong!
Yang Shen flicked his ten fingers as well. The long cords floating in midair abruptly plunged down, descending like a net over both combatants.
Yet a moment later, their successive attacks merely pierced through a lingering afterimage suspended in the air. Both men's expressions changed drastically at the sight.
Realizing something was wrong, Nie Guanshan instantly pulled back into a defensive posture while retreating toward Yang Shen, attempting to shield him. He knew that right now, Yang Shen was the one most vulnerable to attack.
It was already too late.
Almost the very moment they had launched their offensive, Chen Bitong's afterimage had materialized above Yang Shen, driving a fist straight toward his skull.
Having served in the pioneer team, Yang Shen had faced life-or-death crises on numerous occasions. Sensing the danger, his reflexes kicked in instantly. Instead of recalling the unleashed Coiling Dragon Jin, he poured even more power into it. The leading cords snapped taut, hauling his body forward and sideways in a near-impossible evasion at the critical juncture.
This desperate maneuver spared his head, but the punch still slammed squarely into one of his shoulders.
In an instant, an all-pervasive jin surged into his flesh. A series of violent detonations echoed within his body and across his joints, while splitting bloody gashes ruptured across his skin.
At that moment, several parts of his body twisted unnaturally, bone and tissue thoroughly wrecked by the concussive jin—a testament to the terrifying might of that blow.
Had this been a one-on-one duel, the fight would have been effectively over.
By then, Nie Guanshan had already wheeled around and closed in, attempting to force Chen Bitong away from Yang Shen.
With one opponent incapacitated, Chen Bitong operated with far greater ease. An afterimage abruptly backlit by the skylight appeared high above Nie Guanshan, bringing a heavy foot crashing down.
Nie Guanshan could not tell illusion from reality. Yet the Immortal-Worshiping Stance unified offense and defense, fearless against incoming blows. Already braced in the stance's defensive guard, he channeled his jin to transition smoothly from defense to counterattack. Driving both fists upward, he shattered the descending afterimage on the spot.
Yet another Chen Bitong materialized beside him, striking him hard from the flank. Nie Guanshan shuddered, ducking low once more to reset into the Immortal-Worshiping Stance and neutralize the crashing jin.
Another Chen Bitong appeared on his other side, planting a punch straight into his waist. Nie Guanshan spun, throwing two fists outward; riding the momentum of this strike, his internal jin rolled in layered waves, expelling the invading force once more.
More afterimages manifested around him—front, back, left, and right. Punches and palm strikes pounded continuously across his body, while he pushed his stance to its limits, perpetually gathering force and unleashing it in defense.
Yet as more and more jin forced its way in, he could no longer purge every trace of it. With residual force steadily accumulating inside him, his movements grew increasingly sluggish.
Gritting his teeth, he held on. Dire though his predicament seemed, it was not without purpose; by tying down Chen Bitong here, he could buy an opening for Yang Shen.
Fighters at their limit healed at remarkable speed. If he could buy just a little time, Yang Shen could regain some of his fighting strength. Even so, unless a turning point presented itself, his own downfall remained only a matter of time.
As for Chen Chuan, who theoretically could have lent a hand, an afterimage of Chen Bitong had cut across his path as well, seemingly keeping him pinned down.
Nie Guanshan had no idea what had gone wrong earlier. He did not suspect a flaw in his mental ritual; rather, he assumed Chen Bitong's skills were simply superior, having seen through their scheme and turned it against them to bait them into overcommitting.
Unfortunately, once a mental ritual of that nature was triggered, it required time to gather power again. Otherwise, he would have compelled Chen Chuan to take another blow for him.
Under the relentless barrage, Nie Guanshan's reactions grew heavier by the second. It seemed one or two more strikes would suppress him entirely.
Yet just as Chen Bitong plummeted from the air to deliver the decisive blow, a slender cord suddenly coiled around his arm, its opposite end anchored beneath Nie Guanshan's foot.
Having prepared for this all along, Nie Guanshan violently retracted his jin. Hauled by the violent yank, Chen Bitong was dragged straight out of the sky, tumbling onto the ground. Before he could recover, even more cords swarmed up, binding half of his body securely in place.
Blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, Yang Shen lay on the ground, a savage grin spreading across his face. "Got you!"
His Coiling Dragon Jin was not merely an overt physical force; it encompassed mental tracking techniques as well, with its true essence rooted in the word "coil."
So long as an opponent's jin entered his body, his spirit would lock firmly onto them.
From that point on, no matter how many afterimages the foe conjured or where they sought to hide, his spirit could pinpoint them without error.
Yet having lost much of his strength, tracking alone would have been useless. That was why he held another card.
Those cords were not actual weapons; they were mutated tissue grown from his body through cultivating Coiling Dragon Jin—a living biological organism that moved autonomously at the command of his spirit.
This was his true trump card!
Locked onto Chen Bitong through his spiritual trace at the exact moment the man focused on striking Nie Guanshan, the cords had capitalized on the gap to ensnare him instantly.
Incredibly tough and resilient, once they seized a target, pulling free was out of the question for the moment.
And in battle, a target did not even need a whole moment—a mere pause was enough to flip the board entirely.
This was one of their contingency plans. From the start, they had never believed the backup sent by the Defense Department could hold Chen Bitong. Those peers who shared their limit were all bound by their own assignments and could not coordinate with them, so they had prepared for the newcomer to be completely useless.
If the situation deteriorated, this would be their means of turning the tables.
It was only a precaution. If possible, they had never wanted to drive themselves into such a perilous corner, preferring to prioritize their personal safety. Yet pushed to this brink, they had been forced to deploy it.
The outcome, at least, was ideal. Once ensnared, Chen Bitong could not tear free immediately, and the remaining afterimages vanished one after another.
The Coiling Dragon Cords had bound this flying dragon!
Nie Guanshan had been waiting for this exact opening. With a thunderous roar, he marshaled every ounce of strength and slammed both fists brutally toward Chen Bitong's chest.
With nowhere to dodge, even Chen Bitong would be critically wounded by such an impact.
Just moments ago, Chen Bitong had seemed on the verge of victory, only for the two men to reverse the tables. That was the advantage of pairing up—their margin for error was vastly wider than a lone fighter's.
Yet at that exact instant, a subtle shift occurred in Chen Bitong's spirit. He raised his head, bringing his free, uncoiled arm up to block.
A faint radiance shimmered across the surface of that arm.
Nie Guanshan's fists smashed into it, but his surging jin seemed to plunge into a bottomless abyss, meeting no resistance and eliciting no response whatsoever.
Nie Guanshan froze. Then, catching sight of the faintly shimmering glow, a realization struck him, and horror flooded his eyes.
Abandoning any thought of pressing the attack, he pushed off the ground to retreat. Judging by his trajectory, he was not pulling back to defend—he intended to flee the scene entirely.
With a casual yank, Chen Bitong ripped through every single one of the tough cords binding him. His silhouette flickered where he stood; by the time he reappeared, he had already overtaken Nie Guanshan.
Nie Guanshan frantically reset into the Immortal-Worshiping Stance's guard, but Chen Bitong's faintly glowing hand hammered directly into his abdomen.
Nie Guanshan's spine arched backward as his entire body lifted into the air—the first time his toes had left the ground since establishing his Immortal-Worshiping Stance.
This time, the jin of his stance failed to check the penetrating force. That surging torrent ripped through his internal defenses, violently churning through his vitals.
Chen Bitong stepped forward, driving an elbow straight into his throat. The sound of fracturing cartilage was followed by an unbroken series of internal detonations throughout his frame.
Without relenting, Chen Bitong brought a palm crashing down upon Nie Guanshan's forehead. Nie Guanshan's eyes rolled back, and he was hurled violently backward, crashing to the ground in the distance without a trace of breath left in him.
Meanwhile, Yang Shen had slowly dragged himself upright. In those few fleeting moments, he had already repaired a portion of his damaged tissues. Without sparing a glance for Nie Guanshan, he stumbled desperately toward the exit.
Right then, gunfire erupted from above, bullets raining down upon him.
Even for a third limit fighter, if his mutated tissues could not coalesce, withstanding such a hail of gunfire was impossible. Fortunately, he wore a protective suit and protective gloves; raising his arms to shield his head and face, he pushed through the spray of lead.
Yet before he could make it far, a figure materialized in front of him.
Terrified, he lunged to the side, but a hand cut through the air, slapping flat against the side of his neck. String-Void Jin traveled straight into his spine, every vertebra crackling like exploding firecrackers.
Convulsing violently midair, he flew over a dozen meters before crashing limply onto the ground. Rolling in a grotesque, twisted sprawl, he ended up lying motionless like a pile of mud.
Chapter 553