After chatting for a few moments while pretending they weren't close, A-Train finally lost his patience. Covering his mouth, he lowered his voice and told Popclaw to get lost.
Whatever else passed between them went unheard.
In the end, Popclaw stalked off, her face tight with anger.
Just as Butcher was about to keep trailing her, another wave of deafening cheers erupted across the arena. Countless spectators leaped from their seats, blocking his view.
With no other choice, Butcher lowered his binoculars and followed the crowd's gaze.
Unlike Derek, who had walked up step by step, Qi Li spread his arms under the gaze of thousands. As the crowd roared, his feet slowly lifted off the ground, carrying him into the air.
Immediately after—
*Boom—*
He transformed into a streak of cyan-gold lightning, skimming the perimeter of the oval grandstand at breakneck speed.
A violent gust swept across the sea of upturned faces, triggering a barrage of shrill, voice-cracking screams of excitement.
Finally, an ear-splitting sonic boom detonated in midair.
Qi Li's figure seemed to teleport out of thin air, descending straight from above to land dead center on the massive stage, bending one knee slightly to absorb the impact.
The next second, the arena's roar surged to an entirely new peak.
Butcher watched the whole spectacle with cold eyes.
Just moments ago, Qi Li had flown skimming the ground, whistling past him barely inches away.
"Quite the performer, aren't you, hotshot?" Butcher muttered, the corner of his mouth ticking upward.
At this moment, if anyone in the entire arena was burning with the fiercest envy and rage, it was naturally Derek.
The cheers echoing through this place should have belonged to him and him alone. Yet Qi Li had stolen them away.
Along with Godkin University's number one rank, which should have been his, the envy of his classmates, the glowing praise from professors, the frantic pursuit of major corporate sponsors...
And Sigrid, that frigid bitch—she had seemingly rolled right into bed with this damned bastard too.
Every last bit of it should have been his!
It was Qi Li!
This Chinese bumpkin he looked down on!
He had used dirty tricks to shamelessly rob Derek of everything.
Worst of all, America was full of traitors! Turncoats!
Their tentacles were everywhere, having already wormed their way into Godkin's leadership, into Vought, and into the deep state that pulled all the strings behind the scenes.
And what they loved destroying most were true patriots like him—pure-blooded, raised on American soil, reading the Bible beside the fireplace from childhood, staunchly pro-gun, and unapologetically anti-abortion!
Everything Stormfront said online was true!
Invasive vermin like Qi Li, along with the enablers abetting them like Brink and Shetty, had to be physically purged!
The murderous intent in Derek's eyes grew thick enough to choke on.
He refused to wait for the official start of the match.
"Die, you bastard!"
*Boom!*
Derek took a heavy stride forward, hurtling ahead like a heavy tank running at full throttle.
The stage floor, reinforced with meter-thick steel plating, gave way under his boot like soft mud, caving inward into a deep footprint.
With a ferocious roar, Derek pounced toward Qi Li.
Gasps and shouts instantly rippled across the stands.
In the blink of an eye, the silver iron man had already closed in on Qi Li, looking as if he was ready to tear him to shreds the very next second.
Qi Li wasn't surprised in the least by Derek's ambush.
To ordinary eyes, Derek's speed was terrifyingly swift, but in Qi Li's sight, it was merely average.
With a slight pivot of his foot, Qi Li slipped to the side, easily evading Derek's lunge.
Before Derek could even turn around, Qi Li clenched his fist. Amid the shrill shriek of the air straining under the sudden pressure, he threw a lightning-fast punch straight into Derek's chest.
Before the surrounding spectators could even make out what had happened, a deafening chime like a tolling bell reverberated through the entire arena, forcing people to clamp their hands over their ears.
Qi Li's fist slammed against Derek's silver-steel chest. At the moment of impact, the sound was like iron clashing violently against steel.
Yet despite such a thunderous collision, neither Derek's chest nor Qi Li's fist suffered the slightest injury—Qi Li's skin didn't even flush red.
"Die!"
Although Derek was unharmed, the blow still hurt.
He whipped around violently, his left arm sweeping across like a giant iron pendulum, churning up a howling gale in its wake.
Godkin University's Crime Fighting College offered specialized combat training courses.
While Derek lacked real-world combat experience, his stances and technique were textbook.
Qi Li didn't even bother looking; he simply lashed out with a kick.
*Bang!!*
Derek stumbled and crashed to his knees. The left arm he had swung at Qi Li slammed directly into the steel floor, twisting and snapping the reinforced metal like dough and instantly carving out an arm-length crater.
*Screeech—*
A grating screech of shearing metal echoed across the stage, setting everyone's teeth on edge.
Derek yanked his undamaged left arm out from beneath the floor, cursing venomously as he did:
"Coward! Spineless wimp! All you know how to do is jump around like a monkey—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a heavy fist connected squarely with his jaw.
Before his head could even snap back from the impact, another fist struck from the other side.
"Fuck!"
Humiliated and furious, Derek threw caution to the wind and lashed out directly at Qi Li with his left arm, which was still flecked with metal shavings.
This time, the blow didn't miss.
Except...
*Smack!*
Qi Li clamped his hand around Derek's incoming left arm in midair, locking it in an iron grip.
Before Derek's expression could even shift,
Qi Li gave him a faint smile, glanced down at the completely smooth metal between Derek's legs, and spoke for the first time since taking the stage:
"The Iron Unsullied."
Derek instantly snapped into a frantic fury.
Up in the stands.
Butcher, a battle-hardened veteran who had taken countless lives, looked down at the clash on stage. It wasn't particularly refined, but it was visually staggering. His expression darkened as he muttered,
"Two bastards who shouldn't exist in this world!"
To regular humans, superhumans were practically invincible "gods."
Beside him, Hughie's face went pale with lingering terror.
Watching the two superhumans trade blows on the stage, Hughie couldn't help but think back to Translucent, who had died at his own hands.
Only now did he truly understand just how lucky they had been to take down Translucent back then.
Just look at what those two were doing down there.
The steel plating on the ground was so thick that even if Hughie put every ounce of strength into a punch, he wouldn't leave a scratch—he'd only reduce his own fist to bloody pulp.
Yet at that moment, Qi Li's fingers sank straight into the steel plate as effortlessly as slicing through tofu.
Then, as if snapping out a rug—
Hughie's eyes went wide. He watched Qi Li give a violent yank with the hand embedded in the floor. The ground rippled like rolling waves, and amid a piercing screech of twisting metal, a massive, carpet-like strip of steel plating was torn clean out of the floor.
Derek, who had been charging across it, lost his footing and was forced to halt his momentum.
Then, Hughie watched as Qi Li hoisted the massive slab of steel—one larger than a grown man—high into the air.
*Wham! Wham! Wham!*
Like someone swatting a mosquito, he smashed it down over and over onto Derek's head.
Had that been him, Hughie figured he would have been pounded into meat paste on the very first strike.
At the thought, Hughie looked at Derek reeling dizzily under the onslaught, and couldn't help feeling a wave of deep pity for the "Pig-Riding Warrior."
Chapter 29