Chapter 59: Fist Strike Guanxi! Kick Down Benqi! Heaven and Earth—Only I Am the Seventh!

Riding a borrowed motorcycle, he raced for over an hour, bursting into the central hall of the Southern Dipper Dojo under the watchful eyes of countless Arhats and Bodhisattvas.

He took one look at the scene inside and instantly lost all control of his rage, roaring at the unmoving eldest son of the Northern Dipper seated directly ahead.

“Lao, what the hell have you done!”

His sudden intrusion drew every eye—even the two combatants halted their fight and turned toward the intruder who had disrupted their duel.

Lao’s expression darkened at being openly rebuked.

“Utter nonsense.”

He slowly rose to his feet, his aura swelling like a titan stretching heaven and earth, filling the entire hall with a mountainous might and surging energy that resembled a colossal tidal wave ready to overturn the world and drown all in its path.

“You… Jia Ji? When did you arrive?”

But before Lao could speak, someone beside him gasped in shock—it was Duo Qi, the very person Jia Ji had been searching for but failed to find.

“Don’t you know the Southern Dipper’s rule—that any outsider who dares challenge must be exterminated to the last?” Jia Ji glared at his second brother, only to see shock etched on his face.

“What!”

Of course, if Duo Qi had known, he would never have brought Ken Shi Lang here to participate in the Ten-Man Gauntlet.

This was a unique trial of the Southern Dipper Dojo—essentially, a continuous battle.

Without any recovery of health, the challenger must fight ten opponents in succession, each unknown—possibly weak, possibly strong, even absurdly powerful!

When Jia Ji burst in, Ken Shi Lang was already locked in a brutal fight with his seventh opponent.

The man across from him towered over Jia Ji in height and possessed decades of experience; his unceasing training in Southern Dipper Fist had hardened his bare palms into razor-sharp weapons, their chops, strikes, slices, and drills more lethal than any blade.

Having never faced a fist style focused on “cutting,” Ken Shi Lang was now on the brink of death, his body riddled with wounds, blood streaming down his limbs as he stood, the floor littered with chaotic, flower-like streaks of crimson.

Yet his tenacity surpassed all expectations—his trained fist technique was solid, his strength unyielding, and victory was slowly tilting toward him; his triumph now seemed inevitable.

Had he kept winning like this, Jia Ji would not have been so enraged—but that assumed he *could* win.

Could he win?

No.

Jia Ji preferred calling this “Southern Dipper Duel Ten-Chain” rather than “Southern Dipper Ten-Man Gauntlet,” because no one could possibly survive it.

Perhaps by sheer accident, Lao had brought Ken Shi Lang here to challenge, thinking to send their youngest, smallest brother through the trial to crush the Southern Dipper’s morale and prove the supremacy of Northern Dipper Fist.

But he didn’t know this trial would inevitably end in failure—and the consequence of failure? Death. Absolutely certain death.

Not long ago, to preserve the Southern Dipper’s honor, the trial’s host—the Southern Dipper Phoenix Fist heir, Thouter—had issued a direct order: kill every challenger. No one would be allowed to pass.

What was meant to be a controlled, point-ending trial had become a fight to the death.

And precisely now, the Northern Dipper—a sect long rivaling the Southern Dipper’s thousand branches—sent someone to challenge. Whether coincidence or not, it was a blatant provocation, stomping on the Southern Dipper’s face.

If the ten-year-old Ken Shi Lang defeated the first nine opponents, Thouter would personally step in, crushing the child with overwhelming force to teach him the eternal truth: no one ever survives the Ten-Chain.

Once he moved, he would show no mercy—he would take Ken Shi Lang’s life without hesitation.

Jia Ji didn’t know what Lao was thinking, whether he knew or not—but no matter what, he would not let their youngest brother face a trial of life and death!

“What brother would send his brother to die?”

Stubborn, foolish—Lao was now the most senseless elder brother on earth. Jia Ji wanted to put a bullet straight through his forehead to snap him awake.

“Ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Hmm hmm hmm ha ha ha!”

“Wah ha ha ha ha!”

Three bursts of laughter erupted suddenly, each more arrogant and brazen than the last. The golden-haired man, who had been lounging with one arm on the armrest and his right fist pressed to his cheek, shifted his posture at this sibling drama, crossing his arms over his chest, a smirk curling his lips as he watched with keen interest.

He sported a bright gold buzzcut that gleamed even in the dim, solemn hall, wore a tight dark-blue suit, a long cloak with white outside and red inside draped over his shoulders, and knee-high metal greaves on his legs.

He wasn’t particularly tall—barely matching Jia Ji’s height—but his sculpted, flawless muscles still carved sharp contours beneath his clothes, and his aura, like a proud phoenix, was the only one in the hall capable of standing equal to Lao’s.

This man was, of course, the strongest of the Six Holy Ones of the Southern Dipper—the future [Holy Emperor] Thouter!

His destiny star was the [General], the ferocious star commanding the Southern Dipper’s conquest of heaven and earth!

It was the smallest of all 88 constellations, located between Centaurus and Musca—the [Southern Cross (Crucis)]!

The Southern Cross lies directly in the southern sky, easily recognizable; sailors in the north use the Big Dipper and Polaris to find north, but in the southern hemisphere, they rely on the Southern Cross to find south.

Thus, the Southern Cross, standing opposite the Big Dipper at the other pole of the heavens, was also called the Pole Star! Among the Southern Dipper, it was the most fierce, a steadfast and courageous star symbolizing might and dominion over death.

Thouter’s destiny star was precisely this General Star!

“What’s so funny!”

This wasn't a fighting game. Though this man, always grinning with dark exaggeration, was powerful, he remained at the "Fierce Rank" level—not the divine "God Supreme." Jia Ji had no fear of him.

He didn’t just fear him—he was furious! Enraged! Incensed!

In the original story, it was the Southern Dipper’s Benevolent Star, Xiu Wu, who blinded himself to save Ah Quan’s life—but Jia Ji saw no such man here.

His own interference had drastically altered the worldline.

And why must Xiu Wu lose his sight?

His sacrifice could have been prevented!

So Jia Ji was furious at himself for forgetting this detail, enraged at Lao’s stupidity, and incensed at Thouter’s mocking laughter!

Brutally inserting himself between the two opposing men, Jia Ji scooped up his much shorter brother under one arm, his narrow, cruel, venomous eyes sweeping the entire hall—every Southern Dipper disciple watching, every one poised to strike—and declared:

“I’m taking him out today. I dare any of you to stop me!”

“Fist strike Guanxi! Kick down Benqi! Heaven and earth—only I am the Seventh!” refers to Thouter’s record in Mugen… the man who stood atop God Supreme! Seventh! Seventh!

“Duel Ten-Chain”—in homage to the legendary veteran child

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(End of Chapter)