Chapter 137: Fragile Defeat

"Although it's all public information, you still put in thought. Thanks." Bai Lang said this. As a member of the martial arts club of a certain university in the Capital, Fang Zhibei, who had passed the first round, his martial arts were certainly not lacking; his Cloud-Sorting Palm was fully powered, although there was no palm force that permeated like mist, his palm techniques were endlessly variable and their power was certainly not small. "He really can't do it; do you know martial arts? Not really? Then it would be hard to explain to you. Still, thanks."

After saying that, Bai Lang left the woman Tian Li and went back on his own. "It's a pity; perhaps originally it truly was turning the Void-Splitting Palm force into mist, but now it can only be turning palm technique into mist. This should be the result of successive inheritors constantly improving it." Bai Lang pondered this possible conclusion, feeling no concern or regard for Fang Zhibei at all.

The venue for this match was an indoor sports field inside Jinzhou City, with over a thousand seats. This sports field is like others: the surface wooden floor can be moved, while underneath is a hollow concrete pedestal—there's no way to accommodate martial arts matches; a wooden floor would be too costly. Concrete just needs to be poured and patched; if really impossible, breaking it up and re-laying is also convenient.

Spectators had already entered; the tickets for this match were not sold to the outside, the viewers were martial artists from the Northeast Three Provinces and the Capital, of course there was a televised broadcast—should be visible in the weekly match highlights. Bai Lang had already donned his Daoist robe and was waiting in the lounge; the opponent had also arrived early and was ready to start the fight.

There was no idle chatter; Bai Lang glanced and, not surprisingly, saw Tian Li sitting in the front row—this woman, although she was shrewdly maneuvering among several men, still couldn't think of some things, for example, if Bai Lang hadn't asked the organizing committee for a ticket, Tian Li wouldn't even have gotten in, let alone cheered. Bai Lang dismissed it and now focused his attention on Fang Zhibei before him.

Sure enough, he was a northern man, broad-shouldered and stout, tall, a bit taller than Bai Lang. His physique resembled a refrigerator: short, thick neck basically a trapezoid, little difference between waist and chest circumference. This build is typical of a fierce general, belonging to an extremely strong physique. His weight must be close to 250 jin, making him a heavyweight compared to Bai Lang—fortunately the martial arts league has no weight classes, otherwise these two could never stand on the stage together.

Neither side had anything to say; Bai Lang simply couldn't be bothered to utter harsh words, while the opposite side seemed comparatively taciturn. At the referee's command, the two rushed forward and began fighting. Fang Zhibei exhaled and shouted, his voice like thunderclaps, while his palm technique piled up layer upon layer like surging cloud waves—each palm added force, and in a short time he unleashed over ten palms that spread before him like a calamitous cloud, pressing toward Bai Lang.

"Originally just one palm would have sufficed...... who let the martial arts be no good?" Bai Lang sighed, his two claws interlocked and instantly turned into a tiger's pounce, lunging forward. No matter how the palm force turned into a calamitous cloud, a tiger's claw tore it apart. Bai Lang's claws, bearing a fierce wind, broke through Fang Zhibei's palm momentum, but Fang Zhibei's killing move wasn't in that cloud at all; it was the palm that followed immediately after.

This palm drew on the previous palm force to gather momentum; with a single clap, his entire internal force surged forth. "One Clap, Two Dispersals!" Bai Lang chuckled, realizing that Fang Zhibei must have studied his first fight—that's the normal line of thought, studying your opponent. It seems that his kind of laziness to even look is actually the minority, right? Now Fang Zhibei obviously placed himself on the weaker side, coming out with an all-out burst, hoping to exchange moves with Bai Lang.

"If all internal force is gathered in one palm, maybe you'd win?" Bai Lang could anticipate the opponent's psychology, but he had no obligation to comply. This palm couldn't be dodged; momentum clashed, palm force locked on—one couldn't say this classmate Fang is a complete weakling; on the contrary, his internal force and palm technique have been trained quite well. Never mind, just throw a straight punch and blast him.

Bai Lang also exhaled and shouted, "Hah!" holding his breath, gathering the qi into his chest and abdomen; then likewise his internal force surged out, the internal force of the Golden Bell Cover turning his fist into a heavy hammer, a punch striking the "One Clap, Two Dispersals" palm force. This strike seemed to make the air itself "bang" explode, and the ground directly showed a crack. Unlike Fang Zhibei's motion pausing, Bai Lang smoothly retracted his fist, then launched another punch with his other hand.

It stopped on Fang Zhibei's forehead, "Bai Lang wins!" the referee shouted, while Fang Zhibei had already passed out. Blood seeped from half his arm—the force of that punch not only rebounded against his palm force but also added Bai Lang's punch power, so it's quite normal for Fang Zhibei's arm bone to fracture and capillaries burst. Moreover, this internal force surged back and forth, its shock having shaken his bones and meridians throughout his body; passing out is also quite normal.

This exchange was truly too fast—over in the blink of an eye, like a rabbit rising and a falcon falling. Fang Zhibei threw out over ten palms, but they were only short bursts of explosion; Bai Lang merely tore and then punched, the final punch being just for show. If tickets were sold, people would probably shout for refunds, but everyone present was practically a martial artist; even those with little skill could get pointers from their elders. "This is just a single move deciding victory and defeat. That Bai Lang is far stronger than Fang Zhibei, so one move finishes it."

Of course, if Fang Zhibei had landed a hit, he would likely have won quickly...... there's probably that possibility, but after the match everyone reviewing it thought it unlikely.

"Thanks, thanks." Bai Lang clasped his hands; that should be the gesture. He rarely engaged in martial arts exchanges before, mostly just killing people. But Fang Zhibei didn't know anymore, having been lifted away while unconscious.

Tian Li laughed and jumped like a little girl; perhaps at this moment her expression was sincere, but Bai Lang merely smiled back and raised a thumb in a victory gesture. Afterwards, returning to Magic City by high-speed rail, they went together—it seems Bai Lang's victory strengthened some resolve in this woman—Bai Lang also noticed, so he pretended to sleep and act dumb throughout, as long as Tian Li didn't throw a straight ball, he also didn't prepare to speak.

"Otherwise this would be embarrassing; besides, Bai Lang even wanted to play the role of a simpering suitor's counterattack. 'Just to the point, just to the point. Anyway, it's just losing a bit of money, being looked down upon...... but now cutting off her thoughts like this also counts as revenge.'"

After returning to Magic City, the next round's matchup list also came out—starting from this round, the whole competition scene will be completely different. Because of the single-elimination system, after two rounds, those with bad luck and low martial arts will basically be eliminated, leaving only those with special skills, the strong. Starting from this round, there will be live broadcasts, and the venue will become a bit more standardized...... Speaking of which, Bai Lang also thinks this is quite fair, because the league's individual competition simply has no seeded player system.