Chapter 382

On the flight back to Ri Ben, Bai Lang sat on the sofa by the porthole, moving his arm. He looked at his arm tightly wrapped and fixed with bandages, began to clench his fist and move it, "Very good, indeed nothing abnormal." At that moment he recalled the words of his thief‑partner military advisor master, "Breathing method? Isn't it just the Saiyan breathing method?"

He remembered that the latter half of this breathing method was completely different from the first half; Bai Lang had never figured it out nor seriously practiced it—because the rhythm and movements were very strange, and he hadn't noticed any increase in his combat power, on the contrary it would disrupt the flow of his own Internal Force.

Now that his arm was broken and he couldn't practice external martial arts on the plane, he suddenly recalled this breathing method again. If one has a sudden inspiration, why not give it a try? Bai Lang believed his sudden recollection of this thing wasn't without reason. Let's try it—maybe it will produce some remarkable effect.

Then the somewhat dissatisfied Taozi and Ban Tian, two tools, saw the already 1.85‑meter Bai Lang start twisting his body into a strange pose. He was naturally muscular, yet this twist suddenly gave him a yin‑like beauty, yang and yin complementing each other, but the two women only thought of that butt compared to Pretado...

"Pose equals strength? I remember that thing had some scribbled dog‑scratch writing on it...... In other words, I am an Innate Expert and also an external expert, my joints are supple and free; otherwise, if someone else tried this now they'd probably have snapped several bones and dislocated several joints! This pose truly isn't something a normal person could do." Maintaining that peculiar balance, Bai Lang kept muttering under his breath.

"Breathe according to the special rhythm," Bai Lang thought, and so he began to breathe as he remembered the method. A strange ripple surged in his blood, "Huh?! A ripple! Add this pose? White ripple surges!" Bai Lang's arm made a crackling sound, the bones fully knit together at the same time the wrapped bandages burst open, and his muscles bulged.

Naturally, due to the ripples surging through his body, Bai Lang shifted into another pose that looked quite feminine yet was also full of masculine beauty—indeed, pose equals strength, this power like the sun in the sky directly healed Bai Lang's injuries completely. After moving his body a bit, Bai Lang discovered another benefit of the pose, "It can effectively move every muscle and every bone, right? I get it, I get it."

In short, under the gaze of the two female assistants, Bai Lang simply sat back down on the sofa, picked up a book and flipped through it casually. There were flight attendants on the plane, but it really wasn't a good moment to rush over and pester Bai Lang—although most of those attendants were probably just taking advantage as well...

Bai Lang read for a while, then began idly surfing the net, and he discovered he had indeed become famous. As a team originally expected to only play a round‑robin, Bai Lang took on three opponents and defeated the Brazilian Carnival team, raising his own standing to a considerably high level—on par with the main players of those famous invitation teams.

His combat power had been hyped to a respectable height, so the so‑called Ri Ben team's Kusanagi‑Kyō was considered about the same—this is according to an analysis site run by foreigners; within Ri Ben he still falls short of the already‑famous Kusanagi‑Kyō, even if Kusanagi‑Kyō had been held back several years, and even though they are both first‑year high schoolers, fast‑approaching twenty, this guy hardly ever attended school.

In the foreigners' commentary, Bai Lang's level was seen as comparable to Andy Bergard, making him a secondary‑tier expert among such wildcard squads—indeed, Kusanagi‑Kyō's level is viewed the same way by foreigners. Because of the martial arts he displayed, Bai Lang was called a versatile flying‑technique specialist—being able to grasp so many different kinds of flying techniques is no ordinary feat...

Ordinary martial artists, even if they are on invitation teams, usually have only one or two flying killing techniques; most people have just a single flying technique, plus a super killing technique evolved from a basic flying technique. But it seems that Bai Lang's display of at least three or four different flying techniques is indeed rare.

"So they didn't notice my striking technique? Come to think of it, I haven't shown my grappling technique yet! I'm very confident in my grappling." Bai Lang laughed while reading the website's analysis of him—actually, his grappling isn't completely unknown; he's only managed about three or four of its aspects. The Tiger Form of the tiger's fist isn't just about striking and tearing; otherwise it's a tiger‑jaw clench that pierces the heart and shatters the brain. Nanto Holy Fist fits the point, rarely resembling a giant python's constriction on an opponent.

He was just being stubborn.

Bai Lang's type would naturally be impossible to take up weapons now—this isn't a Samurai Spirits tournament, the place is full of barbarians who haven't committed any major crime, and Bai Shaobao isn't a blood‑thirsty person. However, the King of Fighters tournament really does have such shameless characters—and they're all Western barbarians. For example, a guy called Gao Billy used a stick, and there was also an older brother who had once competed using double sticks. Rumor has it there was also a shameless person who once used a fruit knife...

By comparison, Street Fighter is practically the paragon of virtue—although someone may be beaten to death, it's always by fists and feet, and truly no one uses weapons in Street Fighter matches. Oh, among those killed in Street Fighter there is the barbarian who dressed as a Japanese samurai with ten‑handed gear. Both the King of Fighters website and the Street Fighter website have dedicated pages memorializing martial artists who died in competition.

Bai Lang was browsing this page, which also listed past competitors. "What a lot of overlap in the list." As he sighed, a brand‑new page suddenly popped up, "King of Fighters vs. Street Fighter! The world's top‑tier professional fighting tournament!" Bai Lang sat up straight, "They've merged! Quick, let's check the rules!"

Without a doubt, Street Fighter won the final victory, the format being individual matches. And in the blink of an eye the page froze, traffic possibly reaching hundreds of millions within a few seconds. Fortunately Bai Lang immediately got a phone call saying he had been listed as a participant, "To unsubscribe, reject, press 1…" Bai Lang silently hung up.

The flight would be long, Bai Lang was full of spirit yet this time he couldn't sleep, showing the effect of short‑term jet lag, something even martial artists can't actually avoid. Actually, martial artists really don't need to adjust for time differences at all, and Bai Lang now understood that—he thought adjusting for jet lag wasn't necessary, while the two women simply fell into a deep sleep, they were the ones truly affected.

"So don'tsay other worlds are inferior to the one I transmigrated to—actually every world can let me grow. I've realized I just need to follow my own pace, watch the sky and act, never mind the time differences! I'm already a superman!" Bai Lang felt he must from now on examine himself three times a day; he'd certainly learn a lot, at least not end up like his master, who going to jail is just like going home.

Just as he thought of that, in the dim depths he somehow felt that something was happening...