Chapter 384: The Little Brother Who Has No Food to Eat

B's steps were very odd; the Raging Wind Fist glided along the ground and somehow passed through, as if B were a phantom. "Advancing, retreating, like arranging flowers, this is basically the Plum Blossom Stance footwork." As an old sparrow who had studied the fist scriptures, Bai Lang naturally recognized the technique. It is the traditional martial‑arts Plum Blossom Stance, and judging by his footwork, hand movements, and overall posture.

"I get it," Bai Lang muttered. "He's actually doing a lion dance; those hands are gripping a lion's head, and the footwork is the lion's step." Seeing through it, he knew that lion dance is also a martial art. Bai Lang entered the King of Fighters tournament precisely to witness the many styles of martial skill. The lion dance before him was one such style—normally its spectacle far outweighs its combat value, and training it is meant for performance—but now—Big B's two fists came together and released.

"Lion Bullet!" A head‑sized Qi Gong Wave shot out, and from the front it vaguely resembled a lion's head. Accompanying the wave was a roar that tore the air, truly like a lion charging. Bai Lang turned his back outward and blocked the strike with his forearm—he also wanted to feel its power. Well, it was a normal wave; hitting the arm he protected with Qi only caused a slight ripple in his own Qi.

Its power was the same as the Raging Wind Fist.

Since he knew Big B could emit waves, Bai Lang had no interest in keeping distance to trade waves; he closed in to launch an attack. He wanted to test the striking and throwing techniques of this lion‑dance art. "Maybe it's like my Tiger Form, a lion‑style within the shape‑forming fists?" Yet what would a lion‑style look like? Bai Lang really had no idea—how would it differ from a tiger?

A lion's combat power is indeed lower than a tiger's—but that's in the animal world; in the concept of fist styles, a lion is probably a different beast altogether, even its image isn't that of a real lion. "Lion's Furious Rush!" Big B shouted, and Bai Lang keenly noticed the Lala Team onstage forming the figure of Guan Er Ye while burning incense… As expected, that Big B truly lived up to being a martial artist who passed the first round of the finals; his skill was genuinely stronger than those three trashers from Brazil.

Why did it feel as if a lion's head exploded onto his body? Bai Lang seemed to swallow a mouthful of saliva; the sunflower lion head was indeed huge and fierce, and with the Lion's Roar, B's punches and kicks suddenly became more than twice as heavy, carrying a shocking impact. Each strike bore the Ultimate Secret of the lion's roar, directly rattling Bai Lang's Qi, causing his Qi to disperse on its own, and the martial‑arts stance became hard to maintain.

"So it's a defense‑breaking strike," Bai Lang thought, and stopped caring. Since Qi could no longer block it, he would simply counter with raw flesh power. One punch for another, who would be at a loss was uncertain. Having cultivated the Golden Bell Shield, Bai Lang had forged his bones, flesh, skin, and organs like steel and iron; ordinary Qi‑infused blows he could still endure—he was essentially over‑spec, the world could suppress his martial‑skill output, but his bodily cultivation could not be fully suppressed.

Relying solely on his bodily punches and kicks, Bai Lang was not at a disadvantage in this round of brawling. Big B's strikes were short, explosive bursts; his kicks never rose above the knee, and his punches were also short‑range bursts—a typical Southern style. Bai Lang's fist technique opened wide and ferocious, especially his leg attacks, which were razor‑sharp; the Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist was not just about fists—its claws were its most terrifying weapons.

So Big B took a hit; after Bai Lang waited for the Lion's Furious Rush ultimate move to pass, he unleashed a burst of Qi, flipping his double claws to tear Big B apart—this was his Eight Girl technique, now combined with leg attacks. Bai Lang's left and right claws ripped alternately two or three times, then the double claws formed an X and slashed a bright arc from top to bottom; Big B's blood erupted, his body went into stiffness, and at that moment Bai Lang's leg struck.

Unlike the previous super‑ultimate formed by consecutive leg techniques, the "Astonishing Death Finale," and unlike the earlier "How many moves are forbidden? Eight Girl," this attack uses both hands and feet together—claws, elbows, hips, and legs alternate, ending with a triple‑spinning kick that follows up with a White Tiger Cannon… This is the Caesar Wave; now Bai Lang renames it White Tiger Cannon, essentially a completely unprincipled move.

The final White Tiger Cannon announced the end of this super‑ultimate. Normally a special move's name isn't changed, but Bai Lang's occasional chūn‑ish variations show he doesn't take it seriously. One moment it's Caesar Wave, the next it's White Tiger Cannon, yet the Raging Wind Fist remains unchanged. After taking the full brunt, Big B was blasted far away, leaving a trail of blood that spilled outside the ring's boundary rope.

So that counts as a loss, right? Bai Lang thought carefully; the King of Fighters rules seem similar to WWE—leaving the ring doesn't count as a loss, you have to stay outside for a while before you're considered defeated. "Looking at B like that, he probably can't get back up." The lion‑dance technique is clearly limited; if the Lion's Furious Rush doesn't crush the opponent in time, its own weakness appears—being seized by Bai Lang and turned into a blast.

Bai Lang's body also bore bruises; his Qi circulation was still hampered by the lion's influence, not flowing smoothly. As for his health bar, it seemed to have lost about a quarter.

The second opponent was East Star Wuya Ge; Wuya Ge had been sitting below in boxing gear watching the match. Suddenly a group of underlings appeared, set up a table for the big brother Wuya, laying out food and drinks. The underlings had just sat down when the big brother stood up and flipped the table… Big B had lost, and Wuya, in a bad mood, also flipped the table. Wuya looked at the dead‑dog‑like Big B, spat—don't be fooled by his appearance, he's actually a good person, preparing to avenge Big B.

When the table was up, the boxing gear exploded into shredded strips under the burst of Qi. Wuya's hands held no gloves, just fists wrapped tightly with bandages. He adopted a Muay Thai stance, fists one forward, one back, the front foot lightly touching the ground. Once both entered the arena, Wuya wasted no words and launched an energy front kick, a straight thrust with Qi that surged forward. Well, this guy is a hard‑hitting, aggressive type.

Bai Lang also blocked and countered; his opponent's style was a blend of many schools—a sort of Sanda. Boxing, Muay Thai, Karate, and perhaps even Savate, according to Bai Lang. Primarily it was a synthesis of those arts. Moreover, Wuya truly lived up to his name, able to unleash a Tornado wave at zero distance; Bai Lang suspected he might be a senior brother of the Eastern Sect. The Tornado's finish was extremely fast, making it hard for Bai Lang to catch any frame‑rate flaw.