Chapter 129: Farewell, Cage!

Bang!

A violent impact sound.

The recoil force from the Iron Staff made Jiang Cheng's arm tingle.

Ah! Die for me! Die!

Lin Feng, looking frantic, gave his all, chopping down at Jiang Cheng blade after blade!

Since he could no longer live, he dragged Jiang Cheng along! The distance was so short that even if those two moved, there was still time! After chopping more than ten times in a row, he suddenly felt something was off.

He was a Level One Force Warrior, so even his blade speed was several notches faster than an ordinary person, let alone his strength, which was also above that of a normal human.

But why could this guy in front of him block everything?

After another chop was blocked, he stepped back two paces, the bloodshot in his eyes faded a bit, and staring at Jiang Cheng, he growled, "You, something's off, are you also a Force Warrior?"

That's right.

Jiang Cheng moved his wrist, which had gone numb from the shock.

The Short Staff's drawback is its huge recoil force, and unlike swords it lacks a hilt to grip.

"Like you, I'm also Level One."

"I knew it, I should've guessed earlier."

He glared resentfully at the two people behind Jiang Cheng.

If Jiang Cheng were just an ordinary person, how could those two be standing there watching with open eyes?

He felt a deep sense of humiliation, being toyed with and powerless.

"Looks like you've lost your fighting spirit."

Jiang Cheng, seeing this, showed disappointment in his eyes.

It was still his first clash with a Force Warrior; wanting to gain more experience, he chose to defend rather than attack.

Now.

He lunged forward in a single stride, his wrist drawing a half-circle, then smashed a staff toward the opponent's chest.

"Come on, die together!"

Lin Feng laughed heartily, not dodging at all, chopping a blade toward Jiang Cheng's neck.

!

The two behind showed a slight change in expression.

Bang!

A sound of impact.

Jiang Cheng's left-hand staff blocked the opponent's long sword, and his right-hand staff immediately smashed the sword‑wielder's hand.

The attack principle of the Short Staff seemed etched into his mind; how could he break the discipline by not striking the opponent's sword‑hand and instead targeting vital points?

It was just a feint earlier.

Ah!

The excruciating pain in his hand made Lin Feng let out a wail.

But soon he could no longer scream.

Jiang Cheng's dual staffs fluttered, striking the opponent's chest again and again.

Bang bang bang bang bang bang!!!

Each staff strike broke several ribs.

Later on, it shattered them into pieces.

Lin Feng's body convulsed violently, blood spurted from his mouth, and after enduring over a hundred staff blows, he went "thud" and fell.

His wide‑open eyes seemed to proclaim his disbelief.

He actually died at the hands of a snot‑nosed brat.

Jiang Cheng exhaled, and the pent‑up gloom in his heart dissipated by more than half.

"Indeed, hearing about it isn't as good as seeing it."

Hong Cha's voice came, "Cang Hai, your Short Staff skill isn't low." "Hong Cha big brother, you flatter me."

Jiang Cheng turned, smiling at the two, "My modest cultivation is truly nothing worth mentioning."

"Hehe, no need to belittle yourself."

Hong Cha walked over, patted his shoulder, "If I were also Level One, I still wouldn't be confident of a steady win over you. As for Ye Ying, hehe, people like us who follow the flesh path have a natural disadvantage against equal‑level Spiritual Thought Masters. Moreover, Ye Ying's comprehension is extremely high; among equal‑level Spiritual Thought Masters, she's among the elite, so you needn't compare with her."

"Natural disadvantage?" Jiang Cheng asked curiously.

"Yes, you saw Ye Ying's move just now. We have to get close to strike, but she doesn't. Her attack range is far greater, and because her weapon is a Steel Needle—lightweight and extremely fast—the impact is astonishing. With a tiny contact area, the strike is even more terrifying. If you find it hard to grasp, think of our Force Warrior attacks as missiles and the Spiritual Thought Master's attacks as armor‑piercing rounds."

"I understand."

Jiang Cheng smiled.

"Good that you understand."

Hong Cha glanced at the corpses on the ground, then at the surroundings, and said, "It's getting late; we should leave. Cang Hai, you needn't be too sad—perhaps future missions will give you a chance to return."

"Alright, I'll go get the luggage now."

Jiang Cheng entered the house and took out a box he had prepared long ago.

The three walked along the alley, and after a short while they boarded a car heading toward the Outer City District.

Jiang Cheng sat in the back seat, watching the Poor District scenery rush away rapidly, and suddenly felt a freedom like a bird soaring into the blue sky and a fish diving into the sea.

The next moment he snapped back to reality.

Even temporarily leaving the Poor District doesn't mean escaping the cage; after all, who knows if the Outer City District might be another prison? Moreover, for Yan Nation people living on this planet, it is a massive cage.

Being happy now is still premature.

Jiang Cheng took a deep breath.

Farewell for now, Poor District.

But I'll still have a day to come back.

……

A full hour passed, and around Jiang Cheng's home, no one dared to step out of the door.

Terrifying! Too terrifying!

Thirty to forty people, all dead!

Even from dozens of meters away, they could smell that nauseating scent of blood.

Yet they never actually saw how those people died.

No, except for one person—the last guy—no one expected that Jiang Cheng, who usually seemed harmless to both people and animals, would dare to kill! And he killed members of the Iron Fist Gang!

They even began to doubt whether they were hallucinating.

Was that person really Jiang Cheng?

Until the Iron Fist Gang members, after a long time without seeing their leader return with men, came to check the situation; seeing this scene, several of them were so frightened they fell and sat on the ground, their minds blank.

Afterwards, people kept arriving one after another, hauling away the corpses, and some knocked on doors one by one, asking what had happened.

No one dared to hide anything; they recounted everything they had seen, in full detail.

The remaining Iron Fist Gang members seemed to develop a psychological scar of this place; after learning the information they wanted, they left in a hurry.

And the incident spread like wildfire—one to ten, ten to a hundred—at an astonishing speed throughout the Poor District; in less than an hour, every street and alley was buzzing about it.

The rumors grew ever more absurd.

At first it was only said that Jiang Cheng killed one person.

Then it was said Jiang Cheng killed over ten.

Later, it was said Jiang Cheng killed dozens!

At the end, the tales became even more outlandish: some said Jiang Cheng glared, scaring dozens to death; others claimed his roar killed dozens; still others said Jiang Cheng knew demonic arts, and with a wave of his hand, dozens died instantly.

The news kept spreading until it reached the Flying Eagle Martial Arts Hall.

(End of chapter)