Chapter 22: The Way to Victory

Chen Dahu and Facing Facing Cang Luo covered their eyes, losing their sight, readying themselves.

After the Zhuang family's referee gave the order, Chen Dahu roared loudly, activated his body technique and Tiger Subduing Fist, and rushed swiftly toward the spot he remembered Facing Facing Cang Luo to be.

Chen Dahu's fists whipped through the air with a low, growling roar, lunging at Facing Facing Cang Luo like a starving tiger about to pounce, determined to tear him apart and crush him.

"Boom—boom..."

Chen Dahu's iron fists slammed down with crushing force, striking the solid training ground and carving out two pits the size of watermelons in the hard yellow earth.

"Hmph! Lucky you."

Chen Dahu missed, but he expected it—he knew no fool would stand still.

Those two punches, had they landed on Facing Facing Cang Luo, would likely have shattered him; too bad they didn't connect.

To conserve Qi, Chen Dahu temporarily halted the Tiger Subduing Fist, held his hands high and low before his chest, and listened intently for Facing Facing Cang Luo's movements.

The watching disciples fell silent in sync with Chen Dahu, aiding his search for Facing Facing Cang Luo.

After all, most disciples still hoped he'd win—they'd placed bets!

Who doesn't want to win money?

Some disciples even gestured wildly without sound, desperate to shout out Facing Facing Cang Luo's location so Chen Dahu could win quickly.

Facing Facing Cang Luo watched their actions through the satellite, sneering inwardly.

Hah! You blind fools—I'll bankrupt you.

Chen Dahu listened to sounds to locate his target; so did Facing Facing Cang Luo.

Chen Dahu might genuinely have this ability, but Facing Facing Cang Luo was faking it—occasionally clenching his teeth to make his ears twitch, pretending to be impressive.

He couldn't act like he could see, could he?

The temporary arena formed by the watching disciples was a circle about ten meters in diameter; Chen Dahu moved freely within it, pacing back and forth, his footsteps rustling softly.

Whenever he neared the human wall, a disciple would whisper to him that this was the arena's edge; upon hearing it, he'd change direction to search for Facing Facing Cang Luo.

Facing Facing Cang Luo did not move rapidly like Chen Dahu—he remained calm and composed, always maintaining a safe distance of over five meters from Chen Dahu.

Fortunately, the ground was yellow earth; wearing soft-soled dark blue cloth shoes, Facing Facing Cang Luo walked without making a sound.

Facing Facing Cang Luo occasionally moved closer to Chen Dahu, then suddenly retreated as if hearing something, yet never approached the human wall.

He feared the watching disciples might give him away with hints, letting Chen Dahu hear and pinpoint his position.

With the satellite's real-time surveillance, Facing Facing Cang Luo was already invincible—that was why he proposed the blindfolded duel.

Facing Facing Cang Luo had read "The Three Essentials of Warriors," knowing only those who reached Wu Ling could perceive their surroundings and targets with Qi awareness, and only after reaching Wu Wang could they actively project Qi awareness to search for targets.

Facing Facing Cang Luo was a Wu Shi—he could not perceive targets with Qi awareness.

That's why he pretended to listen intently, making everyone believe he possessed the extraordinary skill of sound-based positioning, not some other ability to evade Chen Dahu, to avoid exposing the satellite.

"Look, that kid seems to have exceptional hearing—he's always kept a safe distance from Brother Chen. Has he trained some special technique?"

"I noticed too. No wonder he requested a blindfolded duel—he truly has an advantage."

"Will he just keep dodging forever? Coward! Waste!"

"He won't. He's probably waiting for the right moment to strike. They're already enemies—this duel is just the beginning; there'll be many more days ahead."

He won't pass up this chance to defeat Brother Chen, because next time, Chen won't agree to a blindfolded duel."

"So Facing Facing Cang Luo might win? Damn it, my Qi stones—Brother Chen, smash that waste..."

Disciples who bet on Chen Dahu's victory began to stir nervously, fearing they'd lose money.

Some clever disciples began shouting loudly to cheer, trying to disrupt Facing Facing Cang Luo's hearing and indirectly aid Chen Dahu.

Though dishonorable, it didn't break the duel rules—too bad it had no effect on Facing Facing Cang Luo.

He was watching with a "God's-eye view," not listening with his ears.

In contrast to those supporting Chen Dahu were the few disciples who bet on Facing Facing Cang Luo's win, along with Zang Feng and others.

Besides them, one more person hoped Facing Facing Cang Luo would win: the duel's referee, who was also the bookmaker of this betting pool.

If Facing Facing Cang Luo won, the bookmaker could make a huge profit.

If Facing Facing Cang Luo lost, it didn't matter—his gang could afford the loss; the odds were low, only 1.05.

The winning disciples were happy, and he wasn't upset—he was happy to pay out.

Because it boosted his gang's prestige, attracting more disciples to join, strengthening the gang's power and increasing membership fees, and establishing a trustworthy reputation for future larger betting events.

Facing Facing Cang Luo sighed in relief when he saw no one suspected how he avoided Chen Dahu's searches.

That meant it was time to counterattack.

So, before everyone's eyes, Facing Facing Cang Luo pulled from his sleeve a pebble the size of a quail's egg.

Facing Facing Cang Luo carried over thirty such pebbles in his sleeve—collected secretly along the way, known only to Zang Feng.

"When did Brother Cang pick up these stones? Planning to throw them at Chen Dahu?" Li Zhanxing frowned at the pebble in Facing Facing Cang Luo's hand.

Liu Xuande's eyes lit up and he smiled: "Of course! Brother Cang's sound-based positioning combined with pebble ambushes might actually win."

Pebbles do little damage, but constant drops wear through stone!"

"Ah! Can we still place bets?"

Yun Jiao, hearing Liu Xuande's words, finally relaxed completely, her gaze fixed firmly on Facing Facing Cang Luo.

Suddenly, she didn't think Facing Facing Cang Luo was so useless—he lacked cultivation but used wit...

Liu Xuande and the others were delighted, while those who bet on Facing Facing Cang Luo's loss raged, accusing him of treachery and using concealed weapons.

Fortunately, the referee stepped forward and shouted them down: "I already stated the only rule of this duel: do not remove your blindfold."

"I never said weapons were forbidden. Besides, a pebble the size of a copper coin counts as a concealed weapon?"

No one could refute the referee's words—they could only warn Chen Dahu to be careful.

A few disciples, furious over heavy bets, tried to reveal Facing Facing Cang Luo's position to Chen Dahu—but Zang Feng and the referee dealt with them immediately.

Zang Feng relied on martial strength; the referee relied on his gang's backing—over fifty percent of its members were Wu Jiang cultivators.

Chen Dahu didn't take the others' warnings to heart; he sneered, "Hmph! Weaklings are always weaklings, resorting to lowdown tricks. My skin's like copper and my bones like iron... Ouch!"

Before Chen Dahu could finish speaking, a pebble from Facing Facing Cang Luo struck his bald head squarely, scraping his scalp and drawing a few streaks of blood.

This pebble throw came from a Warrior Stage 3—its power was immense; if Chen Dahu were an Earthling, the pebble would've pierced straight through his skull.

"Copper skin and iron bones? Seems pretty painful, doesn't it?"

Facing Facing Cang Luo deliberately provoked Chen Dahu; as soon as he spoke, he shifted position, for Chen Dahu was already charging toward the sound.

"I'll kill you!"

Chen Dahu's hair stood on end as he channeled his Tiger Subduing Fist again and sprinted toward the source of Facing Facing Cang Luo's voice.

As he drew near, he suddenly turned his fist into a palm and lunged forward to grab—only to grasp nothing but air.

"Ahh!" Chen Dahu let out a cry of pain as he smashed a furious punch into the ground.

This time, the pebble struck his nose—the nose being one of the most vulnerable parts of the human body.

To strike a man, strike his face; to strike his face, strike his nose.

In street brawls, a punch to the nose knocks a man out of combat for several seconds, leaving him helpless.

Chen Dahu's nose was struck dead center by Facing Facing Cang Luo's pebble; golden stars exploded before his eyes, a searing, piercing pain surged through him, and then two streams of bright red blood gushed from his nostrils.

Chen Dahu cultivated a Earth-elemental core method, so he couldn't use Qi to heal the wound—only to seal the blood vessels with Qi to barely stop the bleeding.

"Aaaah!!! Damn it!"

Chen Dahu, bent over and holding his nose, had just stopped the bleeding when Facing Facing Cang Luo landed four or five rapid strikes on him—his screams rose in a chorus as lumps swelled on his head.

Chen Dahu screamed, but Facing Facing Cang Luo wore a strange expression.

What's going on? I've never had any shooting training—how am I hitting so accurately? Every throw lands exactly where I aim?

Facing Facing Cang Luo couldn't figure it out, so he attributed this ability to the Warrior's formidable physique and mental discipline.

Huh? Could I someday craft some throwing darts or daggers to use as hidden weapons?

Facing Facing Cang Luo wore a relaxed expression, pondering how to maximize this ability, while Chen Dahu frantically began running.

He dared not stay still—he held his nose with one hand and covered his head with the other, sprinting rapidly, hoping to evade the pebbles through speed.

Chen Dahu's tactic worked; Facing Facing Cang Luo tried several throws but missed each time, even accidentally hitting some onlooker disciples.

The pebble attacks had lost their effectiveness, so Facing Facing Cang Luo halted to conserve ammunition, carefully pretending to be blind as he groped along the ground to retrieve the pebbles and replenish his supply.

As Facing Facing Cang Luo picked up the pebbles, he thought of a new strategy.

After a long while, Facing Facing Cang Luo suddenly called out, "I'm right here..."

The moment Facing Facing Cang Luo spoke, Chen Dahu instinctively stopped running—but instantly realized it was a trap. Too late. Two more pebbles struck him.

"Ahh! I'm furious! You worthless trash—have the guts to face me head-on!"

Chen Dahu flew into a rage but had no recourse—he resumed running.

At this point, he regretted agreeing to Facing Facing Cang Luo's blindfolded duel condition, wondering how to counter his dishonorable tactics.

Facing Facing Cang Luo watched Chen Dahu, bloodied and bruised from running, and felt immense satisfaction.

Yet he didn't lower his guard because of this temporary advantage—Chen Dahu was wounded, but his bones and tendons remained intact; given the chance, the man could still deliver a killing blow.

His goal was to accumulate these injuries bit by bit, draining Chen Dahu's stamina and Qi until he collapsed—then strike the fatal blow.

Before the duel, Cang Feng had said Chen Dahu's Tiger Subduing Fist consumed enormous Qi—he estimated Chen Dahu could unleash it at full power only ten times.

After ten strikes, his Qi should be exhausted.

Facing Facing Cang Luo had been counting how many times Chen Dahu used the Tiger Subduing Fist—since the duel began, Chen Dahu had used it three times...