Chapter 98

"I—" Atuo took a big bite; rather than waste time here arguing with this crazy monk, he might as well finish eating and hit the road.

He definitely wasn't really hungry; the hot dog was just too fragrant.

In two or three bites, he shoved the whole hot dog into his mouth, and Atuo stepped on the gas.

The Mount Akina God of Wheels was back online.

"Monk, you said it—this time you absolutely won't buy anything to eat!" Atuo mumbled unclearly.

"The poor monk is clearly doing this for your own good." Tang Luo shook his head.

This is Master Xuanzang's usual style—he can let anyone starve, but not the "driver," or rather, the vehicle.

On the Journey to the West, the lonely gourmet prepares a big feast, and the first person to eat it is always the White Dragon Horse.

Riding someone else's mount without giving them a bite to eat—Tang Luo wouldn't do such a thing.

"Hey, uh, monk, you're not eating this one?" Five minutes later, Atuo asked while driving, one hand on the wheel.

If he didn't eat it, fine—but the more he ate, the hungrier he got, and Tang Luo still held one in his hand, its aroma filling the air.

"I'm not eating it; this is for someone else." Tang Luo said.

"Oh." Atuo felt sad; he'd come all this way—why not buy a few more?

If he had no money, he could just pay up!

————

"Pfft!"

As expected of someone with the Afei destiny pattern, even injured he had the flair of a wuxia character—he spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed to the ground, nearly unable to grip the sword in his hand.

When Qin Menglan and Qiangshu arrived, they saw Afei being sent flying backward by Thirteen's strike.

"You—"

Qin Menglan stared at Thirteen, unable to connect the person before her with the one in her memory, "You're not Thirteen?"

Her tone was somewhat doubtful.

"Thirteen?" Thirteen laughed, "I am him, but also not him."

"What the hell nonsense!" Qiangshu had no intention of wasting words; he curled his right hand, and a semi-transparent phantom of a small axe appeared in his grip, which he hurled at Thirteen.

Skill: Flying Axe Throw!

There's no one around here—we can go all out!

The axe moved with extreme speed, covering the twenty-plus meters between them in an instant.

Just as the axe was about to cleave Thirteen's skull, his figure suddenly blurred in that instant.

The axe seemed to slice through a nonexistent illusion, passing through Thirteen's blurred form and landing on the ground, vanishing without a trace.

"Huh?"

Watching Thirteen re-solidify, unharmed, Qiangshu's eyes widened.

What's going on here?

Some kind of evasion skill?

"Be careful—he should be a destiny pattern holder." Afei coughed as he rose to his feet, his right sword-hand trembling slightly.

He switched the sword to his left hand and fixed his gaze on Thirteen.

"Destiny pattern holder..." Qin Menglan murmured, "Thirteen, stop now, and there's still a chance."

"Chance?" Thirteen laughed wildly, "You're giving me a chance? Wrong—it's me deciding whether to give you a chance!"

As his words fell, his body vanished from the spot.

He reappeared in front of Qiangshu.

Qiangshu instinctively leaned back and threw a punch just as powerful!

Light flickered on his fist—clearly the same skill as Zhou Zhenghuo's—Heavy Strike!

And as someone who had survived six missions and undergone full enhancement as a God-Demon Walker, this punch could easily shatter a thick concrete wall.

Facing Qiangshu's all-out punch,

Thirteen's figure blurred again, creating a disorienting, uncomfortable sense of dislocation.

As the punch missed, Thirteen's palm had already struck Qiangshu's chest.

Qiangshu felt as if hit by an iron hammer—his chest caved in instantly, and he was sent flying backward.

Injured far worse than Afei, he now had no strength left to fight.

"Oh, you're not dead?" Thirteen seemed puzzled, staring at his own palm—this strike should have been enough to kill his opponent, its force surging violently.

Probably some skill of the opponent's that let this guy keep his life.

But it doesn't matter—this palm strike, even if he doesn't die, will cripple him.

Just as Thirteen idly examined his own palm, Afei had already reached his side.

His left arm blurred into an afterimage; the black sword in his hand seemed to vanish at a glance.

Lightning-fast sword!

So fast that even a first-stage enhanced God-Demon Walker couldn't react in time.

Moreover, Afei's left-hand sword now was faster than his right-hand sword just moments before.

This is Afei's hidden killing move!

"What a fast sword!" Thirteen praised.

Afei's face changed; he instantly raised his right arm to block in front of his chest.

Though he felt he had struck something, the opponent could still speak.

Being able to speak meant he hadn't been truly gravely wounded—meaning he'd have to face the opponent's counterattack!

Afei's judgment and choice were both correct.

Thirteen's palm slapped his right arm, the right arm was directly broken, and at the same time, the tremendous force spread through the arm.

Ah Fei retreated, stepping back twenty paces, his right arm hanging limp, twisted into a horrifying angle.

He leaned forward, dropped to one knee, propped himself up with his sword, and did not let his severely wounded self collapse completely.

But the calm on his face had vanished, replaced by uncontainable panic and fear.

After all, he was merely a fate-holder, not the true Ah Fei.

Moreover, he was a youth.

What Qin Menglan thought of as the "heaven's chosen one" should actually describe this Ah Fei.

"Hmm..." This time, there was no time for Thirteen to look at his palm, puzzled as to why he hadn't slapped someone to death again.

Because a blue "dragon" was lunging at him.

This dragon was not large, about two meters or so, blue-white in color, merely a vague shape, a gathering of energy.

When Ah Fei struck at Thirteen again with his sword, Qin Menglan naturally acted as well.

Not the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, but the skill·Dragon Fist Strike!

Clenching his fist and swinging it out, he released a blue-white dragon-shaped energy, blasting toward the target.

The flying dragon was about to reach him, and Thirteen's figure blurred once more.

But this time, the dragon's head suddenly changed direction.

Thirteen's blurred figure solidified again, appearing in a position that was about half a meter off from where it had been just before.

The two collided.

There was no special sound effect, only invisible qi spreading outward.

It blew Thirteen's clothes into loud flapping, and sent the staggering Ah Fei crashing directly to the ground.

The dragon-shaped energy dissipated, Thirteen retreated over ten meters, his right hand continuously trembling, hanging limp at his side.

His palm contracted and trembled unnaturally like a chicken's claw, obviously injured quite badly.

On his chest was a gash, with a little blood seeping out, that was the wound left by Ah Fei's fast sword.

Dragon Fist Strike is not some extraordinarily powerful heaven-defying skill, but it has a special feature: it can lock onto and pursue a target.

Whether Thirteen is simply fast enough to dodge Uncle Shu's punches and Ah Fei's swift sword, or uses some special method.

Qin Menglan's Dragon Fist Pursuit, he finds it hard to evade.

"It seems I underestimated you." Thirteen said to Qin Menglan, despite his injury, still maintaining the air of "everything is under my control."

Qin Menglan said nothing, and overlapping shadows appeared on his body.

Then, "separation" — he stepped left and right, turning from one person into two identical ones.

Extremely lifelike, making it impossible to tell which is the real body.

Skill·Phantom Clone: the clone possesses part of the current strength — not including the skill itself, nor equipment or other external items.

If the skill has been truly mastered to perfection, the clone can also use the skill.

This is a quite formidable skill, strong in every aspect and every sense.

"You've obtained so much information about gods and demons walking the world, but few know about your skill-related matters." Thirteen said.

It seems the injury to his right hand will not affect his upcoming battle in the slightest.

Qin Menglan glanced at Thirteen, and together with his clone, lunged left and right at him.

Battle, no need for nonsense!

The three "men" engaged in close combat.

But upon initial contact, it was not the one-handed Thirteen who fell into disadvantage, but rather Qin Menglan, who was besieging him.

Thirteen's figure occasionally blurred, drifting unpredictably.

Moreover, Qin Menglan's attacks were all deflected by him using one hand, or even shoulder, back, etc., diverted to another direction — not to mention sometimes even being "countered."

It was as if Thirteen was using Qin Menglan's strength to strike her himself.

"You have power and speed, but your technique is too poor. If you had time, why not learn some martial arts?"

Thirteen spoke while simultaneously deflecting Qin Menglan's fist with one palm, causing it to veer off and hit his clone — or rather, hit the true body "mutually destroying."

Thirteen still could not tell which of the two was the real body.

But it didn't matter; as long as both were within his attack range, it was fine.

The two Qin Menglans failed to dodge or defend in time, directly colliding into a heap.

After an ugly roll on the ground, they leapt up again, creating some distance from Thirteen, eyes locked like tigers watching prey.

Thirteen remained calm and composed, and it could be seen that his right hand, compared to the beginning, had already recovered somewhat — no longer clenched like a chicken's claw; it seemed he would soon return to normal.

"Cosmic Grand Displacement? Stars Shift, Battle Turns?" Qin Menglan did not strike again, but opened his mouth to ask.

Just now, Thirteen's use of force against force reminded her of these two martial arts.

Could Thirteen have obtained the fate of a related martial arts figure?

Thirteen gave a light laugh; though he said nothing, the arrogance on his face clearly showed, evidently dismissing these two martial arts with disdain.

"Forget it." Qin Menglan slightly shook his head, suddenly half-squatted, and slammed both hands hard onto the ground.

Centered on her, the ground pulsed with purple light; viewed from above, a radius-10-meter circular formation could be seen.

A trap-type area-of-effect skill!

At the moment the formation appeared, purple lightning surged from the ground, wrapping around Thirteen.

Thirteen's face changed slightly, his body sank — and he felt waves of pain striking him.

If he had a health bar, one could see it steadily decreasing by -1, -1, -1, -1 — the damage is not high, but accumulated, it would be enough to tip the scales toward victory.

The key is, this damage acts directly on the body, as if an invisible force continually strikes the flesh.

Besides passive resistance, there is no other way.

Thirteen continuously circulated his true qi, the pain on his body gradually fading as he prepared to step toward Qin Menglan.

Never mind which one is the real body—I'll just kill one and see.

The distance to retreat from the affected area was almost the same as the distance to rush forward and attack Qin Menglan.

As Thirteen took a step, the purple lightning on his body suddenly intensified, flashing profusely; though the damage did not increase, the heavy pressure made his movements sluggish.

The effect was no weaker than Dong Yuan's slowing technique, only stronger.

Qin Menglan smiled, reached behind her waist, drew a pistol, and aimed it at the immobile Thirteen.

As a modern person, of course I should learn to make use of modern firearms.

This isn't a mission world where I can carry firearms.

Martial arts? What martial arts?

Isn't using a gun fine?