Chapter 347: This Is a Master!

"Yes, her threat to me was especially strong…"

Chen Hanzhou voiced his own feelings.

"Hey! You two are sparring, but neither of you is allowed to kill the other—got it?" Zhang Su said loudly.

At this moment, Lu Yubo and the Japanese woman stood in the middle of the road; both nodded upon hearing Zhang Su's words.

"Even if you're a woman, I won't let you—do you understand?"

Lu Yubo swung his weapon, his eyes blazing with fervor and seriousness.

The Japanese woman stared at Lu Yubo without expression, muttered a string of unintelligible words, then bowed deeply with perfect politeness before assuming her stance.

Lu Yubo's posture was a textbook high attack stance, commonly seen in many combat styles—a standard, unremarkable position.

But the Japanese woman was entirely different: she flicked her wrist, the slender steel rod trembling slightly, then slowly moved her right hand to her left abdomen, the rod's tip pointing diagonally forward, while her other hand rested behind her back.

"Damn, is she letting me go one-handed?"

Lu Yubo frowned at her stance but didn't act rashly—he felt a surging battle intent in her eyes.

"Am I really going to be scared by a woman? Fuck it, let's go!"

Steeling himself, Lu Yubo launched the first attack against the Japanese woman.

He pushed off the ground and charged forward, his grain sampler stabbing like an arrow aimed straight at her neck.

Though Zhang Su had ordered no lethal strikes, Lu Yubo thought that if this single blow could kill her, keeping her alive seemed pointless; driven by this all-out mindset, his assault was razor-sharp.

The distance between them was barely four or five meters; as Lu Yubo attacked, the Japanese woman moved too.

"Shit!"

"Holy shit…"

"Bozi's in trouble!"

Zhang Su and the others all gasped involuntarily at the woman's movement—her action left them stunned.

Puff.

Thud…

In an instant, the two clashed; a dull sound rang out, and Lu Yubo collapsed face-first onto the ground—strong as he was, he didn't utter a single word.

As Lu Yubo attacked, the Japanese woman pushed off the ground—not to meet him head-on, but instead leaned backward like a willow branch caught in the wind, bending down like a gymnast in a backbend, even lower, knees bent at an exaggerated angle, hands not touching the ground for support, but instead swinging the steel rod in attack—the difficulty level was practically 9. , 9. , 9. !

Lu Yubo, locked in his high attack stance, had no time to adjust; he watched helplessly as the slender steel rod whipped toward his calf—his eyes tracked it, but his forward momentum couldn't be altered; he tried to leap away, but it was already too late…

If he hadn't jumped at all, it might've been better—this was the kind of half-jump where your calf takes a solid hit.

Gurgling, Lu Yubo rolled twice with the force, then stood up and stared at the Japanese woman again, his eyes filled with gravity—his usual arrogance had vanished.

Was that hit heavy?

Not light.

Did it hurt?

I'm wearing thick gear—it's nothing…

But what if it had been a sharp blade? What would the situation be now?

Lu Yubo couldn't imagine…

"Holy shit, Boss Zhang, this woman's movements are insane!"

Wu Lue's face twisted—he was shaken by the exchange just now; this wasn't human-level skill!

Zhang Su nodded grimly, silent, frowning at the two, then spoke: "Bozi, don't be reckless—use the techniques I taught you!"

With her skill level, ordinary attacks won't bring her down—let's see if Master Chen's Mad Dog Fist style can work!

"Got it!"

Lu Yubo nodded firmly, eyes locked on the Japanese woman; this time he didn't charge, but began circling, searching for an opening.

The Japanese woman's footwork was agile, and she showed zero arrogance—her gaze remained fixed on Lu Yubo; as he circled, she circled with him…

It was a replay of Zhu Qianlong and Li Tianran's classic standoff—except Lu Yubo and the Japanese woman weren't drawing or switching guns; they simply circled each other in the middle of the road.

No one rushed them; Zhang Su and the others watched with keen interest. In the post-apocalyptic monotony, they hadn't seen anything this entertaining in ages—even Su Xiaoya pursed her lips, studying the Japanese woman's steps intently, as if trying to learn something.

Finally, on the fifth circle, Lu Yubo couldn't hold back—he attacked again, but this time not with full force; it was a simple probe, laced with feint-and-strike tactics.

"Aah!"

A sudden, shrill yell—meant to intimidate—but it only startled Su Xiaoya…

Ping. Pong.

Two sharp clacks—the grain sampler's two strikes were deflected by the slender steel rod, not blocked directly with its narrow surface, but struck sideways.

The Japanese woman remained utterly unmoved by Lu Yubo's noise and feints—as if she'd shut out all distractions, always striking straight at the vital point.

"Not good…" Zhang Su muttered softly, shaking his head: "Bozi isn't her match. This woman—damn, she's a master among masters!"

Others might not have noticed, but he knew clearly: the Japanese woman had no need to block Lu Yubo's attacks at all—she could've easily dodged. Yet she deliberately exerted herself, swinging the rod with force, and between each strike, she expertly used his own momentum against him—her supple wrist controlled direction with flawless precision!

Just this one detail already put her at least two tiers above Lu Yubo's level!

Without exaggeration, her combat skill was as towering as a three- or four-story building.

"Boss Zhang, shouldn't we call it off?"

Wu Lue asked nervously, worried his friend Lu Yubo would be humiliated.

Zhang Su shook his head: "One more round—this should decide it. Let her teach Bozi a lesson—it'll knock some arrogance out of him."

Hearing this, the others turned back to the fight.

But Lu Yubo, in the thick of it, didn't see things as clearly as the onlookers; that one probing strike had restored his confidence. After circling once more, he locked onto her torso and launched another attack.

"Aah! Strike—"

The essence of the Mad Dog Fist: shouting wildly while striking unexpectedly, blending real and fake, true and false, aiming straight for the vital points.

The sharp grain sampler darted unpredictably, stabbing at the Japanese woman from an unclear angle; Lu Yubo's eyes widened, hoping his weapon would pierce her body, craving the sight of blood trickling down the sampler.

Ding-ding-ding…

Three crisp strikes sounded almost as one.

Lu Yubo felt his grain sampler veer off course, his wrist losing control, then a powerful force slammed into his chest—while the woman's steel rod was already thrust toward his throat.

(End of chapter)