Chapter 465: The Strong Fear Nothing

"Lao Yu is right—you all just be spectators, and remember to clap."

Zhang Su nodded casually to his companions, took off his coat, put on gloves, and walked to the front of the crowd.

The murmuring crowd fell silent as Zhang Su approached in light attire; their eyes held little surprise, for many had guessed he would handle this himself—perhaps…

Only he could do it, and everyone still wanted to witness it firsthand.

"I admit that Tianma Yu's punishment methods are too monotonous—not every offense deserves this same treatment. We'll gradually improve them in the future, but until a new version is ready, this remains our policy!"

After speaking loudly, Zhang Su waved to the person controlling the zombies. "Throw them in."

Ten zombies were pushed one by one from the back of the Golden Cup van into the arena; the crowd's earlier relaxed expressions gradually turned solemn. They hadn't felt it strongly before, but as the arena grew more complete, they could more easily imagine themselves facing these zombies—and immediately felt immense psychological pressure.

Then they thought about being forbidden to carry weapons—some even began sweating at the back of their necks. They realized how much security their weapons had given them, and many unconsciously touched the weapons hanging at their sides.

Aowu aowu, bang bang, bang bang…

Each zombie circled inside the arena, slapping against the cars forming the walls, producing chaotic, nerve-racking noises like a death knell pounding against their hearts.

Clang…

One particularly clever big-zombie smashed a car window with a single swipe.

"Sniff… sniff…"

Zhang Su tilted his head back, sniffed the air, and smiled. "Stewed meat smells delicious. No more delay—start!"

"Yan… Yanluo Wang, really, you don't have to do this—maybe I'll just cut off my hand instead!"

A thief, seeing Zhang Su's calm, confident demeanor, could no longer bear the pressure. His legs trembled as he bowed, begging for mercy.

Zhang Su didn't pause his steps toward the arena, glancing casually at the four men. They were now completely isolated, as if their death sentences had already been announced.

"Mr. Zhang!"

Li Zongkai, seeing Zhang Su approach, couldn't help calling out—but said nothing else, only using his eyes to warn him to be careful.

Zhang Su smiled back at Li Zongkai, then swept his gaze across Liu Yao and Yang Xin's faces, conveying no special meaning—just ordinary, casual attention.

"Cold day, and now I have to ruin my clothes… hey!"

Muttering complaints under his breath, he walked to the side of the Golden Cup van. He didn't bend down to crawl into the cargo area—no true expert would enter so clumsily.

He grabbed the roof, stepped off the van's edge, and floated effortlessly onto the roof. Then he strode forward, treating the vehicle as if it were nothing.

The sight of him leaping onto the roof with one arm left the crowd stunned. Every part of his body radiated immense power, skillfully controlled and revealed without effort—his ability struck fear into their hearts.

Easy. Too easy. Effortless mastery!

Someone unconsciously tried to mimic Zhang Su's move—and found it utterly unbelievable.

Ju Wuying stood among the crowd and sneered. She had clearly felt Zhang Su's Qi swell, like a miniature universe exploding—he was clearly planning to show off his strength.

The four thieves exchanged glances, tongues bitter, eyes panicked. The stronger he was, the closer they were to death—what should they do now…?

Huh.

Zhang Su stepped forward as if unaware the ground vanished beneath him, his body plummeting like a free-falling stone.

No—not the ground!

Thud!!

His foot came down squarely on the skull of a zombie that had been about to attack him.

Puh…

The zombie collapsed to the ground. The sound of teeth smashing against concrete made everyone's skin crawl.

The Zhang Su who had walked down from the Golden Cup with leisurely grace was no longer calm. He lifted his knee high and brought his foot down again—crack, pssht.

His sturdy boot sole crushed the zombie's skull. The creature's limbs stopped twitching, unable to rise.

Wang Yu, who had sworn a solemn oath, twitched violently, his face twisted. He felt Zhang Su's foot hadn't just crushed the zombie's skull—it had crushed his own fragile heart. Aowu aowu.

The other nine zombies, lacking thought and fearless, instinctively surged toward the blood. As Zhang Su attacked the first zombie, they began moving toward him. And perhaps because the fire zombie was nearby, raising the ambient temperature slightly, their speed wasn't slow at all!

"Will he be okay…?"

Fu Weijun, as an observer, was the first to notice this—but he only worried silently inside, saying nothing to anyone.

There was no need to mention it. With the white mist's aid, even facing nine zombies, Zhang Su felt no real strain—he treated it as a dangerous training exercise, fully focused on studying the zombies' movement patterns to gain the upper hand!

Of course, this also benefited from his own formidable physical condition. Even if one could instantly anticipate an opponent's move, one still needed the reflexes and muscular strength to dodge or strike back.

Take an extreme example: if Fu Weijun were in the arena, even if he could predict all nine zombies' actions for the next five seconds, it wouldn't matter—he lacked the capacity to respond!

Figures darted and twisted through the arena. The zombies' attacks barely brushed Zhang Su's clothes. Not only did they fail to inflict real damage—they couldn't even land a solid hit! Zhang Su's clothing wasn't colorful, and neither were the zombies—otherwise, it would've looked like a beautiful butterfly dancing among flowers.

Thud, thud, puh…

Finally, Zhang Su began his counterattack. He kicked each zombie backward, sending them crashing into the cars with clangs, then tumbling to the ground.

Their speed and agility had improved somewhat, but rising from a fall still took time.

Seeing no immediate danger, Zhang Su walked to where the first zombie had fallen, bent down, and pulled out a sharp bone fragment that had pierced its scalp. He held it up for all to see. "By rule, weapons taken from the arena may be used—but I'll make it harder on myself. I won't use this thing either!"

With that, Zhang Su tossed the bone fragment aside.

Pamp, pamp.

Though it looked casual, the pale-white bone fragment, streaked with greenish slime, landed precisely before the four thieves. They all stepped back in shock, desperate to flee—but a crowd surrounded them, as if deliberately blocking their escape.

Wu Baokang saw Zhang Su's move and twitched his lips. Using whatever was at hand as a weapon was his specialty—yet this man scorned it. What a total show-off…

Inside the arena, Zhang Su thought: I've shown off enough. Time to fulfill my promise to Zheng Xinyu—end this quickly.

This time, he went all out, stepping forward with unstoppable force!

Technique and power combined—the zombies became lambs awaiting slaughter, while Zhang Su was a tiger plunging into the flock. Every elbow strike, every front kick, every downward stomp came with crack-pssht sounds. His wild movements were terrifying; the raw power bursting from his body was horrifying. Ordinary zombies' bones couldn't withstand it—one after another fell before absolute strength.

Thud! Zhang Su's iron fist slammed into a zombie's eye socket. Its face collapsed instantly, then bounced off a car door—only to meet a spinning kick.

Thud… huuu.

The zombie, still weighing nearly a hundred jin, spun through the air like a bamboo helicopter, then crashed onto the van's roof with a clang. Its skull had taken too many blows—it was dead, lying still as if asleep.

Nine of the ten zombies now lay fallen.

If the zombie had even a shred of thought, the last survivor would surely be trembling—but it had none. It marched steadily toward its prey, unwavering.

Outside the arena, members of the Yanluo Corps had silently taken positions beside the four thieves. Zhao De and Lu Yu seized all their weapons, preventing them from making a desperate last stand.

Pssht…

As a wet, sticky sound echoed through the arena, the last zombie's brain tissue burst like jelly.

"Another excellent thalamus wasted…" Fu Weijun sat in his wheelchair, a trace of regret on his lips.

Dust settled in the arena. The four thieves' lives were nearing their end. Even the wind stilled, as if sensing the solemn moment approaching.

"He's not human… this guy isn't human."

Liu Yao couldn't help muttering aloud, earning silent nods from those nearby.

Aside from Tianma Yu's core members, everyone marveled at Zhang Su's astonishing close-combat ability. They now understood: once trained to a certain level, fists, feet, elbows, and knees all become weapons.

Ordinary people feared zombies largely because they were too weak…

The strong fear nothing!

(End of Chapter)