Chapter 568: One Kick to Open, One Punch to Close

"You Zhang!"

In the arena, Qi Dabin panted heavily, his throat bobbing with each breath, shoulders heaving, sweat dripping from his forehead as he stared at Zhang Su with a complex gaze: "Are you really going to wipe us out completely? Right here in front of everyone, we're the same kind of people—don't you want to be a righteous leader?"

Knowing he was cornered, Qi Dabin still refused to accept defeat.

"Same kind? Who the hell are you calling the same kind? When you led your men up the mountain to take advantage of the chaos, where was your thought about us being the same kind?"

Zhang Su had taken many punches and kicks, but the most obvious wound was his left eyebrow—someone's black fist had split it open, blood clinging to the outer corner; he squinted his left eye and spoke loudly.

"Brothers, isn't it righteous to eliminate bandits plotting against Tianma Island?"

When he finished speaking, there was no immediate response—the crowd needed time to think, afraid of saying the wrong thing and looking foolish.

After two or three seconds, scattered "yes"es rose from all around, eventually merging into a single loud chorus.

Zhao Dezhu and his group hadn't gone far; they turned back to look, faces twisted in grim amusement.

"Fuck, why the hell did they bury them? Just toss 'em in the ground—it's way easier."

Liu Yao kicked angrily at clumps of dirt on the ground.

"Hmph!" Yang Xin had been ready to agree, but remembering he'd been ordered by Liu Yao to dig graves, he grew angry and stayed silent.

"Come on, let's go—no more nonsense. We're a civilized survivor camp, not a savage tribe, got it?"

Zhao Dezhu called out to Liu Yao and the others to keep moving forward.

"You dog, heard that? From our standpoint, killing you bastards with ill intent is righteous. What's your last word? Just one—this is my final mercy to you!"

Qi Dabin had taken some injuries, but Zhang Su's condition was flawless—energized, full of vigor, especially after having just killed seven men barehanded; thick, palpable killing intent surged from his voice.

Zhang Su's inner killing intent naturally affected the surrounding spectators; each person in the crowd couldn't help but wish both men dead.

"I—I've seen movies. In movies, there's a way where the two captured men fight each other, and the survivor gets spared. Give me a chance—let me fight him…"

Qi Dabin finally snapped, pointing at the skinny monkey and uttering words that left everyone stunned.

Even Zhang Su's composure faltered—could someone really be this shameless? He was momentarily speechless, but others wouldn't sit idle.

At that moment, the arena erupted!

Qi Dabin pointed at the skinny monkey but faced Zhang Su, heart pounding, hoping for agreement—yet he didn't notice the surge of murderous intent flashing in the skinny monkey's eyes, already turning to action.

"You die first!"

The skinny monkey struck—a thunderous blow aimed at Qi Dabin.

He was called "Skinny Monkey" in the Flying Wolf Gang—not just for his build, but for his agility, which matched Qi Dabin's closely, otherwise he wouldn't have survived this long. He lacked strength, so his attacks were vicious: always targeting vulnerable spots—eyes, throat, solar plexus, groin. This time was no different. The sudden twist was unexpected yet logical; Zhang Su instinctively stepped forward, then halted.

Thud! "You—gah—hrrk—uh…"

Qi Dabin saw a dark shadow flash past his eye—then his throat was crushed. Intense pain spread; he couldn't breathe! He clutched his neck in disbelief, eyes filled with regret and venom.

With no defense, his larynx shattered, his trachea ruptured—he was certain to die.

But why hadn't he defended himself? Logically, when he suggested fighting the skinny monkey, he should've anticipated betrayal. Yet he didn't consider it, because in his mind, the skinny monkey's plan was a trick aimed at Zhang Su! Qi Dabin was confident Zhang Su would accept—people loved to toy with prey, especially trapped ones like them; it was the most fun. If he were Zhang Su, he'd think the same.

Then he could play tricks during the duel—ambush Zhang Su, seize a hostage, and escape.

In the past, the skinny monkey always understood Qi Dabin's hidden meaning—but this time was unlike any other.

Qi Dabin had miscalculated…

The skinny monkey was on the verge of collapse—or rather, watching his comrades die one by one under fists and kicks had shattered his mind; he had no interest in playing along. His only belief: if you want me dead, I'll kill you first! "Stupid… fuck…"

Qi Dabin couldn't speak, but he still cursed inwardly, turning those two words into silent lip movements.

Puff…

He collapsed onto the earth, full of bitter resentment, then began convulsing—until his final moment, his eyes remained fixed on the skinny monkey. He'd hated Zhang Su most—but at death's door, his hatred shifted.

The skinny monkey felt as if all strength had been drained. He dared not look at Qi Dabin's corpse; his attacking arm still throbbed from the force. He stared fixedly at Zhang Su, waiting until the crowd fell silent before speaking: "Zhang… Zhang Boss… I killed the mastermind of this whole thing… can… can you spare me?"

The sky was gloomy, the scene silent—everyone held their breath.

The darkness of human nature had been laid bare—so clearly it made some feel physically ill.

Zhang Su looked up at the sky, thick with dark clouds—not a single ray of sunlight.

Yesterday's absolute justice, the massacre at Bajiazi Village this morning, then the Flying Wolf Gang waiting at his doorstep—each act of human evil pressed down on his heart like this sky: heavy, black, suffocating.

"Heh…"

He couldn't help but sigh, utterly baffled by what these people were thinking—no resonance at all.

Zhang Su knew well: when survival is at stake, reason fades, along with morality and humanity. Nothing matters but living.

But things hadn't reached that extreme!

If some supreme force had decreed that all six hundred here must fight to the death, and only the last survivor would live happily ever after—he'd join the bloodshed too.

But reality wasn't that dire. Why make it so brutal?

"Just join the brothers of Daqiao Fort and come to Tianma Island. Work together, stand together—what's wrong with that?"

Zhang Su shook his head, walking toward the skinny monkey, speaking with solemn gravity: "Why force conflict? Why ambush in chaos? Why die before you realize your mistake? What's the point?"

"It's all… hey!"

The skinny monkey thought Zhang Su was about to spare him—until the moment he stepped within two meters, Zhang Su struck!

A blur of motion—a fist the size of a mortar slammed into his chest…

Zhang Su had no intention of letting the skinny monkey speak. Two meters was the perfect range for a single, devastating strike—he didn't want to hear another word.

Thud—puff… A straight punch, unquestionably landing on the skinny monkey's chest—more visually striking than Bruce Lee's inch punch, force unknown, but lethality undeniable!

Those behind the skinny monkey saw his back bulge violently where the punch struck, then his entire body lost balance and tumbled backward in a chaotic heap.

Several people gasped, thinking: So movie scenes aren't fake—someone really can be punched like this? But that takes twenty years of training! Puff…

"Gah… gah…"

Zhang Su achieved his goal: the skinny monkey never finished speaking. He died in a pool of blood.

The first attacker, Da Niu, was kicked down by Zhang Su; the last survivor, the skinny monkey, was crushed by a punch—one kick to open, one punch to close.

"Judgment complete. The nine bandits of the Flying Wolf Gang received their due. The Yanluowang slew them one by one—cleaning evil, restoring peace to Tianma Island!"

Yu Wen had been waiting for this moment. As the skinny monkey fell, he stepped into the arena, microphone in hand, announcing loudly.

Everyone watched the duel—but he had to define its true nature: this wasn't a duel. It was the Yanluowang 's judgment on invading bandits—just, fair, public—but unfair, because the Yanluowang fought nine alone!

" Yanluowang, Yanluowang …"

Immediately after Yu Wen, Zhang Su's #1 fan, Lu Yu, joined in, leading the chant.

Amid the cheers, Zhang Su slowly closed his eyes—not to savor glory or flattery, but to regulate his emotions.

Zombies were now as vicious as rabid dogs; he shouldn't overindulge. He calmed his mind, then lowered his hand, signaling the crowd to quiet down.

Emotionally swept along, the crowd's frenzy faded—perfectly effective.

But one person was an exception: Ju Wuying stood among the crowd, eyes gleaming, staring at Zhang Su in disbelief. Just now, her mind—or rather, her soul—had been struck by a tidal wave. Fortunately, her mental dam held firm, sparing her from impact.

It left her stunned. She studied Zhang Su with curiosity.

Before this, she'd felt similar odd sensations—but dismissed them, assuming the crowd's intense emotions—especially their murderous rage—must have influenced her.

But this was different. Everyone was still agitated—then a ripple passed through them, and they all fell silent. Moments later, that invisible wave crashed against her heart, trying to soothe her inner turmoil!

What was happening? This was wrong…

"Two days have passed—he's grown again!" Ju Wuying reached a shocking conclusion.

Besides Ju Wuying, one dog also sensed something odd.

More precisely, the Corgi, Good Luck, had sensed the emotional tide even earlier than Ju Wuying. He sat at the arena's edge, close to Zhang Su, directly feeling wave after wave of emotional shifts.

But Good Luck didn't think of Zhang Su—he happily assumed he'd gained a new ability, tongue lolling, grinning.

Zhang Su didn't know Ju Wuying's thoughts, nor did he notice Good Luck's odd behavior.

He spoke loudly to the crowd: "The Flying Wolf Gang were enemies—I had to deal with them harshly. But as fellow humans, I have the duty to bury them. Bozi, take men and dig nine graves—don't let them lie exposed!"

"Boss, Da Zhu already took people to do it."

Lu Yu pointed toward the distance.

Zhang Su didn't need to ask—he knew this was Yu Wen's arrangement. He nodded to him, then turned to Xie Guangfa and the other two watching nearby.

Feeling Zhang Su's gaze, Xie Guangfa shuddered, face twisted in bitterness: "I suppose the Yanluowang won't spare my life. No need for you to lift a finger—just dig one more grave. I'll handle it myself."

He hadn't passed the test—he'd likely be seen as an accomplice, with no good end. Better to take initiative. That was Xie Guangfa's thought.

Hearing this, the two other Flying Wolf Gang survivors nearly wept—internally screaming: Don't do this! You're throwing your life away! Maybe there's still hope! You don't want to live—but we do!

The crowd's expressions turned complex. No one expected Xie Guangfa to choose death—everyone was fighting to survive.

Maybe this was a tactic—retreat to advance?

But he didn't look like it.

"I never said I'd kill you!"

Zhang Su walked slowly toward Xie Guangfa, brushing dirt off his clothes: "Your Flying Wolf Gang is as poor as beggars—probably no supplies at all. You three? You're the only loot."

Live?

Xie Guangfa and the other two's eyes lit up. Fine—be loot. As long as we live, anything's acceptable!

"Thank you, thank you, Yanluowang, for your mercy! I'll serve you as your slave!"

"Me too! Me too!"

Ning Jianshe and Qian Guangwei bowed repeatedly.

"Don't get too happy. You three failed the test. You enter Tianma Island as prisoners—your freedom will be restricted until I judge you harmless. Understood?"

Through emotional observation, Zhang Su felt these three weren't major threats—but people are hard to read. Necessary precautions must be taken.

"We accept any punishment."

"I agree too!"

"No… no problem."

All three had no objections—grabbing a life was more than enough.

Dust settled, the cleanup didn't require Zhang Su's attention; he looked at the group and waved toward Tianmayu. "Brothers, let's head up the mountain for a brief rest, then we'll plan what's next!"

At his command, the crowd turned reluctantly toward the vehicles, their conversations filled entirely with the recent duel—it would be their topic of discussion for days to come.

From their arrival at the foot of Tianmayu to the end of the trial, perhaps the great battle days earlier had cleared the surrounding zombies clean; only that small group had attacked, and afterward, all remained calm—even loud shouts drew no more zombies.

It gave people the feeling that everything had improved since arriving at Tianmayu!

Of course, it was merely a feeling—an illusion brought by coincidence.

(End of Chapter)