Chapter 54: The Contest of Blade and Leg

A narrow corridor.

A lone figure wielding a baton-type weapon charges toward you.

How should you respond?

Fang Cheng retreated with quick steps, bending his arms to block.

After creating distance, he took a direct hit from a swinging strike of the baton.

Then, utilizing the momentum of their reset positions, he delivered a powerful front kick straight to the opponent's abdomen.

Immediately following this, he raised his arm for a side elbow strike, seizing the opening created by the opponent's lateral dodge to execute a wrist-locking grappling technique.

The man in black attempted to pull his hand back to counterattack, only to find his wrist gripped as if by iron pliers, making it impossible to break free.

Seeing that the opponent's strength was significantly weaker than his own, Fang Cheng immediately swung his arm, forcefully slamming the man in black against the wall.

In an instant, his combat strategy was set.

Leverage his physical strength and constitution advantages to engage in close-quarters combat, thereby restricting the space needed for the opponent to wield his weapon.

*Bang!*

The man in black let out a muffled groan, the baton slipping from his hand as he was unexpectedly slammed into the wall.

However, his movements were exceptionally agile.

The moment his back touched the wall, his entire body contorted in an incredibly bizarre manner.

Fang Cheng felt as if the fingers gripping the opponent's wrist had suddenly grasped empty air.

*Zip.*

The man in black actually slipped out of the restraint and slid rapidly along the wall to a distance.

He rolled once, dropped to one knee, and assumed a crouching stance.

Behind the eye slits of his mask, a pair of eyes flickered with a faint, sharp light.

Then, he slowly drew a butterfly knife from a leg pouch.

*Swish, swish, swish!*

He flicked it twice using a rapid opening technique.

Then, switching to a reverse grip, he revealed the glinting blade, his eyes fixed intently on Fang Cheng.

This flashy knife manipulation suggested he was likely highly skilled with flexible, compact weapons like daggers.

Seeing the opponent draw a lethal weapon, Fang Cheng naturally would not choose to face him empty-handed.

With a flick of his toe, he kicked the baton up from the ground, catching it mid-air.

*Whoosh!*

The man in black kicked off the floor, instantly transitioning from a crouch into a sprinting start.

With a mere blur of movement, he lunged forward, moving as fast as a gust of wind.

Fang Cheng's pupils constricted; in his field of vision, only an afterimage remained.

Even when Majima Goro transformed, with his developed thigh muscles and explosive speed, he had never reached such an exaggerated level.

Fang Cheng widened his eyes, capturing the trajectory of the blade within the afterimage.

He immediately swung the baton in a horizontal sweep, striking out fiercely.

But the opponent seemed to be using a feint.

After a deceptive forward thrust, he followed up with a low, sweeping arm strike, lunging toward Fang Cheng's lower abdomen at an extreme angle.

Fang Cheng's reactions were also incredibly fast; he had already begun stepping back, dodging the ambush by a mere half-centimeter.

However—

The opponent changed his move again!

The butterfly knife spun on his fingertips, transitioning from a reverse grip to a forward grip, performing a reverse-edge slash that aimed straight for the right wrist holding the baton.

Three stabs in a single second—the speed was blistering, and the technique was incredibly cunning.

It was a dizzying display, several times more sharp and lethal than a kung fu superstar in a movie.

Seeing that there was no time for a standard defensive maneuver, Fang Cheng loosened his grip. The baton slid down his palm, pressed against his arm to serve as makeshift armor to help parry the blade.

Simultaneously, he delivered a side kick to force the opponent back, once again creating distance.

*Drip.*

Though he had avoided the vital inner wrist, the back of his arm was still slashed.

Blood stained his clothes, dripping steadily onto the floor.

Fang Cheng took a deep breath, his eyes locked onto the extremely dangerous opponent before him.

Perhaps due to the brief burst of energy, the man in black appeared slightly winded and stopped to adjust his breathing.

If Majima Goro represented the limit of superhuman strength, then—

This guy could be described as a different kind of "monster" of agility.

Fang Cheng's expression remained unchanged as he glanced at the 9 free attribute points on his status panel.

He still chose not to allocate them.

Real combat was the best way to hone one's skills!

How could he easily give up such a rare opportunity for an even match?

"Besides..."

Fang Cheng's eyes seemed to ignite with orange flames.

"With two attributes at 20 points, how could I be so weak that I can't even catch a flea like you?"

After the initial exchange, he had gained a preliminary understanding of the opponent's strength.

He decisively tossed aside the somewhat unwieldy baton and then crooked his middle finger at the man in black, signaling him to continue the attack.

The man in black froze for a moment, looking somewhat stunned.

Then, he let out a sharp snort through his nose, seemingly provoked. He immediately pushed off the ground and charged with the knife, showing no mercy.

His speed actually seemed even faster than before!

With a *whoosh*, a hurricane seemed to whip through the corridor, threatening to swallow anyone in its path.

"Focus Skill, activate!"

Fang Cheng's gaze grew calm, staring at the clear silhouette of the opponent as he emerged from a blur of afterimages.

Earlier, it was simply his first encounter with such a bizarre opponent; he had failed to keep up with the rhythm of the attack.

Now that he had adapted to the tempo and activated the Focus skill, Fang Cheng could say he could see the opponent's patterns clearly.

*Swish! Swish! Swish!*

The man in black's knife work remained cunning and lethal, alternating between forward grips and reverse grips to slash at the abdomen and interrupt thrusts.

If Fang Cheng's mental attributes weren't high enough and his neural reactions weren't fast enough, an ordinary person would likely have been stabbed into a bloody mess within a second.

Of course, this fighting style was somewhat "dirty."

It made it difficult for Fang Cheng to strike or kick, forcing him to rely solely on agile footwork to continuously retreat.

The man in black, however, was relentless and ferocious.

Every thrust brought him one step closer.

Previously, Fang Cheng had wanted to engage in close-quarters combat; now, it was the man in black who wanted to close the distance as quickly as possible.

In a battle between masters, the goal is often to find the perfect distance amidst offense and defense to deliver the fatal blow!

Seeing that Fang Cheng had retreated to the end of the corridor and was about to be backed against the wall with nowhere to hide, the man in black's eyes flickered, seemingly revealing a hint of a smile.

At that moment.

Fang Cheng suddenly inhaled to build momentum, lowered his shoulders, and slammed violently into the closed door on the right side of the corridor.

*Crash!*

Under the massive impact, the door lock was smashed open, and the door swung wildly off its hinges.

Fang Cheng rolled forward, using the momentum to scramble into the pitch-black room.

The man in black was momentarily stunned, his movement pausing for a second.

Then, with a hint of annoyance, he bolted after him.

He could not allow his opponent the chance to escape through a window.

However.

Just as his front foot crossed the threshold while his back foot was still outside.

*Pop!*

As if a firecracker had exploded, a violent gust of wind rushed toward his face.

The man in black's pupils constricted.

He saw a leg cutting through the darkness, tracing a crescent arc, kicking directly toward his face.

In this situation, both sides of his body were blocked by the doorframe and the wall.

He had to either take the kick head-on or retreat rapidly to dodge.

There was no third option!

The man in black, bold and highly skilled, raised his dagger to counterattack directly.

As he swung his hand to strike, he had already planned his follow-up moves: how to stab the calf, sever the tendon, and then pull upward to completely cripple this insolent fellow's leg.

Within that one-hundredth of a second.

Under his gaze, as the glinting blade was about to make contact and pierce the flesh.

That leg suddenly contorted at an impossible angle.

And then—

The blade barely grazed the leg, only slicing the fabric of the trousers before missing entirely.

It was as if that leg were made of rubber!

*Thud!*

Under the man in black's incredulous gaze, a heavy whip kick slammed into his face.

In slow motion, his head snapped back, his cheek deforming slightly under the pressure of the foot.

(End of Chapter)