"Weren’t you going to teach me a lesson? Come on, then! Hit me!"
Jiang Cheng was like a frenzied beast, raining down punches and kicks. Yet Ren Yuanhao remained on one knee, battered but unbroken—his pride wouldn’t allow him to collapse.
"Get on your knees! Kowtow and admit defeat, and maybe I’ll let you go! Do it!"
Jiang Cheng yanked Ren Yuanhao’s hair, forcing his head down with a vicious sneer. His laughter was icy, sending chills down the spines of those watching. But Ren Yuanhao was stubborn as an ox—instead of bowing, he resisted, his body tensing upward.
At that moment, Shen Lanni finally broke through the crowd and rushed to the edge of the ring. Her glare was sharp as a blade, her voice cutting through the noise like frost:
"Jiang Cheng! If you dare take this any further, I swear you won’t leave this park unharmed!"
"It’s that tigress—Shen Lanni from the Lan’ni Taekwondo Gym!"
"Pissing off that woman is a death wish."
Many in the crowd recognized her—her fiery temper and formidable skills were well-known. She wasn’t making empty threats.
The livestreamers, always hungry for drama, immediately swiveled their cameras toward her—a striking figure in red, poised like an unsheathed sword.
Jiang Cheng scoffed, his grin twisted with arrogance. "Oh? You think you can protect this pretty boy?"
A referee approached Shen Lanni, urging her to step back. But she stood firm, declaring coldly:
"I demand this match be canceled."
"I’m afraid that’s not possible unless both participants agree. Please step aside—you’re disrupting the event."
Shen Lanni didn’t budge. Her eyes, sharp as daggers, remained locked onto Jiang Cheng.
Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng had one foot planted on Ren Yuanhao’s back, his grip tightening in his hair as he raised a hand—ready to strike. Trembling with excitement, he sneered:
"Your little girlfriend wants to call it off. Fine. I’ll stop… if you get on both knees, crawl between my legs, and admit defeat. How’s that sound?"
The audience couldn’t hear their exchange, but the tension was palpable. In all the years of the Martial Arts Association’s tournaments, no match had ever spiraled into such open brutality.
Ren Yuanhao didn’t react with anger. Instead, he chuckled softly.
"Feels like you’re tickling me. Put some real effort into it, will you?"
His voice was low, but every word struck Jiang Cheng’s ears like a slap. Rage burned in his eyes—already clouded by hatred—and with a roar, he aimed a vicious kick straight at Ren Yuanhao’s chest!
But his foot met empty air.
Somehow, Ren Yuanhao had already shifted two meters away—his movements fluid, betraying no sign of the beating he’d just endured.
"**Cloud Step**?! How the hell did you learn that?!" Jiang Cheng’s disbelief was laced with jealousy.
The crowd, though confused, erupted in cheers as Ren Yuanhao broke free. In their eyes, this underdog’s refusal to surrender had already won their hearts.
The **Cloud Step**—the second technique Master Shixiong had taught him in the mountains—was part of the *Six Secrets of Qinghe*. A life-saving move, usable only in dire straits.
"Seems like Young Master Jiang’s skills are too shallow to even grasp the second technique. Tell me… have you even *seen* the third?"
Jiang Cheng scoffed. "The Six Secrets of Qinghe—*Bow Strike, Cloud Step, Phantom Flash*—each one harder than the last. You’ll never pull off the third! And even if you did, it wouldn’t change a damn thing!"
His confidence came from the genetic enhancers coursing through his veins—raw, unnatural strength.
Ren Yuanhao smirked. "True. I never planned to change the outcome. Because in *my* ending, *you* are the one on the ground."
Jiang Cheng burst into laughter, as if hearing the world’s greatest joke. Then—with a sudden lunge—he charged like a raging bull, his stomps shaking the platform. His shoulder slammed forward, aiming to crush Ren Yuanhao’s ribs.
This wasn’t martial arts anymore. It was brute force—a beast’s brawl.
Ren Yuanhao gritted his teeth against the pain, pivoting lightly on his toes. Like a matador evading a bull, he sidestepped with eerie grace.
Just as hope flickered in his chest—
***Beep. New order generated. Host, proceed to the client’s location immediately to avoid tardiness penalties.***
—*What the hell?! Who the fuck schedules a delivery NOW?!*
Ren Yuanhao’s face darkened. The distraction cost him—Jiang Cheng seized the opening, driving him back into a corner with relentless blows.
The fight had dragged on too long. Other competitors didn’t mind—the more these two exhausted each other, the easier their own matches would be.
The audience, too, was riveted. Only Ren Yuanhao was in a hurry.
Meanwhile, Lin Yue—finally snapping out of her daze—checked her watch urgently before suddenly leaping to her feet, eyes alight with realization.
Jiang Cheng, sensing weakness, pressed his advantage. But strangely, the pain from Ren Yuanhao’s injuries was fading—whether from the *Six Qi Blood Pill* or the *Ocean Breath Technique*, his body was recovering mid-fight.
He blocked Jiang Cheng’s strikes with everything he had… only to notice the attacks growing weaker.
Then—Jiang Cheng froze. He stared at his own hands, confusion flashing across his face.
Ren Yuanhao didn’t hesitate. Feinting backward, he began circling—clockwise, then counterclockwise—until, in Jiang Cheng’s disoriented vision, *seven* afterimages of Ren Yuanhao surrounded him.
"**It’s over.**"
The phantoms struck simultaneously from all directions. Jiang Cheng flailed blindly, but seven piercing jabs—sharp as blades—sank into his torso.
A guttural scream tore from his throat. His eyes rolled back—and like a broken puppet, he crumpled to the mat.
The arena exploded in uproarious cheers. The referee stared in shock before rushing onto the platform alongside the judges. The outcome was undeniable.
Ren Yuanhao grabbed Jiang Cheng’s collar, but there was no gloating in his eyes—just cold disdain.
**"You’re nothing but a cockroach in my eyes. What’s there to be proud of?"**