Beginning with the Ubume Bird-Chapter 606 - 38: A Fight to the Death?

Lady Dan’s fists were clenched tightly.

Ju Mang, ranked third, turned his head and asked the man with the shawl hair, "How many shots was it when Pang Chunhao last lost to Yang Zheng?"

"Thirteen hundred shots. That was a long time ago. Back then, Red-Hearted Roar wasn’t nearly as powerful as it is now,"

Upon hearing this, Ju Mang laughed dryly, "So this time Pang Chunhao lost to Yang Zheng again, he must have improved, right?"

The shawl-haired man shook his head, "Yang Zheng has always been the type who gets stronger as he fights. If you ask me, if you can’t resolve him within thirteen hundred shots, then there’s probably no hope. What’s the use of taking a few more shots? Two thousand? Three thousand? Besides, Yang Zheng isn’t just this capable."

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The chaotic bullets stirred up a storm-like soundwave, sweeping away the Disaster Water, Dragon Mist, and even the torrential rain from Thousand Prosperous Clouds, creating a vacuum band centered around Yang Zheng.

Because Zhan Yuejin’s cup was too small, no matter how formidable the power of Red-Hearted Roar was, at most it could turn Li Yan’s Disaster Water into a full cup of steam. With the Force of Ten Thousand Aspects activated, Li Yan could freely shuttle through the mist, barely holding on under Yang Zheng’s assault.

But if the speed of the bullets increased once more, Li Yan might not be able to hold on any longer.

As uncomfortable as it was, Li Yan also had to admit that even if he were hit by a Red-Hearted Roar, he would have to pay the price with a Ghost Chariot as a substitution for death.

Perhaps the limit of Qilian True Explanation was much higher than that of Red-Hearted Roar, but for Li Yan right now, the power of Red-Hearted Roar was equal to that of the Qilian True Explanation—both were fatal in one strike.

"Indeed, I’m no match..."

Li Yan moved swiftly and erratically through the fog, or merged into the vast mist, specter-like, weaving through the bullet storm.

A severe sense of powerlessness gnawed at Li Yan’s nerves. But his eyes showed not a trace of hesitation, rather they were focused and fervent.

That look, Yang Zheng felt he had seen before.

"Why are there so many crazies in this world?"

Yang Zheng complained, yet failed to see the unusual gleam in his own eyes.

Suddenly,

Out of the mist, a giant steel hand engulfed in black flames reached out, forcefully grasping towards Yang Zheng.

Without a glance, Yang Zheng shot three bullets in a T-formation, hitting the "Ascender" in the mist, nearly instantaneously destroying the giant Ascender like a steel colossus.

The Ascender’s neck cavity, with features formed of black flames, let out a mournful cry and suddenly weakened.

White flames blazed on its back, the features made of fire laughed wildly as the originally illuminated nine orbs of the Tri-Orb Device on its spine climbed higher. Thirteen, fourteen...

This time, however, Li Yan didn’t plan to use the Soul-forgiving Water to suppress the Ascender.

A chill suddenly rose in Yang Zheng’s heart, feeling an unparalleled evil allure that seemed to dissolve everything in this world, leaving no trace behind.

He pulled something out from his personal seal, tightly grasped it in his hand, then charged at the Ascender, slapping his palm on the Ascender’s body. The towering figure stiffened, involuntarily turning into a red light that was captured within a mahjong tile.

The mahjong tile fell to the ground, its image depicting an Ascender bathed in scarlet steam.

Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, a purple halo struck him head-on.

Ghost Chariot Self-Detonate!

Hundred Ghosts Night Walk! Earth Destruction Heavenly Star! Six Ren Blood Cry Curse...

"Has he really been in Yan Fu for less than two years?"

Yang Zheng drew his dual pistols, actually choosing to attack instead of defend, with Forty-Six Moves of Taiping Yin Technique alternating rapidly. The ripples of echoing gunfire made Yang Zheng’s face flicker between light and shadow, and in the interplay of light, Li Yan’s face suddenly appeared behind Yang Zheng, with the Jumu Great Sword slashing diagonally down...

Zhan Yuejin covered his cup with his hand, with white mist ceaselessly spilling out between his fingers.

The representatives of the Yan Zhao Club held their breath; they truly hadn’t expected Li Yan to fight Yang Zheng to this extent.

Inside the cup.

Li Yan’s hands trembled unceasingly, his eyes fixedly staring at the mist.

A clear trail of blood ran from Yang Zheng’s neck down to his waist.

Click~

Yang Zheng’s hand loosened slightly, tossing a fractured Red Center Mahjong tile to the ground.

He reloaded unhurriedly, locking eyes with the expressionless Li Yan.

"This mahjong piece, given to me four years ago by Yunnan’s Elder as a gift. I’ve never used it before, wanting to keep it as a memento, but I didn’t expect it to be destroyed by you."

Li Yan actually started laughing. He switched to holding the great sword with one hand, exuding soaring fighting spirit as he asked, "Did Zhao Elder give you two of them back then?"

After speaking, he swallowed the Weekly Tribute Eight Delicacies: Cicada Cheese that Cha Xiaodao had given him.

Without a second thought, Yang Zheng took out a stainless steel flask emblazoned with a red star from his personal seal and poured it into his mouth.

The momentum of both men was climbing higher and higher!

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In the venue, many people let out a sigh of relief. If there were no other accidents, they believed the outcome was already decided.

However, many in the second seat were grim-faced, especially Commissioner Bai, whose face was so dark it seemed like it could drip water.

Lady Dan took a deep breath, her fingernails digging deep, then suddenly stood up, "Mr. Zhao, can you guarantee there will be no fatalities or severe after-effects in this duel?"

Zhao Jianzhong glanced at her, "If I say no, are you going to concede defeat?"

Lady Dan was just about to speak when Zhao Jianzhong cut her off, "Your concern for him is understandable, but at this time, you should shut your mouth and wait for the result quietly. Sit down."

Lady Dan bit down on her silver teeth in secret, yet she couldn’t bring herself to sit down no matter what.

"Others think Li Yan is bound to lose, I understand,"

Zhu Jiuyin suddenly spoke up, "Do you think so too?"

Zhu Jiuyin’s words left many people puzzled.

"What does he mean?"

Cha Xiaodao was as confused as a monk encountering an equation.

Zhao Xuantan beside him explained, "Yang Zheng’s bluff has been called. Now, both of them are fighting desperately."

Cha Xiaodao asked in surprise, "Wasn’t Yang always pressing Li Yan down in the fight?"

"Yang Zheng is known as the first among the three seats. Isn’t it easy for him to crush an Ascender who’s just begun his path?"

Zhao Xuantan counter-asked, then paused before adding, "I guess, Yang Zheng initially wanted to use his formidable stance to force the opponent to retreat knowing it was difficult. Unfortunately, the Red Center Mahjong meant for his death still showed his weakness."

"What weakness?"

Cha Xiaodao asked back.

Zhao Xuantan looked towards a paper cup on the seat, "Yang Zheng has been injured."

Outside the venue, in the ruins of the abandoned city below, Pang Chunhao, covered in miserable wounds, still stood erect in the shadow of a tall building.

"Both of them are injured,"

Miss Mei joined in.

"Li Yan has superficial injuries, but Yang Zheng’s wounds are much more serious. Moreover, this Li Yan is truly impressive, his lethal moves come one after another. Even if it were someone else from the three seats, even me, I’m afraid they would take a tumble at his hands,"

Zhao Xuantan said concisely.

"Now, both men are at the end of their ropes."

"So who will win?"

Miss Mei and Cha Xiaodao asked in unison.

In the water cup, the turbulent waves raged, dark and pressing like a sweeping storm. Both seemed to have a last burst of light, regaining their peak strength,

Thousand Prosperous Clouds, Force of Ten Thousand Aspects, Disaster Water waves, holes after holes get punctured and then immediately filled.

In the storm of bullets from Yang Zheng, Li Yan’s afterimages were everywhere.

Yang Zheng was drenched in sweat, the deadly great sword sporadically appearing at his throat, head, chest, and groin. If his gun sight failed to keep up for even a moment, he would face immediate decapitation.

Conversely, even a momentary sign of fatigue from Li Yan, now at seven hundred shots, could enable Yang Zheng to end it all with one shot!

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"Hard to say,"

Zhao Xuantan clicked his tongue, "It’s too difficult to predict."