Celestial Human Diagram-Chapter 102 - 90: Breaking the Momentum

Tong Baitao saw the corpse flying toward him and ruthlessly batted it aside. He let it fly off to the side as he gripped his steel rods and strode forward with fierce valor.

Standing at the entrance, Tong Qianjiang suddenly raised his hand, aiming the muzzle of his gun at Chen Chuan’s head. He didn’t fire, but the threat was palpable.

It was the tacit understanding between the brothers: when one attacked, the other provided cover.

Meanwhile, on the roof of the Sentry Post, Spider Old Qi was skittering back and forth, deliberately making rustling sounds. He was both announcing his presence and waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Chen Chuan registered all of this with his senses. As Tong Baitao’s figure loomed larger before him, he moved as well, advancing to meet his opponent. His Long Blade swung in an upward diagonal slash.

To guard against the distant handgun and the threat from the roof, he held back his full speed. The trajectory of his slash was thus crystal clear. Propelled by the Mutated Organization within him, a surge of Power flowed into the blade.

Tong Baitao hastily brought his two steel rods down, attempting to block the blade. He managed to parry it, but an unbelievable, explosive force radiated from the impact. He instantly lost his grip; one steel rod was sent flying, and the other was severed with a sharp CLANG.

The flash of the blade continued unabated, sweeping toward his chest. In an instant, it carved a deep gash into his thoracic carapace, revealing the inner shell tissue and cavity wall beneath. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Had the blade gone any deeper, it would have severely wounded Tong Baitao, if not killed him outright. But just then, Chen Chuan sensed a sudden movement from above and behind. He immediately retracted his blade, whipping it around his head in a defensive arc to knock aside a dart aimed at his skull. He then shot forward, his Long Blade slashing diagonally with the momentum.

As he lunged forward, a gunshot cracked through the air. A bullet grazed the back of his head, shearing off a lock of hair, but his expression remained unchanged.

The force of the initial impact had thrown Tong Baitao’s arms upward, forcing him to lean back. He still hadn’t recovered when Chen Chuan’s follow-up slash landed squarely on his ribs.

But the force of the blade, which should have split him in two, encountered a constricting, layered Soft Power after piercing his hard outer carapace. It felt like innumerable layers of muscle, contracting with a powerful clamping force that halted the blade’s advance and trapped it within his flesh.

A glint flashed in Chen Chuan’s eyes. ’This isn’t just the Implant,’ he realized instantly. ’It’s a form of Power designed to block and neutralize sharp weapons!’

A cunning glint appeared in Tong Baitao’s eyes. He brought his arm down, clamping it against his body. In concert with his constricting internal muscles, he locked the blade firmly in place.

Though he looked burly and brutish, he wasn’t as reckless as he appeared. He had just executed a clever ploy. He recognized that Chen Chuan’s Snow Monarch Blade was the greatest threat, so he decided to risk injury to neutralize the Weapon.

’Armed or unarmed, it’s a world of difference,’ he thought. ’With that blade, none of us dare to get close and surround him. But once it’s gone, that kid has no chance bare-handed against those of us with Implants!’

Chen Chuan’s eyes remained calm. An ordinary person would have been in a desperate situation, their combat effectiveness plummeting without their Weapon, but he was different.

He released his grip on the blade and took a step forward. Propelled by a Force Technique, his body flowed with the power, and he thrust a palm at his opponent’s face.

The palm strike didn’t seem fast, but as Tong Baitao watched it grow larger in his field of vision, his pupils contracted. He sensed immense danger.

With a grunt, the cloth over his bulging shoulder blades suddenly ripped apart as two more deformed, long arms shot out, crossing to block the blow.

Chen Chuan seemed utterly unfazed by the grotesque sight. His hand continued its advance. Upon contact, a Soft Power pushed both of the grotesque hands back toward Tong Baitao’s face.

The Mutated Organization within his body surged, layer upon layer. If this strike landed, the resulting Penetration Force, even if it failed to shatter his opponent’s skull, would be enough to incapacitate him briefly.

However, just as the blow was about to connect, he sensed something and tilted his head to the side. A poison dart shot down from above, struck his shoulder, and glanced off his Protective Clothing.

This brief pause gave Tong Baitao an opening. His two extra arms shot up to grab Chen Chuan’s striking arm, while his two normal arms wrapped around Chen Chuan’s waist, pulling him in close.

Chen Chuan ignored the crushing Penetration Force of the embrace. He drove his knee up, halting his forward momentum. Just then, his eyes flickered and he threw his head back. As Tong Qianjiang’s gun fired, a bullet zipped past his face. He used the backward lean to create a sliver of space, then brought his raised foot down, stomping hard on Tong Baitao’s ankle.

Tong Baitao’s face contorted in pain, and the strength in his grip involuntarily slackened.

Chen Chuan sank his weight and twisted at the waist, unbelievably wrenching Tong Baitao’s large frame into the air and slamming him onto the ground. The impact nearly knocked the air out of him. Seizing the opportunity, Chen Chuan grabbed the hilt of the Snow Monarch Blade. He first pushed it outward slightly, then forcefully pried it inward!

Tong Baitao let out a piercing shriek. A rapid series of gunshots rang out from behind, but none found their mark on Chen Chuan. Clearly, Tong Qianjiang was growing desperate.

After pulling the Snow Monarch Blade free, Chen Chuan grasped the hilt and raised it high, looking as if he was about to behead the downed Tong Baitao.

Fang Dawei, who had remained motionless, apparently still recovering from the medicine he’d taken, could finally hold back no longer. He rushed forward and aimed a sweeping kick at Chen Chuan.

Chen Chuan flicked his wrist, the blade arcing upward to meet the kick. He had intended to sever the leg, but on contact, the blade felt as if it had hit something incredibly slick and pliable, sliding right off.

Realizing this, he twisted his wrist again, turning the blade inward and the hilt outward. He jabbed the pommel into Fang Dawei’s chest and, with a forward lunge of his shoulder, sent him flying sideways.

His movements didn’t pause. Generating power from his waist, he swung the blade back around in a shimmering arc, aiming for the neck of Tong Baitao, who was just struggling to his feet.

The terrified man scrambled backward on all four hands and both feet, narrowly escaping the blade’s edge. Even so, the blade sliced past his collarbone, opening yet another wound.

Chen Chuan’s assault wasn’t over. Using the momentum from the backswing, his body flowed with the blade. Gripping the hilt with both hands, he pointed the tip forward and thrust it straight at Tong Baitao’s throat.

Tong Qianjiang let out a yell, ripped a side panel from a broken crate, and hurled it at Chen Chuan from across the room.

Chen Chuan watched with cold indifference, completely ignoring the projectile. The Mutated Organization surged, unifying his entire body into a single kinetic chain. He lunged forward, thrusting the blade home. In that instant, he felt it pierce something tough and resilient.

As the wooden panel reached his shoulder, it seemed to strike an invisible force and, with a loud CRACK, disintegrated into a shower of splinters.

As the splinters rained down, the remaining bandits saw Tong Baitao propped up by his four arms, half-sitting on the floor. His head was tilted slightly back, and the gleaming Long Blade was thrust through his throat and out the back of his neck. His eyes had rolled back into his head, and only a gurgling sound escaped his lips as his four arms and body twitched uncontrollably.

Seeing this, Tong Qianjiang’s eyes went bloodshot. With a furious roar, he abandoned his post at the entrance, raised his gun, and emptied the entire magazine at Chen Chuan. Then he snatched up a knife and charged.

Chen Chuan didn’t try to weather the storm. The moment Tong Qianjiang started firing, he yanked his blade free. As a fountain of blood erupted, he was already retreating.

Fang Dawei also rushed him, the two men converging on him in a pincer attack.

Chen Chuan eyed the two remaining opponents, flicked his blade clean, and took several light steps back, moving toward a patch of cluttered debris on the floor.

The debris was from the shattered wooden crates: empty cans, ropes, scattered tools, and even fragments of limbs and Implant carapaces. Fang Dawei and the others had kicked some of it aside to clear a fighting space, but they hadn’t had time for a thorough cleanup.

As a result, their charge was impeded. They stumbled over the clutter, their speed involuntarily slowing.

Tong Qianjiang was particularly incensed. Having seen Tong Baitao die, he was desperate to charge forward and kill Chen Chuan, but the debris kept getting in his way. He roared in fury, kicking obstacles toward Chen Chuan as he advanced.

Chen Chuan remained calm, casually batting aside the flying debris with his Snow Monarch Blade. Tong Qianjiang reached him first, raising his knife for a vicious downward chop. Chen Chuan simply lifted the Snow Monarch Blade and tapped the incoming weapon with the back of his own. Upon impact, a large chip broke off Tong Qianjiang’s blade.

Chen Chuan immediately spun his wrist, the motion like a spear’s thrust. While deflecting Tong Qianjiang’s weapon, he turned, his shoulder and back muscles unfurling as he drove his blade forward with one hand. With a sickening CHKT, it pierced through the Protective Clothing and sank deep into Tong Qianjiang’s abdomen.

Tong Qianjiang froze, his back involuntarily arching. Seeing this, Fang Dawei stopped in his tracks and remained rooted to the spot.

Chen Chuan angled his wrist slightly upward and stepped forward. Tong Qianjiang involuntarily grabbed the blade with his bare hands, stumbling backward on his tiptoes. After a dozen or so steps, he was nearly back at the Sentry Post entrance.

Chen Chuan abruptly yanked his blade free, bringing the hilt back to his chest. With a sharp cry, he gripped it with both hands, spun, and delivered a rising slash. SWISH! Tong Qianjiang’s head flew from his shoulders, sailed through the Sentry Post’s main gate, and landed on the open ground outside. His headless body swayed twice before collapsing.

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