I Become Sect master In Another World-Chapter 161: When Idiots Collide
The Martial Exchange Arena was hidden beneath the city.
Not secret—just tucked away.
A broad underground ring carved into stone, reinforced with thick pillars and layered formations meant to withstand ordinary cultivators beating each other senseless. The air was thick with sweat, dust, and anticipation. Torches lined the walls. Spectators packed the upper balconies, leaning forward with eager eyes.
This place wasn’t about honor.
It was about release.
At the registration desk, two figures stood shoulder to shoulder.
Wang Tian rolled his neck once, then cracked his knuckles loudly.
"So," he said, glancing sideways, "how many rounds before I embarrass you?"
Luo Chen didn’t look at him.
He calmly signed his name, handed over the registration token, and replied without emotion.
"Depends. How long can you stay conscious?"
Wang Tian scoffed. "Big words from someone who’s never beaten me."
Luo Chen finally turned his head.
Their eyes met.
For half a second, the surrounding noise faded.
Then both of them grinned.
Wide.
Sharp.
Predatory.
The official cleared his throat nervously and slid two wooden tokens across the table.
"Different brackets," he said quickly. "You’ll fight separately. Finals if you both make it."
Wang Tian caught his token mid-air.
"Finals?" He laughed. "Obviously."
Luo Chen turned away already, stretching his fingers.
"Don’t collapse before then."
The Early Rounds Starts.
Wang Tian stepped into the ring first.
The stone beneath his feet was already scarred—old cracks, dried blood, shallow pits left behind by countless fists and falls. Torches flickered along the walls, their flames bending slightly as his presence settled into the space.
The rules were announced again, loud and clear.
"No spiritual techniques."
"No weapons."
"No circulation of qi."
Pure body.
Pure strength.
Pure impact.
Across from him, his opponent bowed—formal, cautious, respectful. The man was tall, muscles coiled tight beneath his skin, eyes sharp with confidence earned from previous victories.
He hadn’t even finished straightening up—
Wang Tian moved.
Not fast.
Gone.
The air snapped.
A single step shattered the stone beneath Wang Tian’s foot, the sound swallowed instantly by the thunder of his forward momentum. To the crowd, he vanished in a blur—no buildup, no warning.
The opponent’s pupils shrank.
Too late.
Wang Tian’s fist drove forward.
Not wild.
Not flashy.
Straight.
Clean.
The impact landed deep into the abdomen with a dull, hollow THOOM, like a drum struck underwater.
The man’s breath exploded out of him.
His feet left the ground.
His spine arched.
For a frozen heartbeat, his body hovered—suspended by nothing but the force that had passed through him.
Then gravity remembered him.
He crashed backward into the stone, unconscious before his back even hit.
Silence fell.
A sharp, collective inhale rippled through the arena.
Then—
Uproar.
The announcer swallowed hard before shouting,
"Winner—Wang Tian!"
Wang Tian was already walking away.
He rolled his shoulders once, loosening his arms as if he had just warmed up.
Didn’t look back.
Didn’t smile.
"Too slow," he muttered, barely loud enough for the ring to hear.
The stone beneath his feet cracked again as he stepped off.
Luo Chen’s entrance was quieter.
No swagger.
No tension.
Just stillness.
He stepped into the ring as if it were a familiar place—feet placed evenly, posture relaxed, eyes half-lidded but alert. Across from him stood a broad-shouldered fighter with thick arms and a heavy stance, the type who relied on overwhelming force.
The man didn’t hesitate.
He charged.
A roar tore from his throat as he surged forward, fists swinging wide, aiming to crush Luo Chen under raw mass and momentum.
Luo Chen shifted.
Not backward.
To the side.
A single step, smooth and measured, as if he had been expecting this exact movement.
The opponent’s punch cut through empty air.
Luo Chen pivoted on his heel.
His elbow snapped out.
Short.
Precise.
No wasted motion.
The impact landed at the hinge of the jaw with a sharp, surgical CRACK—not loud, but terrifyingly clean.
The man’s body stiffened.
Eyes glassed over.
His forward momentum carried him two more steps before his legs forgot how to function.
He collapsed.
Face-first.
Unconscious before his cheek touched the stone.
Luo Chen exhaled once.
Slow.
Controlled.
The announcer stared for a moment too long before shouting,
"Winner—Luo Chen!"
A murmur swept through the crowd.
Eyes sharpened.
Postures leaned forward.
This wasn’t coincidence anymore.
The rounds blurred after that.
Second round.
Third.
Fourth.
Different opponents.
Same result.
Some tried speed.
Some tried strength.
Some tried trickery.
None lasted long enough to adjust.
Luo Chen crashed through his matches like a storm given human shape—every strike heavy, every step shaking the ring, laughter flashing across his face as bodies flew.
Wang Tian was the opposite.
Quiet.
Efficient.
Devastating.
Opponents dropped without understanding how.
The stone floor began to suffer.
Cracks spiderwebbed outward beneath their feet. Shockwaves rippled with every impact, rattling the pillars and making torches tremble. Spectators began gripping the rails unconsciously, hearts pounding—not from fear, but awe.
These weren’t normal fighters.
These weren’t normal cultivators.
They were monsters pretending the rules applied.
The Early Rounds ends.
They didn’t struggle.
They didn’t adapt.
They didn’t learn.
They were erased.
By the time the announcer called for the final match, the arena was overflowing.
People stood where they weren’t meant to.
Sat where they shouldn’t.
No one wanted to miss this.
Every eye was locked on the ring.
Because everyone knew—
This wasn’t just a final.
This was a collision.
Wang Tian and Luo Chen stepped onto the ring together.
The crowd roared.
They stood opposite each other, dust swirling between them.
Wang Tian cracked his neck.
Luo Chen flexed his fingers.
They grinned.
"You ready?" Wang Tian asked.
Luo Chen raised an eyebrow. "You should be."
The bell rang.
The sound barely finished echoing—
And they were gone.
Not moving.
Not charging.
Gone.
The space between them collapsed in an instant.
Their fists met mid-air—
BOOM!
The impact detonated like a cannon fired underground. A concussive blast tore outward, rattling the arena walls and knocking loose dust from the ceiling. Several spectators staggered back as the pressure slammed into their chests.
Before anyone could gasp—
The fight exploded.
Punches crashed forward in a merciless storm.
No rhythm. No pattern. No mercy.
Fists collided with forearms. Elbows snapped toward ribs. Knees rose viciously. Kicks cut through the air with the sound of tearing cloth.
Wang Tian spun hard on his heel.
His leg whipped around—
CRACK!
The kick smashed into Luo Chen’s ribs with bone-jarring force.
Luo Chen slid backward across the stone, boots grinding, pain flashing across his face for half a breath—
Then he twisted.
Planted.
Surged forward.
His knee drove upward like a battering ram, aiming straight for Wang Tian’s core.
Wang Tian crossed his forearm just in time.
THUD!
The impact sent him skidding backward, heels carving twin lines through stone as he absorbed the blow. The ground beneath his feet fractured with a sharp snap.
They didn’t stop.
Didn’t reset.
Didn’t hesitate.
They crashed back together.
Stone shattered beneath them.
Cracks spider-webbed across the ring, spreading wider with every collision. The audience screamed as pieces of the floor broke loose, bouncing and skidding toward the edges.
No one could follow them anymore.
Not with their eyes.
Only fragments remained—
A shoulder slamming forward. A body twisting mid-strike. A blur colliding with another blur.
Two figures crashing together like human meteors.
Luo Chen dropped low.
His body coiled—
Then exploded upward.
An uppercut tore toward Wang Tian’s jaw, fast enough to crack the air itself.
Wang Tian twisted at the last possible instant.
The punch grazed past his cheek.
Too close.
He spun with the momentum.
His kick slammed into Luo Chen’s abdomen—
BAM!
Luo Chen staggered back, breath bursting from his lungs.
Wang Tian surged forward immediately.
A straight punch, driving, brutal—
Luo Chen sidestepped.
His hand sliced across Wang Tian’s neck in a sharp, open-handed strike.
Both felt it.
Both ignored it.
They jumped backward at the same time.
The stone between them exploded upward as they landed, dust and fragments erupting like smoke from a bomb.
For a single heartbeat—
They stood still.
Chests heaving.
Blood slid from the corner of Wang Tian’s mouth.
He wiped it away with his thumb.
Then laughed.
A sharp, feral grin split his face.
"That all you got?"
Luo Chen spat blood onto the cracked stone.
His smile was calm.
Almost gentle.
"My sister hits harder."
The laughter vanished.
Wang Tian’s grin twisted into something dangerous.
"Oh," he said softly, rolling his neck.
"You’re dead."
The ground beneath them creaked.
The arena groaned.
And everyone watching knew—
This fight was no longer contained.
Their control snapped.
Not by will.
Not by intent.
By instinct.
By rage.
By two bodies pushed past the edge without realizing it.
Something burst.
Invisible pressure exploded outward first—like the world itself flinched. Then color bled into it, raw and violent. Energy tore free from their bodies in jagged surges, uncontrolled and savage, slamming outward in every direction.
The arena’s suppression formation shrieked.
Lines of light flickered—then shattered like glass.
Purple and blue power crashed outward, folding stone and air alike. The ring beneath them caved in, its surface cracking and collapsing as if struck by an invisible hammer.
The referee screamed.
"STOP—! YOU’RE VIOLATING—!"
His warning never finished.
The shockwave hit him mid-step.
His body lifted off the ground like a broken doll and slammed into the far wall with a sickening CRASH. Stone burst outward. Dust filled the air.
He didn’t move again.
Panic detonated through the crowd.
People screamed.
Benches overturned.
Spectators scrambled toward exits, trampling over each other as chunks of stone began raining from above. The underground arena groaned, ancient supports creaking under pressure they were never meant to bear.
But none of that reached them.
Wang Tian and Luo Chen saw nothing else.
Heard nothing else.
Felt nothing else.
Only each other.
They charged.
No footwork. No tactics. No restraint.
Just violence.
Fists raised.
Bodies tearing through collapsing air.
Their punches collided—
BOOOOOOM!
The impact detonated like a thunderclap sealed underground. A visible shockwave ripped outward, slamming into the arena walls. The ceiling split open with a deafening crack, long fractures racing outward as rubble began to fall in heavy chunks.
Dust swallowed everything.
They roared.
Not words.
Soundless fury torn from their chests. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦
They surged again—
Wang Tian’s right fist.
Luo Chen’s left.
Both driven by everything they had left.
They struck at the exact same instant.
Fist met face.
Face met fist.
CRAAAAASH!
The sound was not metal.
Not stone.
It was flesh meeting flesh with catastrophic force.
Both bodies snapped backward.
Blood sprayed through the air in red arcs as they were hurled across the shattered ring, skidding violently over broken stone and debris.
They slammed into the ground hard enough to carve shallow craters beneath them.
The arena shook.
Not violently at first.
Not explosively.
It trembled the way a body trembles just before collapse.
Dust hung thick in the air, drifting slowly, swallowing shattered stone and broken screams alike. Chunks of rubble lay scattered where seats once stood. Cracks webbed across the walls, spreading outward like fractures in glass.
And then—
Silence.
Not peace.
Not calm.
The kind of silence that comes when the world is holding its breath.
From opposite ends of the ruined ring—
They stood.
Wang Tian straightened first.
Blood streaked from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto broken stone, but his grin hadn’t faded. If anything, it had sharpened—wild, exhilarated, unhinged.
Luo Chen pushed himself upright a heartbeat later.
Dust clung to his clothes. His chest rose and fell hard. A thin line of blood ran down his jaw.
He smiled back.
Not mocking.
Not arrogant.
Insane.
Two men standing in devastation they had created—
And wanting more.
They slid their feet back.
Stone ground beneath their soles.
Both bent their arms slightly, fists drawing back as muscles tightened and veins rose. The air around them began to vibrate, pressure building fast and violently.
Golden sparks erupted.
Not controlled.
Not refined.
Raw spiritual energy leaked through their bodies, condensing around their fists in crackling arcs of light. The air screamed as it was crushed and reshaped.
They inhaled—
And roared as one.
"DRAGON FIST—!!"
Golden energy exploded outward.
Two spiritual dragons burst from their fists, massive and furious, scales forged from condensed force rather than flame. Their roars tore through the underground space, shaking what little structure remained.
They collided mid-air.
The impact erased sound.
Light consumed everything.
A blinding golden detonation swallowed the arena whole, pressure flattening walls, pulverizing stone, and blasting outward through tunnels and streets above like a buried catastrophe clawing its way to the surface.
The underground world ceased to exist.
Sunlight glinted off polished glass.
The jewelry shop was warm, quiet, refined.
Elder Liya stepped out first, sleeves draped neatly, her expression relaxed for once.
Mu Qian followed, examining a small box in her hands.
"These designs are lovely," Su Quan said cheerfully, turning a bracelet toward the light.
Elder Liya smiled.
"I bought some for Lin Shu," she said lightly. "I hope she likes them."
The street was calm.
Crowded.
Alive.
Then—
Elder Wan stopped walking.
His body stiffened as if struck by invisible lightning.
His head snapped sharply to the left.
His pupils contracted.
"...That aura."
The word left his mouth low and strained.
Elder Liya’s smile vanished instantly.
Not faded.
Not softened.
Gone.
Her eyes hardened.
Her jaw tightened.
The ground beneath their feet—
BOOOOOOM!
A thunderous explosion ripped through the city several streets away. The shockwave surged through stone and air alike, rattling shop windows, sending birds screaming into the sky.
People cried out.
Stalls shook.
Dust rose in the distance.
Elder Wan’s eyes widened.
"Wait— that’s—"
He didn’t finish.
Elder Liya clenched her fist.
Veins bulged along her forearm.
Her aura spiked—sharp, furious, terrifying.
"Those two idiots."
The air folded.
She vanished.
Not ran.
Not leaped.
Gone.
Leaving a ripple in space and three stunned figures staring at the rising dust cloud in the distance.
Dust swallowed the sky.
What had once been streets and stalls was now a rising cloud of shattered stone and pulverized earth, rolling outward like a living thing. Cries echoed from below as people fled, stumbling over debris, eyes lifted toward the catastrophe unfolding above them.
From within that dust—
A figure burst upward.
Wang Tian shot into the air like a cannonball, purple light trailing behind him in jagged streaks. His laughter cut through the chaos, wild and exhilarated.
Before he could stabilize—
Luo Chen followed.
His body twisted mid-air, muscles coiling as his fist swung forward without hesitation.
They collided again.
Mid-air.
Purple and blue light exploded outward, violent flashes tearing through the haze like lightning. Shockwaves slammed downward, flattening debris and knocking fleeing figures off their feet.
People screamed.
They looked up.
And saw monsters fighting in the sky.
Wang Tian rolled his shoulders, drawing his sword in one smooth motion. Purple light flared along the blade as he raised it high, aura roaring unchecked.
"GET READY!" he shouted, grin feral. "YOU LOSE—"
The words never finished.
SMASH!
A fist descended from above.
Not fast.
Not flashy.
Absolute.
The impact erased Wang Tian from the sky.
His body vanished downward, purple aura shattering like glass as he was hurled into the earth below.
BOOOOOOM!
The ground detonated.
Stone burst upward as a massive crater formed, shockwaves ripping through nearby structures. Walls collapsed. Roofs caved in. Dust surged anew.
Luo Chen froze mid-air.
His sword trembled in his hand.
Then—
His aura died.
Gone.
As if someone had extinguished a flame with a single thought.
Cold sweat poured down his temples, soaking his collar as his heart slammed against his ribs.
Slowly—
A figure floated before him.
Arms crossed.
Robes unmoving despite the chaos.
Eyes burning with restrained fury.
Elder Liya.
The pressure alone made Luo Chen’s knees weak.
He sheathed his sword so fast the motion blurred, hands shaking.
"I-It wasn’t me!" he blurted, words tumbling over each other. "It was all Wang Tian’s idea! I swear—!"
Below—
Stone cracked.
A hand emerged from the crater.
Then another.
Wang Tian staggered upright, dust cascading off his shoulders, blood streaking his face as he spat grit onto the ground.
"WHO DARE—"
He looked up.
And saw her.
The color drained from his face.
His grin vanished.
His soul left his body.
Before he could react—
Luo Chen slammed into him from the side.
Both crashed back into the crater, colliding in a cloud of dust and broken stone.
Silence followed.
Then—
Elder Liya descended.
Slowly.
Each step through the air felt heavier than the last, invisible pressure pressing down on everything beneath her. The ground groaned as she landed, arms still crossed, gaze cold enough to freeze blood.
Wang Tian and Luo Chen crawled out of the crater.
They stood.
Then backed away instinctively.
Trembling.
Wang Tian clenched his fists, teeth grinding as stubborn pride flared weakly.
"H-How dare you interrupt us—"
Luo Chen’s hand clamped over his mouth instantly.
"SHUT UP!" he hissed, eyes wide with terror. "Do you want to die?!"
He bowed deeply, forcing Wang Tian’s head down with him.
"Our mistake," Luo Chen said quickly, voice tight. "We’re leaving. Immediately."
They turned.
A single word followed them.
"Stop."
Their bodies froze.
Elder Liya turned her gaze outward.
Around them—
The market district lay in ruins.
Shops reduced to rubble.
Stalls overturned.
Merchants kneeling in dust, faces pale, eyes hollow with shock.
Cracked streets.
Collapsed walls.
The cost of their stupidity written everywhere.
Elder Liya spoke without looking back.
"Who’s paying for this?"
Wang Tian blinked.
Luo Chen slowly turned his head.
Their eyes widened.
"...The entire... market?" Luo Chen whispered, voice trembling. "D-Do we... pay for this?"
Elder Liya finally looked at them.
Her stare was death.
Wang Tian swallowed hard.
"If we pay..." his voice cracked, "...we’ll be broke."
Elder Liya turned away.
"Not my problem."
She walked off, robes swaying calmly.
"Don’t come back," she said over her shoulder, "until you compensate everyone."
Behind her, Elder Wan stepped forward, already speaking calmly with shaken shopkeepers, recording damages with quiet efficiency.
After a moment, he turned back.
"Fifty-three," he said simply.
Wang Tian and Luo Chen stared at each other.
No words.
No complaints.
Just hollow eyes.
Dead inside.
Completely.
To Be Continued...
