The Luckiest Dumb Doctor-Chapter 577 03-25 - : Overpowering Counter-Kill_1
Chapter 577 -577: Overpowering Counter-Kill_1
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Whir!
A blood-colored new moon suddenly appeared and, without the slightest pause, slowly flew towards Lucas Moore.
Seeing this, everyone drew a sharp breath of cold air.
It was the same move, Splitting Mountain with Strength, but when Lucas Moore executed it, it was vastly different from that of an ordinary Martial Artist, and its power was beyond comparison.
And when Greg Jensen executed this move, it displayed a different kind of might.
...
If Lucas Moore’s Splitting Mountain with Strength felt incomparably sharp, then Greg Jensen’s move gave people the feeling of being heavy and strong.
Lucas Moore, directly facing its edge, felt as though there was a mountain above his head, slowly but firmly pressing down on him.
The feeling of insignificance when facing the vastness of mountains and earth made his legs tremble, almost compelling him to kneel in worship.
Even now, he couldn’t manage to dodge, and could only watch as the blade light fiercely slashed down.
Splat!
Lucas Moore’s body trembled, and a bloody slash mark appeared on him.
From the left shoulder to the right rib!
The blood that shot out, as if it were free, turned into a mist of blood and sprayed out into the sky.
A moment later, the body that had lost all signs of life fell to the ground with a thud.
The sound of that heavy object hitting the ground was like a drum struck in everyone’s hearts, making them all tremble.
At this moment, silence.
Trevor Brent suddenly stood up, looking incredulously at the blood-drenched figure that seemed like a demon.
He couldn’t believe that Lucas Moore, who had just had a complete advantage, was actually killed by Greg Jensen’s blade.
How on earth did that boy manage it?
Trevor Brent turned his head to look at Issac Grey, and though he didn’t say a word, Issac Grey understood his meaning.
Issac Grey’s brow furrowed deeply as he took out his phone and called Drake Stuart, asking, “What the hell is going on? Why is Barry Wolfe fine?”
The jeering of Drake Stuart came through the phone, “Brother Grey, neither you nor I are blind. We all know the state Barry Wolfe is in right now.
The curse has taken effect; if he can’t be beaten now, then it’s your own incompetence at fault.”
“You…”
Issac Grey felt a surge of anger in his heart, but he knew that what Drake Stuart said was correct—the state Barry Wolfe was in was indeed odd.
If they, as several families, still couldn’t beat him under these circumstances, then they would be utterly disgraced.
At this time, Drake Stuart scoffed coldly, “Brother Grey, do you need me to take personal action?”
“What do you want?”
It was the second time Issac Grey had asked a similar question; the first time, Drake Stuart merely hoped that the Stuart Family would re-enter the Union of Seven Provinces.
But this time…
“The fourth position in the Seven Provinces, for two cycles, the Stuart Family will not participate in the Seven Provinces martial contest.”
Drake Stuart laughed lightly, “Don’t be in a hurry to refuse. Think it over slowly; I will wait for your call.”
After saying that, he hung up the phone directly.
He turned around and glanced at his youngest sister who had exhausted all her strength, and said indifferently, “Ninth Sister, it seems like you didn’t give it your all, did you? Why is Barry Wolfe still hopping around then?”
Ninth Sister slowly raised her head, looking as if she had aged decades; her once delicate face was covered with wrinkles, and her bright eyes had become cloudy.
This was the price of witchcraft!
She opened her mouth, now missing a few teeth, and smiled, “If you are so eager for revenge, why don’t I bind your life to Barry Wolfe’s? If you commit suicide, he won’t be far from death either.
Would you be willing?”
Drake Stuart’s face changed, and with a cold snort, he turned and left the room. After giving a few instructions on the first floor, he slowly walked towards the arena.
He believed Issac Grey would certainly agree to his terms.
Of course, even if the other party didn’t agree, he would definitely attend.
He wanted to personally slaughter Barry Wolfe to avenge his father!
…
Above the arena.
Thump!
Greg Jensen fell to his knees once again, the previous strike had nearly depleted all the vigor and blood energy he could muster.
His body, now increasingly sluggish, felt as though it bore the weight of several hundred pounds, moving even a finger required an inordinate amount of strength.
Thankfully, the vigor and blood energy from the Innocent Knife Method allowed him to absorb a little, paltry though it was, it kept him from lapsing into unconsciousness.
“Greg…”
Louisa Burley covered her mouth, her beautiful eyes trembling, tears sliding down uncontrollably.
Thomas Lampe and the others clenched their fists, wishing they could leap onto the stage right then and replace Greg.
Struggling to lift his head, Greg squeezed out a wisp of a smile and shook his head at them, signaling not to worry.
Trey Holmes’s brows were deeply furrowed, and she pinched her delicate fingers until they turned white, but still, she found it difficult to make a decision.
Over at the Hall Family’s spectator area.
Seeing Greg dodge another disaster, Austin Hall slumped in his chair, gasping for breath.
In his decades of life, he had never encountered anything so thrilling; it was like riding a roller coaster, plunging into the valley one moment and being thrown skyward the next.
“Dad, can Barry Wolfe still continue?”
“Don’t know.”
The old man Hall’s eyes were filled with uncertainty. Looking at Greg on the stage, he shook his head and after a long while, he sighed deeply, “Let’s just watch. Now we can only leave it to fate.”
At that moment, the Hall Family referee, under Austin Hall’s signal, stood up and announced loudly, “This battle, Barry Wolfe wins! The next challenger, step forward!”
Dylan Wood’s mouth twitched slightly, and as he turned his head, he saw that Issac Grey was also looking his way, which only added to his mood.
“Are they seriously expecting me to step onto the field?”
With a gloomy face, Dylan Wood hesitated for a long while, looking back over his shoulder.
At that moment, a man of short stature but lean build stood out, his gaze deep as he addressed Dylan Wood, “Brother Wood, let me take this battle.”
“Trey Rogers, your wife’s about to give birth!”
Dylan Wood was taken aback and frowned, “You better not go.”
Trey Rogers’s eyes held firm determination, “If not me, who else will go?”
“But…”
“If it weren’t for you, I would have died thirteen years ago. What would I have today? An extra thirteen years is enough for me.”
With a laugh, Trey Rogers shook his head slightly, his chiseled face suddenly softened.
“It’s just a pity, I won’t get to see my child.”
“Trey!”
Trey Rogers lifted his head, staring deeply at Dylan Wood, “Big brother, I entrust you with the care of our family’s wives and children.”
Without waiting for a response, he drew his Butterfly Double Blades from his waist and strode toward the stage.
His buoyant steps, known to none, might as well have been those of a groom heading to meet his bride.
Dylan Wood’s eyes reddened. As the Family Head for so many years, his heart had become as steady as a rock, but in that moment, a crack formed in that rock, one that could not be repaired.
“Trey, I promise to take care of your wife and child!”
“Understood!”
The Butterfly Blades rose high, flicking a farewell to those behind him, the knife’s mirror-like surface reflecting blinding sunlight, painfully bright to the eyes.
Everyone’s gaze followed that figure, a somber mood quickly enveloping the Wood Family’s viewing area.
Everyone knew that given the strength Greg had just shown, Trey’s departure spelled almost certain death.
Dylan Wood called out to the figure’s retreating back, “Wish Master Trey a triumphant victory!”
“Wish Master Trey a triumphant victory!”
Trey Rogers proceeded forward at a steady pace, his aura intensifying with every step he took.
By the time he stepped onto the stage, his aura had reached its zenith.
The entire place fell silent.
All eyes were fixed upon Trey Rogers.
“Wing Chun, Trey Rogers.”
