Chapter 57: Two Days Until the Promotion Tournament

Cheng Feng knew that he would often be venturing into danger in the future, and it was far too risky for his younger sister to remain by his side. To avoid repeating past mistakes and prevent another kidnapping, he discussed it with her and they ultimately decided she would live in the middle school dormitory and become a boarding student from now on.

With his sister no longer at home, life became much quieter—only Snowball the catgirl remained as his companion.

Cheng Feng didn’t go to school today either. Having been absent for so long, his teacher called the house again in the morning. Cheng Feng ignored the call, too lazy to bother with it.

After all, he was now a demon hunter protecting the city—who would still want to go to school?

These past few days, Xia Qingyao had been sending him messages on social media every so often, asking why Cheng Feng hadn’t come to class. Even when he didn’t reply, she wasn’t angry or discouraged, but persistently sent him the day’s teaching materials and class notes, hoping that, if he had time, he could review them so his grades wouldn’t fall too far behind for the college entrance exam and ruin his chances of getting into a good university.

Xia Qingyao was so diligent and caring that she practically embodied the role of an older-sisterly guardian. Cheng Feng couldn’t help but suspect she might secretly have a crush on him—otherwise, she was almost too responsible.

Cheng Feng still couldn’t be bothered to respond. Objectively, the class monitor meant well, looking after her classmates, but to Cheng Feng, she was just meddling in things that didn’t concern her.

With Snowball at home, Cheng Feng assigned her to clean the house, and if she wanted to look for that person, he let her go.

Cheng Feng rode his motorcycle to the Light-Speed Sword Dojo for training. It was the perfect opportunity to test his two new abilities on Yan Ruoying.

Half an hour later, at the Light-Speed Sword Dojo training hall—

Cheng Feng wielded a wooden sword, sparring with Yan Ruoying. The wooden blade flashed at high speed—his strength had grown considerably since before, enough to make Yan Ruoying take him seriously.

“Not bad. You’ve improved quite a bit in just a few days,” Yan Ruoying said, parrying his attacks. Then her tone shifted, pouring cold water on his enthusiasm: “But with just this level, you’re still far from winning the championship in the advancement tournament.”

There were only two days left before the tournament began. Cheng Feng had come to the dojo to squeeze every last drop out of the remaining time, trying his best to hone his skills to their peak.

He had lost two days dealing with Lin Xiaoqin, then ran into ghouls, then the battle at the monster auction… All in all, he’d wasted a lot of time without realizing it, and now the tournament was almost upon him.

To survive and thrive in the Disaster Association, he wanted to win the championship. First, to earn the elite member’s badge and leap from intern to elite demon hunter; second, for the 200,000 yuan prize; and third, for the chance to meet the enigmatic president known as “the Riddler.”

Hearing Yan Ruoying’s words and knowing she was underestimating him, Cheng Feng wasn’t discouraged. Instead, he replied coolly, “Is that so? Don’t be too surprised by what happens next.”

In the next instant, a faint electric glow sparked beneath Cheng Feng’s feet—the Thunder Shadow Step activated, launching his movement speed to its limit, swift as a bolt of lightning.

“What?!” Yan Ruoying’s vision blurred for a split second. Years of battlefield experience made her instinctively shift aside and raise her wooden sword to block—just in time to intercept Cheng Feng’s strike from the flank.

Sliding her foot to increase the distance, she eyed him warily. “That speed—how did you do it?”

“Through my own hard work, of course.” Seeing her suffer a minor setback, Cheng Feng grinned as he lowered his sword. “Sensei, you can’t keep up with me. Looks like you might not be able to beat me anymore.”

“Hmph. A man boasting about his speed means nothing. You only got lucky with one move—don’t get arrogant.” Yan Ruoying flashed a bold, spirited smile. “I haven’t shown my true skills yet. Have you forgotten the codename the government gave me?”

Yan Ruoying’s sword style was called Light-Speed Sword, and its true limits were far greater. As the fastest demon hunter in the entire Disaster Association, her real speed had reached the speed of light. The government’s codename for her—Light Beam Sword—was a testament to her true power.

“Then let’s try this.” Cheng Feng stepped forward, using Thunder Shadow Step to appear behind Yan Ruoying and slash horizontally with his wooden sword—only to hit nothing but air, her figure already vanished.

A wooden sword appeared instantly behind Cheng Feng, its tip pressing against his neck.

Now it was Cheng Feng’s turn to be astonished. Yan Ruoying’s speed was indeed faster than his—he hadn’t even seen her move.

No wonder she was known as the fastest demon hunter in the Disaster Association, and it was no boast.

Yan Ruoying withdrew her sword and said with a faint smile, “So, you still have a lot to learn.”

“My speed might not match yours, but…” Cheng Feng wasn’t discouraged. He stepped back to a certain distance, gripped his wooden sword with both hands, and said, “I have one more new move—let’s see if you can handle it.”

He drew the wooden sword to his waist, adopting an iai stance. His body lowered, and in that instant, his presence soared, as if man and sword had become one.

A layer of crackling electricity enveloped the blade, like a beast coiled and ready to strike.

“This move… looks interesting.”

A hint of seriousness appeared between Yan Ruoying’s brows. She raised her sword, eyes focused, ready to respond.

Cheng Feng shot forward like a streak of lightning, unleashing a thunderous draw-cut.

Lightning flashed!

Yan Ruoying’s gaze sharpened as she swung to parry.

“Bang!”

The two wooden swords collided with a resounding crack. Yan Ruoying’s blade shattered, splinters flying.

Cracks laced Cheng Feng’s wooden sword, but it didn’t break. He sheathed it and said, “Looks like you’ve lost.”

Yan Ruoying stared at her broken sword, dumbfounded. She’d infused some spiritual power into it, but hadn’t expected that thunderous strike to break it completely. The power of Cheng Feng’s move had clearly surpassed her expectations.

“Well, you win this round.” Yan Ruoying wasn’t one to deny defeat. She laughed heartily. “I don’t know when you picked up that technique, but I can say that, at your current level, you may have reached the threshold of elite rank.”

“Is that so?” Cheng Feng felt quite pleased at this assessment.

At that moment, Liu Shiyu entered the training hall, holding a stack of papers. She walked over to them. “Cheng Feng, Sensei, how’s training going?”

Yan Ruoying pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and took a drag. “Not bad. This kid’s talent is undeniable. His sword skills are, if not masterful, certainly at a high level—and every time he comes, he makes remarkable progress.”

Cheng Feng waved his hand. “It’s all thanks to your teaching.”

Liu Shiyu smiled at their mutual flattery and said nothing.

She handed Cheng Feng the papers. “Cheng Feng, here’s the registration form for the advancement tournament. Take a look—competition is the day after tomorrow at the Winter City Sports Center.”