Chapter Sixty-One: The Fate of the Wretched

“Commander, this fellow is truly disgusting! Spitting and resorting to such vile, underhanded moves…” The Zhang Fei mask spoke with utter disdain. Had this been outside, she would have had him riddled with arrows long ago.

The Zhao Zilong mask did not respond immediately; instead, he watched the two fighters in the ring with keen interest. He had expected a one-sided massacre, but the match had taken an unexpected turn.

“In battle, all means are fair game. There is no such thing as ‘too dirty’—as long as the goal is achieved, it is a victory. This man is very clever…”

“Commander, how can you praise him after all that?” The Zhang Fei mask was clearly indignant, viewing the man as nothing more than a shameless scoundrel.

“From provoking with spit to making his formidable opponent hesitant, look at Night Rakshasa now. Every move she makes is fueled by rage, and she attacks with all her strength, but she’s lost her composure, her judgment of when to advance or retreat. As for the man, his every move may be base, but he targets positions she must defend or evade. Don’t forget, his aim isn’t victory—it’s to drain Night Rakshasa’s strength as much as possible.”

What perplexed her was that, just now, after that wrist clash, she was certain the man’s hand had suffered serious injury. Yet now, he showed no sign of pain—his arm swung freely, without the slightest hindrance.

As the two observed, Night Rakshasa’s attacks were fierce and relentless, every blow driven by anger, but always with caution. She feared that a single misstep would allow her opponent to grope her and gain an advantage; actions that could be dodged with a simple sidestep were instead exaggerated, always putting distance between them.

A flying roundhouse kick—

At that moment, Feng Jingzhe was forced to the edge of the iron cage, with nowhere left to retreat. He crossed his arms defensively.

Bang—

A tremendous force struck his arms, followed by a sharp crack of bone. Feng Jingzhe was sent flying, crashing several yards away. His right arm now bent inward at an unnatural angle.

No doubt about it—his hand was broken. But Night Rakshasa, having landed a hit, pressed her advantage.

A quick step and a downward leg strike—

Half-reclining on the ground, Feng Jingzhe saw her heel descending toward him. In shock, he rolled urgently to the right.

Bang—

The ironwood floor of the ring was smashed open, leaving a dark hole. Night Rakshasa poised to follow with a stabbing kick.

Just as the crowd thought the farce was about to end, Feng Jingzhe propped himself up with his left hand, lifting his body from the ground. Twisting his waist, he barely evaded the deadly blow.

At the same time, he managed to kick out, his foot landing precisely on Night Rakshasa’s thigh, using the impact to pull himself away. This was a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu escape technique, unknown in this world, giving him a slight advantage.

Feng Jingzhe regained his footing, casting a bitter smile toward the hourglass below the ring. His arm had been broken twice, and only half an hour had passed.

Suddenly, the atmosphere seemed to freeze. Sensing something, Feng Jingzhe looked up and saw a large, clear footprint imprinted on Night Rakshasa’s backside.

“You… deserve… to die…”

The final word still echoed as Night Rakshasa charged at Feng Jingzhe.

A straight punch—

The fist rushed toward him. Feng Jingzhe dared not take it head-on, trying to sidestep, but midway the punch transformed.

A cannon punch to the chest—

The oncoming fist abruptly shifted, blasting straight at his core. Now, evading wasn’t just a matter of sidestepping; he had to twist his waist and move his whole body.

But it all happened in a flash, and Feng Jingzhe couldn’t react in time. In desperation, he used the plowing hand technique to intercept the inner elbow.

Bang—

Against absolute strength, joint locks were a joke. Her fist struck like artillery, and with a dull thud, Feng Jingzhe felt a massive force pierce through his organs, sending him flying backward.

“Trying to escape? Get back here—”

Night Rakshasa grabbed Feng Jingzhe’s wrist, yanking his body back before he could fall.

A palm strike to the throat—

A pale hand sliced across like a sharp blade. Feng Jingzhe’s expression finally changed, and he could only resort to the Azure Dragon Claw move.

The claw nearly touched Night Rakshasa’s ample chest, making her so furious she nearly ground her teeth to dust. She had to withdraw and leap away.

Swish—

Fingertips brushed his throat, sending a chill down his spine. Feng Jingzhe instinctively touched the stinging spot—his nails had barely broken the skin, and a trickle of blood flowed down his neck to his chest.

“If your claws are so filthy, then I’ll break your limbs first—”

The wind howled again as Night Rakshasa’s midair kick crashed down like a giant axe.

Feng Jingzhe’s limp right hand hadn’t recovered, and his chest burned with pain.

Seeing her shin about to strike, he had no choice but to raise his arm and shield his head.

Bang—

This was a solid hit—before, he hadn’t been sent flying because she’d grabbed his wrist. Now, he was swept off his feet as intended.

His dizzy vision showed multiple Night Rakshasas advancing slowly from the front.

Feng Jingzhe gripped the iron cage and staggered to his feet, glancing at the hourglass below—it held only a few grains of sand.

Night Rakshasa was also slightly out of breath, having endured several rounds. Even though all her matches had been one-sided, the exertion couldn’t be avoided. Especially after facing Feng Jingzhe, she had used more energy than in all her previous bouts combined.

“Brother Diga… well done… keep going… try to last another round…”

“Fight… fight your sister… pay… pay more, damn it…”

Outside the cage, Mr. Fox cared little for money at this point. It had been less than half an hour, but the results were remarkable.

“More… I’ll pay more… last another quarter hour, and two thousand taels are yours, both hands included…”

Hearing him offer two thousand taels, Night Rakshasa grew even more resentful. She had fought over twenty matches since the selection three days ago, and even if she won today’s championship, her reward would only be sixteen hundred taels.

Why should this despicable wretch earn two thousand taels for a single fight? It was simply unfair!

“Damn it, I’ll give you your two thousand taels… I’ll give you your two thousand taels…”

Night Rakshasa raised her fists and pummeled him mercilessly. Feng Jingzhe, barely catching his breath, was knocked to the ground.

Truth be told, for someone who hadn’t even reached the Copper Skin stage, making it this far was a miracle.

Fists rained down like hail. The beating stirred a strange sense of familiarity in him.

Just then, the last grain of sand slipped through the hourglass below. Several times, he tried to raise his hand to surrender, only to have it pushed down.

Luckily, Night Rakshasa remembered she still had one more match. Though her blows fell fast and furious, she held back enough strength.

Now, she was simply venting her anger on what seemed a corpse. Feng Jingzhe appeared to be beaten mercilessly, but the worst blows had come earlier.

Of course, his acting was superb, and luck was on his side. In the end, before his screams betrayed him, rescue arrived from outside the cage…