Chapter 110: The Beginning of the Martial Arts Tournament

Inside the venue, atop the highest grandstand, the underground power brokers from the major cities of five provinces took their seats in orderly fashion.

“I never thought the head of the Amaterasu Society would come. Chairman Wang, aren’t you a woman sitting among all these men? Don’t you feel unsafe?” teased Liu Ke, his voice sharp as he spoke from his wheelchair.

“Liu Ke, I never imagined that in less than a year you'd have been crippled in both hands and feet. Truly surprising! Sister Hu, I think we should offer a reward to whoever took Liu Ke down!” Wang Lisha shot back, her retort hitting like a dagger to the heart. Liu Ke’s brows shot upward in anger as he rose, ready to teach this ugly woman a lesson.

At that moment, a young man in his twenties, the decision-maker of the Huang family from Hewan City, stood up and interrupted Liu Ke with a clear voice.

“Ahem… everyone, the purpose of the Five Provinces Martial Arts Tournament is to let each major faction settle disputes through strength. Liu Ke, Wang Lisha, if you want to settle this, by all means send your fighters to the arena. Arguing here is pointless. So, are either of you prepared to send someone up to fight?”

Liu Ke grinned widely and shot back at the young man.

“Young Master Huang, last tournament’s alliance leader was your father, not you. You have no right to give orders here.”

That remark landed sharply. The entire hall fell silent; no one dared to retort. After all, the Huang family of Hewan City had won the last martial arts tournament and, by tradition, should have hosted this event. But the family patriarch had recently passed away, leaving behind a widow and orphan. The young master Huang had hastily taken over, his authority still shaky, especially with the new tournament underway, placing him in an awkward position.

Most of the faction leaders present barely acknowledged him. Even Liu Ke’s direct insult was met with silence; no one came to his defense—powerless and isolated.

“Liu Ke, don’t push your luck too far…” Young Master Huang, though angry, was left standing alone.

“Master, please calm down.” An elderly man behind Huang gently placed his withered hands on his shoulders, shaking his head silently.

Heeding the elder’s advice, Huang composed himself and fell silent.

Meanwhile, a plump middle-aged man seated beside Liu Ke slowly stood and pointed at a dreadlocked man nearby.

“Rock, the gambling houses in Qianliang Town have been a battleground between our two families for over half a year now, with casualties on both sides. Why not settle it right here once and for all?”

The dreadlocked man stood without hesitation, shouting back.

“Heh, Fat Liu, seems like we’re on the same page. Today I’ve specially brought the disciple of the Great Sage’s Thunder Strike. Just wait to be crushed by me!”

“All right! I’m waiting!” Liu Ke replied.

The two men, long-standing rivals, showed no restraint on this stage, their hostility thick in the air.

Qianliang Town was a small settlement of just over ten square kilometers located at the junction of two national highways, straddling the borders of two cities. Serving as a vital transportation hub connecting the north and south of Su Province, thousands of vehicles stopped here annually for refueling and rest. The town boasted dozens of service stations, and with such a mix of travelers, bathhouses and underground gambling dens thrived.

Rock and Fat Liu each commanded factions from their respective cities, both eager to dominate this lucrative territory, intent on driving the other out.

Today’s tournament would decide who claimed Qianliang Town.

“Niukun, come out. Let them see the power of the Great Sage’s Thunder Strike!” Rock called out loudly.

A dark-skinned man in rough linen clothes stepped forward, crossing the arena with a single leap.

He had a shaved buzz cut, wore simple hemp clothing and straw sandals, his skin dark and shining. At first glance, he resembled an ordinary farmer, but his muscles were taut, his frame lean and athletic.

Fat Liu glanced at Niukun on the stage and laughed heartily.

“Rock, is this your champion? This fool must be some peasant you dragged out of the fields to fill a spot. If you really have no one else, just admit defeat! No shame in that!”

Laughing uproariously, Fat Liu lazily clapped his hands and declared proudly.

“Rock, watch closely. I spent half a million US dollars to bring in a black belt jujitsu master from Russia’s Roshia—Thors!”

“Just watch your peasant get torn to shreds by my Roshia bear!”

No sooner had Fat Liu finished than a broad-shouldered, sturdy blond man in a loose judo gi stepped onto the arena to face Niukun.

One looked like a simple farmer; the other, a powerful combatant speaking fluent Russian, a jujitsu black belt master.

Their stark contrast was undeniable. Thors towered over Niukun in both stature and strength.

Rock fixed his gaze on Thors, flicking his dreadlocks with a silent smile.

In the audience, Wang Kaishen, holding Yuan Linlin around the waist, pointed mockingly at Niukun.

“This is hilarious! I thought the special matches at Martial Arts Wind would be exciting, but even this ragged nobody gets to fight? Why doesn’t he just go tend the fields? What a joke!”

“Right? Kaishen, should we bet on the foreigner to win?” Yuan Linlin, full of admiration, nestled in Wang’s arms.

“Of course! Put it all on the Russian black belt jujitsu master. Chinese martial arts are nothing but nonsense. To me, foreign fighting styles are far more thrilling!”

Wang Kaishen was a born admirer of the West, convinced that true martial skill belonged to Western fighters. Chinese martial arts, to him, were the fantasies of wuxia novels, mere self-delusions.

Yuan Linlin, entranced by Wang’s confident and unpretentious demeanor, didn’t argue. Compared to timid Lin Feng, Wang seemed a real man.

Following Wang’s lead, she wagered all her funds on the Russian jujitsu expert.

Lin Feng remained silent nearby, merely glancing at the two fighters on the stage. His mind was already made up.

He took out his phone and placed a heavy bet of ten million on Niukun.

…

Soon, the referee entered the arena, and with a whistle, the first match of the martial arts tournament began.

“Kid, you’re unlucky to face me, Thors, today. Let me finish you in under a minute!” Thors roared in broken Chinese, launching forward with a powerful stride.

Like a charging grizzly, his massive body lunged for Niukun’s waist, arms reaching out to grab the slim opponent for a crushing throw.

Facing this armored beast barreling forward, a sharp gleam flashed in Niukun’s eyes. With a swift move, he slipped under Thors’ grasp, sliding beneath his crotch to evade capture.

Jujitsu was a grappling art focused on joint locks and leverage, requiring both strength and technique in close quarters.

Niukun saw through Thors’ plan instantly and cleverly avoided close combat.

Though Thors unleashed his full might to seize him, Niukun’s agile frame and nimble movements left no opening.

“Roar! Coward! If you’ve got guts, attack me!” Thors bellowed in frustration.

Niukun ignored the taunts, continuing to dodge and weave effortlessly.

“What kind of fight is this? It’s like kids squabbling! Does this peasant even have any fighting spirit? Come on, fight!” Wang Kaishen shouted impatiently, openly belittling Chinese martial arts.

Lin Feng focused on Niukun’s right hand, a faint smile curling his lips as he murmured calmly.

“After all this time, is he finally going to make his move?”