Wandering America: My kill threshold is far ahead

Can't grasp it?

If I couldn't handle it, I wouldn't have come. What are you trying to prove by playing the fool with me?

In short, let's see how things go.

Turning around, I stepped into the octagonal cage and easily did various warm-up exercises to get my body into the best condition.

Neck circles, shoulder stretches, and chest expansion exercises—it's just like an old man taking a morning stroll in the park.

"Wow, A Bao seems to be under no pressure."

Commentator Kevin smiled and looked at Quillin: "Dude, your worries just now seem a bit unnecessary."

"Let's hope so," Quilin replied with an awkward laugh. "Maybe he's still hiding some trump card; who knows?"

"Like transforming into the Dragon Warrior?"

"It could also be a summoning of the deceased Master Oogway..."

The two were exchanging a few words when suddenly the lights inside the venue went out.

An instrumental piece titled "Electric Romeo" resounded throughout the venue, its majestic and epic grandeur captivating the audience.

Rookie King Choi Dong-ho, clad in a white battle robe, made a grand entrance amidst his own background music and cheers.

Ma Jieke had to admit that the lighting and sound engineers definitely deserved a bonus; the atmosphere they created was exceptionally well done.

Even the placard girl, who had never appeared before, made her first appearance on stage; she was a stunningly beautiful Venezuelan woman.

She was dressed incredibly provocatively, in a pure beach bikini, the kind where you could only see her underwear by pulling down her buttocks.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

On the commentary stage, Kevin, as usual, shouted out his classic opening lines, which were like the opening poem in a crosstalk performance, serving to gather the listeners' attention.

"This is the Old Silver Club, and what's about to happen is the Ultimate Rookie King Challenge!"

"Fist to pound, clash of titans, this is a game for the brave."

"Tonight, the brave are crowned! Tonight, a legend is born!"

"The octagon's iron gates are about to close. There's no turning back; the only option is to fight!"

"The two warriors are itching for a fight; the time has come for their fists to speak!"

"Located on the left side of the image, wearing a red battle robe, is Kung Fu Panda from China!"

"With amazing perseverance, he eliminated both the dark dancer Cuca and the masked king Juan Lopez."

"Now, he's unstoppable; he's about to launch his final assault on the rookie championship!"

"Located on the right side of the screen, clad in a white battle robe, is Choi Dong-ho, the South Korean tiger from Korea!"

"The cheers and screams from the audience have already given us the answer. No amount of praise can express how I feel right now."

"Now, he has returned, reigning supreme for life. Will he defend his title of glory, or fall on the battlefield? The answer will be revealed soon!"

Unlike previous competitions, this time in addition to the commentary booth, a female host was also provided.

After the commentators finished introducing the players, the microphone was immediately handed to Ma Jieke's mouth, a typical pre-match trash talk phase.

"King?" Ma Jieke smiled contemptuously in perfect unison: "What king? Is it someone whose surname is Wang and whose given name is Wang? I don't care if you're some East Asian Chow Chow or a South Korean sick cat. In my eyes, you're just a stray dog ​​on the roadside on my path to godhood. Dealing with this kind of bastard is as simple as kicking him to death."

"Hey kid, what did you just say? ***** Shit!"

Just as the host was about to respond, Choi Dong-ho suddenly charged over aggressively.

Luckily, the referee intervened, otherwise they would have had to be stuffed up.

There's no way around it; the cultural foundation is too deep, the history books are too thick, and the insults, no matter how they're reversed, are still basically just "shiba" and "dog's offspring."

Compared to "Xiba," "dog's offspring" is clearly more insulting.

Seeing his exasperated look, Ma Jie couldn't hold back anymore. "I was just trying to make the show interesting, why are you getting so worked up?"

Seeing this, Quillin Nelson stepped in to put pressure on the fighters: "I'm reminding the fighters in the ring not to do anything unsportsmanlike. Once you're in the ring, let your fists do the talking. What kind of skill is it to threaten your opponent? The match hasn't even started yet, do you want to turn it into a brawl?"

"You just wait, today I'll make sure you lie on the ground and never stand up again!"

Dragged to the edge of the cage while cursing, Choi Dong-ho, who had been instructed by his manager to go easy on him, decided to give it his all.

Sava sat on the bench, his mind filled with chatter. "Why did you have to spout such trash talk when you had nothing better to do? Now look what you've done, all that work for nothing."

The bell rang, and the competition officially began.

Just as Ma Jieke had predicted, Cui Donghao charged in almost at the last minute, starting with a simple and brutal side kick.

Taekwondo primarily uses leg techniques, with punches as a secondary technique; about 70% of its moves are kicks.

Of all kicks, the side kick is the most explosive and destructive. If it hits a vital area such as the chest, abdomen, or head, it's almost like being hit by a car; broken bones and torn tendons are inevitable.

Because he had anticipated the attack, the kick didn't hit Ma Jieke's body; instead, he dodged it by taking a step back.

After the initial exchange, he naturally didn't let him off the hook and immediately followed up with a left front kick from the Ma family, which landed hard on his lower abdomen.

The saying goes, "Great strength is never a disadvantage." Although I haven't had formal combat training, my basic strength is still there.

As a result, Cui Donghao, who was kicked, only took half a step back before regaining his balance. Ma Jieke could also clearly feel that his abdominal muscles were as hard as steel, indicating that he had maxed out his physical resistance.

After a half-second delay, Cui Donghao roared and charged forward again, his leg techniques flowing seamlessly as he unleashed a flurry of blows on Ma Jieke.

The finishing whirlwind kick was even more ferocious, slamming into the arm that was forming an X-shape to protect the eyes.

Bang! Ma Jie stumbled and his back hit the iron cage. The instant he raised his head, he immediately activated his skill, the timing was perfect.

【Fake Fighter (Active)】: When activated, randomly acquire all the abilities of a legendary fighter for 10 minutes. Cooldown period is 3 days.

The AR virtual panel shows the cursor moving back and forth among dozens of avatars before finally settling on an Asian person.

He has a square face, thick eyebrows, slightly curly hair, strong features, and sharp eyes. He wears his signature yellow jumpsuit.

He performed a set of nunchaku moves in front of the camera, ending with his signature high side kick, with a lifelike five-clawed golden dragon appearing behind him.

Bruce Lee's peak combat power has been obtained, countdown 9:59-9:58...

"Hiss!" After loading the legendary fighter template, Ma Jieke subconsciously inhaled the cool air into his lungs.

Then he rubbed his nose with his thumb, a defiant smile playing on his lips.

Have you had enough fun? It's my turn to play!

Just as Cui Donghao was preparing to force Ma Jieke to the edge of the board and use his high attack speed to suppress him.

The latter used a side-sliding butterfly step to instantly move in front of the opponent, and then delivered a side kick, which was just as popular.

You think you're fast? I'm even faster than you!

By using the waist to sequentially drive the thigh and calf muscles, all the power is ultimately transferred to the ankle for a single-point burst.

Reports indicate that Bruce Lee's side kick at his peak could generate an impact force of 1350 pounds, or 612 kilograms.

It takes only 0.2 seconds from start to hit the target, making it the Lamborghini of the fighting world.

What does this mean? Without considering the cost, you could kick a brick to pieces.

Note that it is a brick, not the thin wooden board used in a certain martial arts style.

In a horizontal comparison, the punching power of boxing champion Mike Tyson at his peak was approximately between 500 and 800 kilograms.

In other words, once you get hit, even a celestial being couldn't save you.