I agreed to be a kept man, but I'm still being punished by the system.

The bushes whipped wildly at Lin Yang's face, the sharp leaves slicing across his skin and leaving stinging marks.

Behind him, the sound was like a small armored vehicle crushing through the jungle. The black bull's heavy footsteps were merciless, each muffled thud like a heavy hammer hitting his nerves.

You can't shake them off.

This guy is a monster.

A head-on collision would be suicide; that block just now had sent waves of excruciating pain through his entire arm.

"System!" he roared from the depths of his consciousness.

[Host, how can I help you?]

The familiar, cold mechanical sound now seemed like the most comforting sound in the world.

"Points! How many points do I have left?"

[Soft Rice Points: 10100]

"Give me a fighting skill! The kind I can use right now!"

Lin Yang cursed inwardly again, this time feeling sorry for his once again depleted "soft rice points".

This exchange of thoughts took less than a second, but that momentary lapse in concentration gave the pursuers an excellent opportunity.

His focus faltered.

He stumbled slightly.

A shadow fell over him, and a gust of wind mixed with the raw smell of sweat rushed toward his back.

Lin Yang quickly clenched his back muscles, which he had developed during his four years of training in the university gym.

"Bang!"

The impact was enormous.

His body was like a puppet with its strings cut, blasted away uncontrollably.

It crashed through the last layer of bushes and flew out of the darkness of the green belt.

There was something ahead of his flight path.

He crashed into it.

It's not a wall.

It was soft and elastic, and it let out a short, terrified scream.

The world is spinning.

He landed heavily, the impact making his jaw chatter, with a soft body pressing down beneath him.

He blinked, and his vision cleared again.

It was a person, dressed entirely in black, with a black hoodie pulled down low and a black mask covering most of his face.

All that remained around him was his own heavy breathing and the faint, frantic gasps of the person beneath him.

He heard the rustling sound of bushes being parted behind him.

The one beneath me is definitely a woman; there's no doubt about that scream.

"Hey lady, it's so late at night, who's going to be able to see you dressed like that?" he muttered instinctively, his voice hoarse.

The sound of heavy boots stepping on the stone pavement answered him.

Black Bull stood at the edge of the green belt, his massive body casting a beast-like silhouette in the dim light.

His chest heaved violently, but his eyes were fixed on Lin Yang, burning with the ecstatic joy of a predator.

"Kid, where do you think you're going?"

Lin Yang rolled his eyes inwardly.

Were all these villains taught in the same training course? They all sound so outdated.

He propped himself up, ignoring the burning sensation on his back.

He could feel that new, subtle energy flowing through his body.

That one percent.

It's not some earth-shattering qualitative change, but rather a kind of fundamental strengthening.

His muscles felt firmer, and although his breathing was still rapid, it calmed down much faster than expected.

He remained silent.

He turned around and charged straight at the black bull.

They didn't run away again, nor did they try any more tricks.

The battle erupted on this narrow path.

Pure, savage, ugly.

The fist collided with flesh, producing a dull thud that made your teeth ache.

Black Bull swung his arms like iron rods, each strike aimed at crushing bones.

Lin Yang, with his slightly faster speed and agility, constantly dodged and moved around, letting the most deadly punches whiz past him.

He couldn't possibly avoid them all.

A heavy punch landed on his cheek, his head snapped back, his jaw groaned in pain, and his mouth tasted of rust.

He immediately retaliated, delivering a powerful straight punch to Black Bull's ribs. The burly man grunted, but his offensive continued unabated.

They are exchanging injuries; it's a bloody gamble of pain and endurance.

A punch landed on his temple, and Lin Yang saw stars before his eyes.

A jab struck his abdomen, and Black Bull's breathing suddenly stopped.

An elbow strike.

A knee strike.

The girl in black who had been lying on the ground struggled to sit up.

She stopped screaming and didn't try to run away.

She curled up with her legs tucked in, her back against a low stone step.

In the dim light, the eyes above the mask were wide open, showing no fear whatsoever.

Her eyes reflected the violent struggle between the two men, and deep within her pupils, a strange, fanatical light was shining.

She watched every punch, every dodge, every painful groan—not out of fear, but out of intense focus, even a somewhat ominous excitement.

The battle reached its climax, and both men were panting heavily, like broken bellows.

Suddenly, the black bull stopped.

He took a few heavy steps back, creating some distance between himself and the enemy.

A hint of confusion appeared on his bluish-purple face.

He stared intently at Lin Yang, then looked down at his own body.

He tried to raise his left arm.

That arm hung limply at her side, completely unresponsive.

A slight tremor came from his biceps, but the limb was already like dead flesh.

Lin Yang also stopped in place, his chest heaving violently.

Every inch of his body was screaming in pain. His face was swollen, and his eye was cut and bleeding. He had taken three heavy punches from Black Bull.

But he was still standing.

That one percent boost gave him a comprehensive improvement in physical fitness, numbed his pain, and prevented his muscles from collapsing.

A chilling realization dawned on Black Bull's eyes.

He remembered the first punch.

The first punch Lin Yang threw.

It was fast, but the force was nowhere near as great as it is now.

That was a test.

It was bait. This kid had been scheming against him from the very beginning, dragging him into a war of attrition, trading blows to see who would collapse first.

As it turned out, he wasn't the one who broke down first.

If this continues, we might really die here today.

Just as that thought froze, two figures appeared at the end of the trail, rushing towards them.

"Sixth Brother! Found it!"

It's yellow hair and hemp stalks.

They stopped abruptly, their excited shouts stuck in their throats, staring blankly at the scene before them.

The air was filled with the mixed smell of sweat and blood.

The invincible Iron Fist Black Bull in their eyes was panting heavily, with one arm hanging limply at his sides.

Opposite him, Lin Yang stood tall, his face slightly swollen, but his eyes were clear and cold.

Behind him, in the shadows of the path, sat a woman wearing a black hoodie and a black mask, watching everything.