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

Yanjing, atop the Forbidden City.

The wind felt like it was scraping my bones when it blew on my face.

Sixteen dragon-shaped stone pillars stand around the open-air martial arts arena, which is made of white marble, and the black banners with gold lettering of various families flutter in the wind.

The once-a-decade Dragon Ranking Competition was held without media coverage or broadcast. The people sitting around the stands were all powerful figures who controlled the economy and politics of the Dragon Kingdom.

It was exactly 9:00 AM.

Lin Yang walked into the passageway. He was wearing a pure black bespoke suit, his tie was undone, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone.

On the left, Liu Shanshan is wearing a blood-red, high-slit cheongsam, the hem of which sways.

On the right, Emily is wearing a black leather jacket and tactical pants, with her blonde hair tied in a high ponytail.

The group of one man and two women stood out among the martial artists dressed in training clothes and Taoist robes.

No one laughed. The news of the cracked concrete at the airport and Zhang Shitai vomiting blood in the restaurant had already spread throughout the industry.

In the southeast corner of the stands, in the area designated for the Huahai Hongmen, Fu Qingquan sat in a grand chair, facing the opposite dais.

The dais was set up high, and the heads of the ten prominent families of Yanjing lined up in a row.

Lin Tong sat in the representative's seat of the Lin family, holding a purple clay teapot in his hand.

"The draw for the matchups is now being announced," a referee in a gray Zhongshan suit announced loudly from the center of the ring.

In the first match, Lin Yang faced off against Zhao Hu from the Zhao family.

In the second match, Lin Yang faced off against Qian San from the Qian family.

In the third match, Lin Yang faced off against Sun Bulu from the Sun family.

……

The list scrolling on the big screen revealed one fact: this was a battle of attrition.

The aristocratic alliance didn't even bother to cover it up; the twelve people at the front of the line were all assassins raised by their respective families, and all of them were at the late stage of the Dark Force realm.

Discussing arose from the stands. This kind of lottery draw was unprecedented in the history of the Dragon List competition.

Emily's fingers flew across the screen, displaying code: "Boss, the backdoor in the lottery system has been modified. The algorithm has you stuck playing twelve matches in a row."

Liu Shanshan lowered her voice: "These old bastards have no shame. Should I send the Hongmen to block the sale?"

"No need." Lin Yang took off his suit jacket and tossed it to Liu Shanshan.

He loosened his collar, cracked his wrists, and his knuckles made a series of crisp sounds.

"They want to fill my life with human lives, then let them fill it." Lin Yang strode towards the arena. "I want to see how many coffins they have prepared."

"First match, begin!" The referee swung his hand and stepped back.

Zhao Hu was nearly two meters tall, with bulging muscles in his arms. He practiced external hard kung fu, and his Black Tiger Heart Strike aimed straight for Lin Yang's heart. The force of his punch created a whooshing sound, and his hidden strength was revealed.

Lin Yang stood still.

It lacked the neutralizing power of Tai Chi, and the fierce power of Bajiquan. He simply raised his right hand and slapped out with a backhand.

Without any special techniques, relying solely on the explosive physical strength generated by the limits of physical attributes.

"Snapped!"

A sharp, piercing sound.

Zhao Hu's massive body paused in mid-air for a moment before flying backward.

His right arm was broken off, with bone fragments piercing his skin. He was sent flying more than ten meters, crashing off the white marble arena and onto a stone pillar, where he immediately lost consciousness.

The audience was silent.

The wind stopped.

The referee swallowed hard, his gaze shifting between Lin Yang and the seemingly lifeless Zhao Hu, before finally announcing, "Lin Yang of Huahai wins. Second match, Qian San, come to the stage!"

Qian San was a thin man who practiced the Bagua Youlong Palm technique, and his movements were highly agile. He circled Lin Yang quickly, trying to find an opening.

"Too slow."

Lin Yang took a step, leaving a shallow dent in the non-slip white marble floor. He covered five meters in one stride, appearing in front of Qian San.

Another slap.

Qian San's protective inner force was forcefully dispersed, and he was sent flying off the stage in a spinning motion.

"The third match!"

"The fourth match!"

……

In less than ten minutes, eight masters of internal energy lay dead on the ground below the arena, their fates unknown.

There was no probing, no fighting.

Lin Yang didn't move much from beginning to end, and only used one move—a slap.

This is the most direct slap in the face to the martial arts world of Yanjing.

In the stands, some of the heads of prominent families fell silent, their fingers trembling as they held cigars.

The veins on the back of Lin Tong's hand, which was holding the purple clay teapot, bulged. Eight late-stage internal strength cultivators—that was half the foundation of the aristocratic alliance—didn't even give Lin Yang a moment's respite.

"Useless! All of you are useless!" Lin Tong cursed under his breath, turning around behind him. "Let Old Zhang go. The drug's effects should kick in."

"Match 9, Lin Yang vs. Zhang Shitai!"

The referee's voice was dry.

A figure walked out from the entrance of the passage.

Upon recognizing the person, Fu Qingquan stood up, knocking over the teacup beside him: "Zhang Shitai? His heart meridian was severed the day before yesterday, how could he still be on stage!"

Zhang Shitai, who stepped onto the ring, was no longer the same as he had been a few days ago.

His white hair had turned black, and his withered muscles showed signs of morbid swelling. His eyes were bloodshot, with no whites remaining.

His Taoist robe was torn, and bluish-purple veins were visible writhing beneath his skin.

Lin Yang looked up. A five-star crisis warning flashed red on his retina.

He had encountered this state of muscle mutation before.

In Hawaii, at the Red Stick Tournament, Li Yifeng, who had taken the Titan Elixir, looked just like this.

Zhang Shitai's state was different from that of ordinary people. The dark energy surrounding him was cold and sinister, and even emitted a putrid stench.

"An improved version of Titan's Elixir?" Lin Yang asked, turning to Lin Tong on the platform. "You even dared to touch the forbidden biochemical drugs on the dark web just to kill me."

Zhang Shitai did not reply, but let out a low growl.

He lunged at Lin Yang, his hands transforming into claws. The Yin energy of the Entangling Silk Technique turned into poisonous energy. A corrosive sound filled the air.

"Die!" Zhang Shitai rasped.

The representatives of the powerful families in the stands stared down below. This poison, if it came into contact with the skin, would surely kill.

Lin Yang did not take a single step back.

The Great Perfection of Qi circulates within the body.

But he didn't use it for defense.

Faced with Zhang Shitai's poisonous claws reaching for his chest, Lin Yang straightened his chest and met them head-on.

"You're asking for it!" Lin Tong gripped the armrest tightly on the platform.

Zhang Shitai's claws were gripping Lin Yang's chest.

"Sizzle—"

Lin Yang's suit shirt was torn in two places.

The poison surged in.

Zhang Shitai's expression froze.

The poison was blocked outside the skin.

Not even a red mark was left on Lin Yang's chest. Under extreme physical conditions, the density of muscle fibers was extremely high, preventing the poison from penetrating into the pores.

"Your medicine is expired, isn't it?"

Lin Yang looked down at Zhang Shitai.

"If you don't even care about the dignity of martial arts, what use are you?"

Lin Yang reached out with his left hand, grabbed Zhang Shitai by the neck, and lifted him up with one arm.

Zhang Shitai's feet left the ground as he struggled desperately, pounding on Lin Yang's arm with his hands. The poison sparked on Lin Yang's arm, but couldn't break through the skin.

Lin Yang clenched his right fist, gathering his perfect internal energy at the tip of his fist. It wasn't just pure physical force, but an explosive force that combined Tai Chi, Bajiquan, and Wing Chun into one.

A punch landed on Zhang Shitai's dantian.

"boom!"

The shockwave exploded in the center of the arena, forming a white shockwave that spread outwards.

The family banners that were closest to each other were torn to shreds by the shockwave.

Zhang Shitai's body emitted a series of cracking sounds as all his bones and muscles snapped. His morbidly swollen muscles shrank, and dark blood gushed from his seven orifices.

Lin Yang casually tossed Zhang Shitai off the stage.

The third-ranked member of the Dragon List, a renowned Tai Chi master from Yanjing, has become a cripple.

The entire room fell silent.

The wind is still blowing.

Everyone stared at the young man in the center of the ring, whose clothes were slightly torn.

He fought twelve consecutive battles without a scratch. He had just withstood the mutated poison with his bare body.

This goes beyond the scope of the Great Perfection of Dark Strength.

In the shadows at the highest point of the stands stood a middle-aged man in a gray long gown. The air around him rose and fell rhythmically with his breathing.

Xiao Yan ranks first on the Dragon List.

Xiao Yan frowned: "An impenetrable body? He's retraced the path Lin Beixuan cut off back then?"

On the arena.

Lin Yang stepped on the broken white marble slabs and turned to face the podium.

He raised his hand and pointed at the trembling Lin Tong.

"Playing such despicable tricks, the Lin family of Yanjing is truly a garbage dump."

The sound spread as it was propelled by the force of the breath.

Lin Yang kicked a half-broken stone pillar at the edge of the arena.

A hundred-pound stone pillar flew out, smashing the solid wood table in front of Lin Tong. The teapot, along with boiling water, splashed all over Lin Tong's face, scalding him so much that he fell backward, clutching his face and screaming in pain.

Lin Yang stood at the edge of the ring.

"Don't waste your time queuing!"

"Anyone else who wants to be a dog? Come at me!"

"or……"

Lin Yang turned his head and looked at the figure in old cloth shoes walking out of the passage.

"Ye Fan, come here!"