Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 154 Blizzard Eight Strikes, Silver Ape Strike Technique

As he slowly and methodically cut his bloody steak, a hushed conversation drifted from the next booth.

Xilun hadn't paid much attention at first, but the words "contestant" accurately caught his extraordinary auditory nerves.

"Hey bro, how's your 'Blizzard Eight Strikes' training going? Are you confident you can take down the champion's 60-pound weight in this unarmed combat tournament?"

The speaker was a young man with a slightly impetuous voice.

Xilun paused slightly as he cut the meat, his eyes subtly glancing at the person next door.

As expected, there were two contestants sitting there.

With his back to Xilun was the impetuous younger brother, while sitting opposite him was a very tall, mature-looking man with a thick beard.

The man was wearing a tight black vest, and his bare arms were covered with crisscrossing scars, his muscles bulging like rocks.

The taller, more mature man swallowed the food in his mouth and said in a deep voice, "Shut up. Although this is just an entry-level competition, the people sent by various clubs and secret forces are definitely hidden talents."

How dare I, your older brother, presumptuously claim we'll definitely win the championship?

The man's voice was calm and steady, and his breathing was long and even. With the help of the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique," Xilun could clearly sense that the blood and qi lurking in the other person's body were as deep and unfathomable as an abyss.

"He's definitely a tough one; he's spent at least three years in the baptism stage."

Xiren silently gave his assessment in his mind and quietly noted down the name "Blizzard Eight Strikes".

It sounds like this should be a heavy-duty fighting style that places great emphasis on continuous bursts and suppressive power.

The younger brother seemed somewhat dismissive of his older brother's caution, muttering, "I thought no one in this competition area could beat you. After all, you could even kill that mutated black bear with your bare hands."

His brother glared at him, his tone becoming sterner: "In battles between first-tier extraordinary individuals, life and death often hang in the balance. Greater strength doesn't guarantee victory. However—"

He changed the subject, a hint of arrogance flashing in his eyes: "I'm about 80% confident of getting a top-four spot. But if I encounter a monstrous genius above that, it's hard to say."

The younger brother immediately beamed with joy: "Top four is pretty good! That's a 10-pound prize!"

"Brother, you're the second-ranked player in our Hammer Club. You're sure to get a good ranking this time and show the old man what you're made of!"

Xilun silently ate a bite of mashed potatoes, thinking to himself that the competition was indeed of high quality and popular.

In the short time it takes to go out for a meal, I bumped into such a strong contestant.

It seems my previous judgment was correct; I must not be careless in the slightest.

After finishing his meal, Xilun went back to his room upstairs to rest for a while, allowing the food in his stomach to fully digest.

He then took off his coat, leaving him in only a thin shirt, and began warming up in the cramped room.

He first slowly practiced the "Dorok Dark Claw Technique".

The fingers of both hands were bent into an eerie arc, and as they moved through the air, the fingertips faintly made a whistling sound.

Immediately afterwards, he exerted force from his waist and hips, and his legs kicked out in succession like battle axes, which was the incomparably domineering "Berello Kick Technique".

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Each stretch of his muscles and each pop of his bones made the flow of Qi and blood in his body smoother.

As for the two "spiritual ropes" that he had finally managed to get started with, after careful consideration, Xiren decided to leave them in his suitcase at the hotel and never bring them into the competition.

Firstly, the rules of the competition clearly stipulate that it is "unarmed combat". If an item with obvious mystical characteristics is used in the ring, it is very likely that the referee will judge it as illegal use of equipment and disqualify the user directly.

Secondly, this is also one of his most closely guarded trump cards.

There is absolutely no need to expose one's involvement in mysticism under the watchful eyes of hundreds of people for a few dozen pounds of prize money, unless one faces a real life-or-death crisis.

This will only bring him unnecessary trouble, and could even be fatal.

After warming up, Xilun lay on his back on the slightly damp bed, staring blankly, trying to get his mental state back to its peak.

For the past period of time, he seemed to be in a state of high-speed spinning top.

To become stronger, and for revenge, he took the steam train several times, traversing different cities and dangerous forests.

This time, I was semi-forced by Lord Lund to participate in this unfamiliar arena. Lying on a simple wooden bed in a foreign land, I listened to the cold rain pattering against the windowpane, and the wind howling mournfully under the eaves. In the distance, the muffled rumble of trains could be heard from the train station.

A rare and profound sense of loneliness, of being a stranger in a foreign land, welled up in my mind without warning.

He thought of the drafty shack in the slums, his mother who had died tragically, and the aloof Duke Storm who had treated him like dirt.

He exhaled, regained his composure, sat up, took out the expensive deep-sea mineral ointment from his bag, and generously scooped out a large piece, applying it evenly to his limbs and chest.

The piercing heat instantly seeped into his muscles through his skin. He quickly sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and entered a deep breathing state once again.

The "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique" was running wildly, meticulously refining the medicinal power into pure energy, nourishing the "coiled dragon" pattern hidden beneath the skin.

Shortly after, Xilun opened his eyes, a terrifying glint flashing in them.

He got out of bed, dressed himself, picked up the bulletproof black umbrella, and went downstairs.

As he slowly walked to the entrance of the secondary hall of the venue, Xilun handed the invitation to the staff member in charge of registration.

After the other party verified that everything was correct, they handed him a black wooden plaque with numbers engraved on it.

"This is your player number, number 24."

You can go to the bulletin board in the middle of the corridor to check your first-round match number, the specific arena, and a brief introduction of your opponent.

Xilun nodded slightly, took the wooden sign, and followed the corridor to the notice board where the crowd had gathered.

On a huge corkboard, the match schedule for sixteen games was neatly pasted. Taking advantage of his height, Xilen peered over the heads of the people in front of him and peered over to search carefully.

Soon, he found the information about his match in the area of ​​the fifth arena.

[Fifth Match: #24, Xilun, 18 years old, Iron Cross Fighting Club.]

[Opponent: Number 9, Rejesty, 23 years old, affiliated with: Silver Hand Fighting Club.]

Xilun's gaze followed the names down, quickly gathering the publicly available information about the opponents provided by the tournament organizers.

However, the more he looked, the more surprised he became.

According to the information, this man named Reggie was baptized at the age of 21 and has been honing his skills in the realm of baptism for two whole years.

He specializes in a niche martial art called "Silver Ape Fighting Technique".

This fighting style demands exceptional flexibility and explosive power from the body. The punches and kicks mimic the fighting of wild apes in the jungle, exhibiting agility and versatility, and targeting the joints and vulnerable points of the human body.

Even more alarming, the last line of the information was highlighted in red: "This fighter won five consecutive matches in last year's underground boxing tournament."

"Silver Ape Fighting Technique—" Xilun withdrew his gaze, silently pondering these five words in his mind.

In the world of combat sports, being called an expert means that the opponent has mastered the martial art to a high level and has even developed their own fighting instincts.

"Damn it, what bad luck. I drew such a tough opponent in the first round." Xilun frowned slightly.

Just as he was secretly surprised and pondering a solution, a light laugh suddenly came from not far away.

"Senior! Did you see the bulletin board? Your luck is incredible this time! Your first-round opponent is a newly baptized weakling. It's practically a guaranteed pass to the second round!"

Xilun's heart skipped a beat, thinking to himself, "Could it be such a coincidence? Are they talking about me?"

He subtly turned his head and glanced over out of the corner of his eye.

The two people speaking were a young man and a young woman, who, judging from their clothes, were probably from a wealthy family.

They were excitedly chattering away to a man in front of them.

The man surrounded by them looked rather thin, and was even shorter than Xilun by more than half a head.

But he was wearing a tight white jacket, and his bare arms were unusually thick, with muscle lines like tangled steel cables, creating a very strong visual contrast with his thin body.

Xilun could tell at a glance that these were definitely physical characteristics left by years of practicing the "Silver Ape Fighting Technique," which imitates the climbing and tearing of animals.

The young man pointed at the bulletin board and laughed unrestrainedly: "Senior, look at your rival named Xilun."

He's only eighteen! And the records say he was baptized just a month ago!

His major is actually leg-based combat, which requires extremely high skill and stability. This guy's practically just here to give away points and experience life!

However, despite his companion's praise, Reggie, who was wearing a white jacket, did not show any smugness.

Instead, he frowned slightly, shook his head very seriously, and reprimanded in a deep voice, "Shut up. How many times have I taught you that you must never underestimate any enemy standing in the ring?"

Rejesty turned his head, staring intently at Xilun's name on the bulletin board. He took a deep breath and slowly said, "Anyone who can get an invitation to a tournament of this level can't possibly be a real weakling."

Although this person has only been baptized for a month, he may have already honed his foundation for a very long time in the previous stages. His physical strength may not be as weak as the information shows.

Hearing this, Xilun nodded inwardly.

This Rejesty is not only strong, but also clear-headed; he is definitely not the kind of fool who underestimates his opponent because of arrogance.

Such opponents are often the most difficult to deal with.

However, Lei Jiexi paused, his tone still revealing a hint of the confidence of a veteran powerhouse.

"That being said, he is probably no match for me."

After all, he had only been baptized for a month, and the accumulation and transformation of his strength was definitely his biggest weakness.

In such a short time, it's impossible for him to have mastered an extraordinary fighting technique to the point where he could threaten me.

After saying that, Lei Jiexi patted the two junior students on the shoulder: "Let's go to the preparation area. I need to warm up my joints beforehand."

As Xilun watched the three figures depart, he nodded slightly. Their analysis was quite reasonable, but this was precisely the biggest information gap that Xilun could take advantage of.

He withdrew his gaze and turned to walk towards his own fifth arena area.

The lighting inside the annex was rather dim, with only a few huge steam searchlights hanging in mid-air, casting blinding white light vertically onto the eight square arenas in the center.

Xiren arrived at the waiting area for the contestants below the fifth ring. By this time, a few spectators had already begun to take their seats in the stands.

Most of these people were well-dressed. Some were looking at the odds of the contestants in the newspaper while wearing monocles, some were smoking pungent cigars and chatting with others, and others were yawning listlessly. They obviously did not have high expectations for this preliminary stage of the competition.

Xilun found an empty bench, crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and began frantically analyzing his opponent's fighting style in his mind.

"Silver Ape Fighting Technique—agile, versatile, and specializing in joint attacks." Xiren mentally simulated the upcoming battle.

When facing an opponent with such high speed and unpredictable movements, if you blindly use the wide and sweeping "Berello Kick" to chase after them, it is easy for the opponent to seize the moment when you lose your balance and directly cut into the inner circle to lock your joints.

"We can't take the initiative." Xiren quickly set the tactical tone. "We must take advantage of his underestimation of my strength and use his tricks against me. We'll use the Dorok Dark Claw technique for defense and counter-attack, forcing him to confront me head-on."

As long as the opponent dares to engage in direct physical contact, Xilun is absolutely confident that, with the abnormal physical defense and recoil force of "Coiled Dragon," he can instantly cripple one of the opponent's arms.

Time ticked by in the oppressive wait.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

With three clear chimes of a bronze bell, the previously noisy venue instantly fell silent.

A host in a tuxedo strode onto the central, suspended platform, holding a megaphone, and announced loudly, "Ladies and gentlemen! The first round of the 4th Pioneer Cup Hand-to-Hand Combat Tournament is now officially open!"

A sparse burst of applause and whistles immediately erupted from the surrounding area.

"Please come to the stage immediately, contestants number 24, Xiren, and number 9, Rejesty, for the fifth match!"

Upon hearing his name, Xilun abruptly opened his eyes, the cold glint in them as sharp as a knife.

He stood up, took off his coat and threw it on the bench, wearing only a tight black short-sleeved shirt, and walked step by step up the wooden steps to the square arena, which was ten meters long and ten meters wide.

The moment the blinding spotlight shone on him, Xiren felt that for a fleeting instant, all eyes were on him.

But his heart, which had been through life-or-death struggles, beat unusually steadily, without the slightest fear.

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