Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 161 Exploring Talent, Far Listening, Four Strong Opponents

Xilun exhaled a long breath and suddenly opened his eyes.

In the dark room, his eyes shone with an astonishing light, revealing an indomitable ruthlessness.

He suddenly sat up in bed, ripped off his shirt, revealing his upper body covered in strong muscles and fine scars.

Memories are poison for the weak; they only make people weaker.

He walked to the tin box in the corner and skillfully took out a ceramic jar.

He dug out a large lump of pungent deep-sea mineral ointment and applied it expressionlessly to his limbs and torso.

The moment the ointment touched the skin, a sharp pain, as if countless red-hot steel needles were piercing the pores, erupted.

Xilun gritted his teeth and didn't make a sound.

He sat cross-legged on the cold floor, forcibly suppressing all his chaotic thoughts, and began to circulate the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique".

His chest rose and fell like a giant bellows, accompanied by a peculiar breathing rhythm.

The blood and qi in the body, like a furnace that has been ignited, began to surge and roar wildly.

The potent medicinal power was mercilessly devoured and torn apart by his blood and qi, then gradually seeped into his flesh and bones.

Faint black scale patterns faintly appeared on his body surface. Then, the patterns twisted and intertwined as if they were alive, transforming into terrifying muscle lines that resembled coiled dragons.

The excruciating pain continued, but amidst this extreme physical torment, Xilun's heart gradually descended into absolute stillness and coldness.

Night, in this silent and cruel tempering, quietly slips away.

The morning mist, like a gray veil, enveloped the city.

Inside the hotel room, Xilun suddenly opened his eyes, a suppressed dark golden gleam flashing deep within his pupils.

He rolled out of bed, and on his bare chest, the faint black dragon patterns contracted slightly in the cold air, exuding a hard, iron-like texture.

My usual morning exercise.

Xilun opened the window, and the cold, damp air, mixed with the smell of horse manure and coal smoke from the street, rushed into his nostrils.

Instead of immediately starting to cultivate his qi and blood as usual, he stood quietly by the window, his mind replaying the scenes of the life-and-death battle of the past few days.

Combining fists and feet, claw techniques break through defenses, and leg techniques deliver powerful attacks.

.

His physical foundation is far superior to others of the same level, but I always feel that he is still lacking a bit of finesse in the connection of moves and the control of enemy aircraft.

Suddenly, a thought struck Xilun.

【Listen from afar】.

He had always used this extraordinary talent, which he had plundered from the fennec fox, only as a radar for early warning since he acquired it.

You can hear footsteps a hundred meters away and distinguish thunder in the clouds, but what if—this extremely keen sense of perception were compressed?

Xilun had some ideas.

He changed into loose training clothes, pushed open the door and went downstairs, heading straight for the slightly dilapidated little park behind the hotel.

In the early morning, only seven or eight homeless people and early-rising laborers were dozing on the benches in the park.

Xilun found a secluded spot under an oak tree, stood with his legs apart like the gnarled roots of an old tree, and slowly closed his eyes.

High level of concentration.

In an instant, the world around me exploded in my ears.

The rustling of clothes as a homeless man turns over fifty meters away, the crisp sound of a stray cat snapping a dry branch thirty meters away, the dull thud of dew dripping from leaves onto the soil ten meters away —

Countless tiny sounds, like tangled threads, flooded into my mind all at once.

Xilun's brow furrowed in pain, and his temples throbbed.

The amount of information is so vast that it can cause an ordinary person's brain to crash instantly.

He gritted his teeth, activated the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique," and used his vast and steady qi and blood to forcefully suppress the dizziness in his mind. Then he began to try to control this hearing.

pack.

Then conclude.

He was like an extremely meticulous craftsman, pulling back the vast, all-encompassing net bit by bit.

Fifty meters — Thirty meters — Ten meters —

As the range of perception shrinks, less and less noise floods the mind, but the remaining sounds become clearer and more three-dimensional than ever before.

In the end, Xilun suppressed all his mental energy within a three-meter radius centered on himself.

He slowly opened his eyes.

The world seems to be different now.

Within this three-meter radius, the movement of air becomes visible to the naked eye. He can clearly "hear" the faint sound of a withered yellow leaf swirling and drifting in mid-air, and can even perfectly sketch its tumbling posture in his mind through the cutting sound of the airflow.

Two meters behind me, in the bushes, a beetle was nibbling on the grass, the squeaking sound of its mouthparts rubbing together like thunder in my ears.

Within this three-meter radius, he seemed to transform into an omniscient and omnipotent god, possessing extremely outstanding absolute control.

A glint of fanaticism flashed in Xilun's eyes as he began to simulate real combat.

If someone suddenly breaks into this three-meter zone and launches an attack.

He closed his eyes and imagined Robert's bony claws tearing through the air from his left.

Under the microscopic perception of [Far Listening], before the opponent even makes a move, the contraction of the shoulder muscles, the rushing sound of blood and qi flowing into the meridians, and even the subtle movement of the hem of clothing rubbing against the air will reveal the opponent's intentions a fraction of a second in advance.

This is not just about hearing, but also about constant monitoring of the enemy's energy surge and changes in tactics!

"What terrifying talent development!"

Xilun muttered to himself, a fine layer of cold sweat already seeping from his forehead.

While this absolute perception is domineering, the consumption of mental energy it consumes is simply terrifying.

He felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his brain after less than five minutes.

Xilun didn't stop; he wiped away the cold sweat and continued trying to adapt to everything.

It is repeatedly activated, exhausting the spirit, then restored through guidance, and activated again.

This went on and on, and the whole morning passed.

With Robert dead, Silen received a bye in the morning's quarterfinals, giving him ample time to refine this brand-new trump card.

In the afternoon, a light drizzle began to fall.

Xilun finished his exploration, rubbed his throbbing temples, opened the black umbrella, and slowly walked towards the location of the Pioneer Cup venue.

The streets were muddy and treacherous. As I passed a few street corners, I could faintly hear the conversations of passersby, mostly about the noble young master who was "cruelly murdered" yesterday, and the despicable slum student.

Xilun remained expressionless, as if those vicious words were not directed at him at all.

When we arrived at the auxiliary hall of the venue, it was already bustling with noise. The stench of sweat, cheap tobacco, and frenzied shouts mingled together, creating a suffocating heatwave.

Xilun folded his umbrella, walked to the event bulletin board in the lobby, glanced at the match information, and his eyes flickered slightly.

There are two quarter-final matches this afternoon, both of which seem extremely worth watching.

One of them was a match featuring Marshall, the player from the Platinum Club, who was known as the "humanoid alien."

The other one is about a man named Philip.

According to the data, this Philip is very famous. Although it was his first time participating in the Pioneer Cup, he made it all the way to the quarterfinals with a crushing victory and is the strongest contender for the championship and runner-up in this tournament.

Xilun raised an eyebrow as he looked at the black-and-white bust printed on the form.

Very familiar with it.

Tall, fair-skinned, with a gentle smile.

This was the same person he had met by chance in the hotel restaurant, who was accompanied by his arrogant younger brother.

After a moment's thought, Siron didn't go to Marshall's ring, but instead turned and walked into the audience section of ring number two, deciding to watch Philip's match in person.

I had just found a shady spot at the back when I heard the heated discussions of the onlookers around me.

"Philip is a newcomer, right? He's only twenty-two, but I've heard he already has the skills of a seasoned baptist!"

A man wearing a baseball cap excitedly waved his betting slip, saying, "I think his skill level is no less than Marshall's."

A man with a thick beard next to him shook his head and scoffed.

"It's still not quite there."

Philip's opponent is a ruthless character who practices "Bear Fighting Technique." His physique is practically a humanoid anomaly, and his reputation for being invincible with one arm is no exaggeration.

"With Philip's small frame, three punches would shatter his bones."

Ignoring the clamor of these laymen, Xilun looked up at the ring.

The bronze bell rang.

A burly man, nearly two meters tall, with muscles bulging like rocks, flipped onto the stage. With each step he took, the wooden planks of the stage creaked under the weight of the weight.

Immediately afterwards, the rope on the other side was lifted.

It was Philip.

He was dressed in a clean white training uniform, with a fair complexion and a gentle, almost humble smile. He bowed slightly to the audience around him before looking at the burly man opposite him.

Xilun narrowed his eyes, a faint golden light flashing deep within his pupils, and stared intently.

"The match begins!" the referee shouted, quickly retreating.

boom!

Without any probing, the burly man, like an enraged bear, roared and pounced.

The thick arm tore through the air, creating a suffocating wind pressure, and slammed into Philip's face.

The two figures instantly engaged in close combat in the center of the arena.

The dull thuds of punches landing resounded throughout the arena, clearly indicating that they were fighting with real intensity from the very beginning.

However, just when the onlookers thought that Philip would be crushed by this ferocious attack, Xiren's eyes became extremely solemn.

After only four or five rounds of fighting, Xilun keenly noticed that the burly man's originally unstoppable offensive was beginning to stiffen slightly.

His movements became smaller, and each punch seemed to carry a heavy resistance.

Xilun circulates Qi and blood, enhancing vision to its fullest potential.

He saw it.

Philip's energy was surprisingly a faint icy blue!

As their bodies continued to collide, the icy blue energy, like a persistent ailment, spread along the strong man's fists, covering his bronze skin with a thin layer of frost.

"Attribute strength—" Xilun was secretly shocked.

This kind of blood and qi with extreme attributes can only be generated by cultivating certain extremely rare and dangerous guiding techniques.

Philip's moves were unremarkable, lacking the unpredictability of Reggie and the cunning of Chloe, but with each block and punch he threw, he continuously amplified that terrifying frost effect.

Suddenly, Philip's eyes sharpened on the stage, his gentle smile vanished, replaced by a cold, murderous aura.

He clenched his fists tightly, and his aura surged dramatically.

"Blizzard Eight Strikes - Frostbite!"

With a low shout, Philip's fists transformed into a flurry of afterimages, like a whirlwind mixed with hail, relentlessly pounding on the burly man's chest and arms.

Bang bang bang!

The icy blue blood energy erupted completely, and the burly man roared repeatedly, desperately trying to fight back, but the frost at his joints was already half an inch thick.

He was constantly suppressed by the punches, and his movements became increasingly sluggish, like a trapped beast stuck in an extremely cold icy plain.

After more than ten rounds, the strong man's counterattacks became increasingly weak, and even his fist began to tremble violently.

The time has come.

Philip suddenly took half a step back, took a deep breath, his chest bulged high, and then shouted loudly.

"Blizzard Eight Strikes - Avalanche Mountain!"

With a deafening roar, Philip's right fist, carrying an extremely dense icy blue aura, was unleashed with ferocity.

In that instant, the audience in the stands seemed to have a hallucination, as if they saw a majestic snow-capped mountain covered in snow collapsing down before their eyes like the sky and earth splitting apart.

Bang—Crack!

With a sickening cracking sound, the burly man, who was known as invincible with one arm, was knocked to the ground by this punch. His massive body slid several meters across the ring before coming to a stop by crashing into the ropes.

The burly man's face was covered with a layer of pale frost, and his blood seemed to have frozen at that moment. He curled up on the ground, shivering, extremely cold, and had completely lost the strength to stand up.

"The match is over! The winner is Philip!" the referee stammered as he announced the verdict.

There was a moment of silence, followed by a burst of cheers that seemed to lift the roof off.

Siren sat in the shadows and nodded slightly.

That's really impressive.

That kind of icy power is a natural nemesis to physical fighters.

Even one's proud "coiled dragon" body, if penetrated by that frost into the bone marrow, would likely cause stagnation of qi and blood circulation.

"If I were to face him head-on now, I probably wouldn't be a match for him."

Siren stood up, pulled down his hat brim, and walked out of the stadium with the frenzied crowd.

As he walked, he began to frantically simulate the scenario in his mind.

If you were to face Philip's relentless "Blizzard Eight Strikes" attack, how should you respond?

A direct confrontation is definitely not an option, as the frost will accumulate; should I create distance? My leg techniques aren't yet sufficient to exert pressure.

The only way to break the deadlock is to use the corrupting properties of Dorok's Dark Claw to forcefully tear through his frost defense and fight to the death!

As I was pondering this, I heard several onlookers behind me making no attempt to hide their mockery.

"Philip is truly amazing! He's a real genius fighter!"

"That's right, unlike that guy named Xilun who got a bye this morning."

A stray dog ​​from the slums, through underhanded tricks, killed his senior before the competition and managed to sneak into the semifinals.

This is a complete disgrace to the people of Victoria!

"Exactly, it's a disgrace that the Metropolitan Police Department didn't arrest him."

If he were to face Philippe in the semifinals, he'd definitely be beaten to his knees and beg for mercy!

Xilun did not pause in his steps, his face hidden in the shadows, as calm as a stagnant pool.

The barking of the weak doesn't even deserve his attention.

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