Martial Arts Secret Realm: Only I Can Know the Plot?

They naturally assumed that Mu Bing wanted to take the credit.

Even Du Ming was somewhat impressed by Mu Bing's actions.

It's true that he and Hong Jiu, two against one, have a huge advantage.

However, neither of them had learned any techniques for combined attacks, nor had they ever coordinated their attacks. They could only rely on their martial arts instincts to fight randomly.

Secondly, each had their own ulterior motives, wanting the other to exhaust themselves while conserving their own energy.

Since that's the case, it would be better to stay off the field and not expend any energy at all.

Anyway, two against one is a win, and three against one is also a win.

Red Wolf had obviously thought of this as well. The Boiling Blood Technique doesn't boil brains, and he wasn't born mentally challenged.

Therefore, the two looked at Xiang Mubing with more suspicion.

But now they had no choice but to go.

As they approached the stage, Red Wolf suddenly spoke:

"Let's work together first, and if it's your turn to face off later, I'll let you go first, how about that?"

Du Ming paused, surprised that Red Wolf would say such a thing.

However, this was clearly beneficial to him, so he agreed: "Okay."

Red Wolf understood perfectly well; he knew that Du Ming was very wary of him.

Rather than letting the other party hold back in a collaboration, it's better to proactively offer a condition that will get them to go all out.

This also reflects that the pressure Sun Fan is putting on him right now far exceeds that on others.

Just as the two were about to leave, Sun Fan called out to them, "Come back, where are you going?"

Hong and Du looked at Sun Fan with some doubt.

Shouldn't martial arts competitions take place in martial arts arenas?

Sun Fan pointed to the podium: "Let's compete right here."

A podium? Are you kidding me?

This space is too small to accommodate three people; they simply can't move around freely.

Moreover, at the Dark Martial Arts School, any desks, chairs, or benches that are damaged must be compensated.

expensive.

They don't want to waste money for no reason.

He seemed to have noticed the concerns between the two.

Sun Fan said, "Don't worry, if you break any tables or chairs, it's on me."

"At this stage, it's a battle of minuscule skill."

As he spoke, Sun Fan picked up a broom with a metal handle.

He gestured a bit, seemingly not quite satisfied.

With a forceful shake, the broom head fell to the ground.

I tried again, and I was satisfied.

Red Wolf and Du Ming were still somewhat confused, but Sun Fan waved the broomstick at them.

"bring it on"

Hey!

Red Wolf immediately felt a surge of boiling blood rushing to his head, and Iron Fist Du Ming beside him also visibly blushed.

They had never been so humiliated.

You think you can fight them with just a broomstick? What do you take them for?

Father, like son.

They were blinded by anger and didn't realize that the moment Sun Fan picked up the broom handle, his entire demeanor changed.

Mu Bing was the first to notice something was wrong. Without anyone noticing, she quietly approached Scarface and asked, "Scarface, what exactly was your roommate's adventure in the secret realm?"

"Could it be staff fighting? I love men who are good with staffs."

Scarface shook his head; it was also the first time he had ever seen Sun Fan use a weapon.

But he was certain that although the thing he was holding looked more like a stick, he was definitely not using stick techniques.

He never liked to talk about things he didn't know, and besides, he wasn't a talkative person to begin with.

Those around them also sensed that something was wrong.

Even though he was holding an iron bar, Sun Fan's entire aura had changed.

Like a sharp sword drawn from its sheath!

Everyone instinctively stepped back.

Two people, however, could not retreat.

Iron Fist Du Ming, Red Wolf Hong Jiu.

The two noticed something was wrong and exchanged a glance.

There was no other way; they were now in a bind, so the two gritted their teeth.

Then they moved.

Red Wolf's figure transformed into a crimson shadow, cutting in from the left. His skin flushed an abnormal red, like a piece of red-hot iron, a sign that he had already activated his Blood Frenzy mode.

Du Ming took the middle route.

His fists were held protectively in front of his chest, his steps heavy and steady, each step causing the floor to tremble slightly. His fists gleamed with a faint metallic sheen, these were iron fists imbued with a trace of the Third Realm's Strong Bone qualities.

One left and one right.

One fast, one slow.

One attack, one defense.

Someone in the audience gasped.

Such a combination, even without having practiced combined attack techniques, is enough to give any martial artist in the Body Tempering Realm a headache, simply by relying on their martial arts instincts.

Sun Fan did not move.

He stood there, his right hand gripping the iron pole he had taken from the broom, the pole pointing diagonally towards the ground.

His eyes were not on Red Wolf, nor on Du Ming.

He was looking at the empty space between the two of them.

The red wolf was closer.

He was incredibly fast, so fast that to an ordinary person his figure was already a blur, so fast that his fist, brimming with boiling blood, was about to strike Sun Fan's temple.

If that punch lands, Sun Fan's head will explode like a watermelon.

Du Ming has three more steps.

But his punches had already blocked Sun Fan's escape route. No matter whether Sun Fan dodged to the left or to the right, he would be met with those iron fists that could pierce through wooden boards.

There is no escape route.

Mu Bing, sitting in the audience, was also watching intently.

The scarred man's knuckles were white as he gripped the wooden stick.

Then they saw Sun Fan move.

It's not to the left.

It's not to the right.

It's forward.

The iron pole pointing diagonally to the ground suddenly lifted up.

There were no signs whatsoever.

There was no power buildup.

It was as if that pole was meant to be there, as if the red wolf had rammed into it on its own throat.

The tip of the pole struck the red wolf in the throat.

Red Wolf's fist was three inches away from Sun Fan's temple.

Three inches.

That three-inch distance was one he could no longer overcome.

The color drained from his body in an instant, his bloodshot eyes widened, and he made a "hoarse" sound from his throat, like a rooster whose throat had been cut.

Then he fell straight down.

Du Ming's fist arrived.

A glint of wild joy flashed in his eyes—Sun Fan's stick was still on the red wolf's throat, and he had no time to retract it or change his move.

With this punch, he intended to shatter Sun Fan's chest.

Then he saw Sun Fan flip his wrist.

The pole seemed to come alive, springing off the red wolf's throat and drawing an arc in the air.

That curve is beautiful.

It was so beautiful, like a flower blooming in the air.

Du Ming did not see the flower.

He only saw the end of the pole lightly touch his fist.

Just a little bit.

His fist suddenly lost all its strength.

The force that traveled from the soles of the feet to the waist and hips, from the waist and hips to the shoulders, and then from the shoulders to the fists, vanished without a trace in an instant.

It's like a balloon that's been inflated to its fullest extent, and then someone pricks it with a needle.

Du Ming's fist froze in mid-air.

He looked down at his fist.

There were no wounds, no bloodstains, and not even any traces left on the fist.

But his fist is no longer a fist.

That hand hung limply, like a snake whose bones had been removed.

Du Ming raised his head and looked at Sun Fan.

Sun Fan was also looking at him.