Sun Mengmeng frowned.
"Are you finished? If so, fight me! Our captain has commanded us to be as low-profile as possible, so I hope you'll cooperate and make some splashy moves. Don't worry, my archery's extremely precise, and I'll make sure you'll slump over without even realizing it," Sun Mengmeng promised, glancing at her opponent as though he were a clown.
"You—I see that Team Zenith's as arrogant as expected! Why, I—" Genetic energy circulated through Farrell's body, but he was interrupted by an even more terrifying burst of genetic energy. A ball of purple flame flew toward him, and that was the last thing he saw.
With a gigantic explosion, Farrell fell to the ground like an ancient tree that had just been struck by lightning.
"Thank you for your cooperation. I told you you'd keel over without feeling anything, didn't I? Have a good rest!"
The spectators watching the match were deadly silent. Without feeling anything? Farrell's nerves had all been burned away—there wasn't anything that he could feel!
Almost none of the spectators had expected that Farrell would lose so quickly; after all, he was the strongest of England's three wastrels, and one of the top contenders for the championship of the Void Cup. However, Sun Mengmeng had defeated him with what seemed like nothing more than a casual blow!
The match finished so quickly that much of the crowd was still stupefied, and Sun Mengmeng lost all hope of this being a low-profile match. Well, she didn't think she was to blame—Farrell was simply so annoying that she had used a bit more force than she had intended to.
Without glancing back at him, she left the stage the moment her victory was announced.
Unlike Fred, Farrell didn't doubt Sun Mengmeng's strength, because he had sensed the fluctuations in her genetic energy momentarily before she struck. It was because of this that Farrell was clearly aware of the disparity in strength between them; he couldn't even imagine just how strong she had to be to produce such a terrifying aura.
Another reason was that his mouth and throat were too burned to allow him to speak.
After the match, the spectators again erupted in discussion. The overwhelming strength that Zhang Lie and Sun Mengmeng had displayed left many competitors uneasy; no one wanted to be cannon fodder, after all, but it was as though a team of giants had snuck into their midst, so strong that there was no way the competitors could overwhelm them.
Following Zhang Lie and Sun Mengmeng's matches, Fang Yi, Sun Xiaowu, Zhou Ying, and Li Feng all won their second match as well. Although Zhang Lie had emphasized the importance of keeping a low profile, no matter how they tried to downplay their strength and skill, the sharp-eyed spectators easily unveiled the truth.
A strange atmosphere descended on the crowd, while the various hosts, who were already prejudiced against Zhang Lie, seemed about to explode.
The straw that broke the camel's back was the fight between Chu Feng and Charles Murphy. Two figures were clashing against each other at extreme speed, one with a pair of wings on his back and one longsword in each hand. The other hunter wore a suit of black armor, with a serrated polearm behind him.
The fight seemed to be at a stalemate.
The hunter with wings, with wind-attuned genetic energy whirling around him, was none other than Chu Feng. A broad smile was plastered on his face; it seemed to have been quite some time before he let loose.
The hunter in black was Charles Murphy, with sweat on his forehead and a grimace by his lips. At the start of the match, he had expected that this would be an easy victory for him; before the match began, he had consumed a potion that allowed him to temporarily exceed the basic gene fragment capacity, and he was now hovering around the equivalent of a hundred and thirty basic gene fragments.
However, despite consuming this expensive potion, Chu Feng was nevertheless slowly taking the upper hand.
"It's been a while since I've had such an invigorating fight—I have to admit that you're a strong hunter," Chu Feng exclaimed. "If I'm not mistaken, you must have broken through the basic gene capacity somehow!"
Chu Feng praised Charles Murphy's skills, but this sort of praise felt like a backhanded compliment to him.
"As expected—the Chinese hunters do have some method of breaking through the basic gene capacity!" Charles Murphy retorted.
"Haha, you're a smart cookie, aren't you? It's a shame that you've had the misfortune to encounter us in the second match. Admit defeat! Given your current strength, it's impossible for you to defeat me."
"Isn't it too early to be speaking of victory? Take this—[Through the Clouds]!" Charles Murphy did not surrender. Frightening fire-attuned genetic energy gathered around him, forming into a gigantic red polearm that chopped downward with stupendous force.
"Not bad! [Tempest Dance]!" Chu Feng swung both his blades in an elaborate twirl, sending blades of genetic energy flying all around him.
As the two attacks met, smoke filled the arena, obscuring the audience's sight of the match.
Moments later, as the excess energy dissipated, Charles Murphy began to cough. "With your strength... you must have over fifty basic limit fragments, don't you? I've lost. Thank you for going easy on me," he murmured, exasperation laced into his tone.
His attack had been weaker than Chu Feng's, and if his opponent wanted to wound or kill him, he certainly had the opportunity to do so. He was embarrassed and ashamed to have lost, but what could he do?
"It's only a friendly spar, after all—there's no enmity between us." Chu Feng dropped down to the ground and slowly walked off the arena to a breathtaking round of applause.
After the match, the hosts of the tournament finally realized why Zhang Lie and the other Chinese competitors were so strong—it was all because of these damned limit fragments! From their perspective, it was evident that Zhang Lie had a far greater mastery of these limit fragments than they did, and he had clearly made some important discovery that hadn't been publicized.
None of the other countries' hosts could sit still; if they fell behind, they would surely lose out!
Zhang Lie's restriction on selling white-grub cores to foreign parties had already made them rather displeased, so they were certainly going to take advantage of this opportunity to exert pressure on China.
General Hill glanced at Yan Long with displeasure. "General Yan Long, isn't China's attitude regarding these limit fragments rather distasteful?"
"Yes, it's all too unfair for us other countries!" Colonel Carrey immediately added.
"And here I was wondering why the Chinese competitors seemed so strong! We have to report this to the world federation immediately!"
"Exactly. This technology must be spread worldwide to benefit mankind as a whole!"
"Right—such an important technological and scientific advancement can't remain in the hands of a sole hunter or country. The future of mankind is at stake!"
"General Yan Long, we hope you'll be understanding regarding this affair!"
The hosts all crowded around Yan Long, but he didn't back down.
"Is that so? Zhang Lie himself developed this theory and technique on his own—why should he be obligated to share? What right do you have to co-opt his work for your own advancement? Not even China has done so! Has England shared the fruits of its gene-splicing technology? I think not!
"I think I've made matters clear, haven't I? You should be glad that Zhang Lie has released anything about these limit fragments at all— aren't you ashamed to be trying to get more than you deserve?" contemporary romance
In truth, Yan Long was equally astounded by Zhang Lie's progress: before this match, he hadn't realized just how advanced Zhang Lie's research had become. Of course, even if he was upset that Zhang Lie hadn't yet shared the information with him, he would still stand up for him against the predatory inclinations of other countries.
done.co