Chapter 39

  Betting & Competing (IV)

  Long Tao barely stopped himself from yawning as he heard his name being called out. He'd paid some attention at the start, but all of these kids were... well, kids. They didn't know how to fight, they didn't know any special martial arts, and only a few of them were even, technically speaking, cultivators.

  Thus, he grew bored and meditated on what the 'Antechamber' was. He presumed it was likely a holy cultivation site, or perhaps a unique array that forcibly inserted Qi into one's meridians, or perhaps a method to enlarge meridians... whatever it was, he was kind of looking forward to it.

  This body's talents, after all, were abysmal, and though he did manage to reconstruct them a decent amount, they still weren't even half as good as they were in his previous life. If there was something to accelerate the progress, he wouldn't say no to it.

  That was when his name was called out and he lazily walked up to the stage.

  Opposite him was a relatively tall kid, about a year or two older than 'him', with an unsurprisingly vicious look on his face. Beyond that, however, lay a ruined foundation of a hapless talent--he seemed purposefully 'bred' for this competition and nothing else, as the furthest he'd ever advance was the second stage of the Qi Condensation.

  Perhaps he knew and took the gamble, or perhaps he was blind, truly believing his talents had awakened; regardless, he was a blunt instrument used to try and win this thing.

  He glanced over at the viewing area, where he saw his Master engaged in a rather tense conversation. Despite being able to do it, he didn't actually dare listen in on them; for all the shortcomings of this place, they still had a Void Transformation Realm cultivator, someone capable of sensing Qi vibrations in the air.

  Whatever the conversation was, it brought up an expression he'd never seen on his Master's face: anger. Pure, unmitigated anger.

  He'd seen plenty of frustration and annoyance and even bouts of exasperation, but no matter how much Long Tao pushed, he never actually saw his Master get angry.

  Chances were that it had something to do with him, though as for what... well, he could venture a guess or two.

  "Hey kid, just surrender quickly," the boy opposite him spoke out. "Hm? Hey, aren't you that moron that chose that stupid cripple as a Master? Ha ha ha, lucky me~ maybe you shouldn't surrender so I can have some fun!"

  "..." The conversation at the viewing area stopped, likely because of the stupid kid's words. Even if the words were true, they were not to be spoken by a mere disciple. Not even Core Disciples would utter them publicly, let alone some irrelevant dreg.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Are you ignoring me, you bastard? Hah! Some courage you have! That's it! I won't let you surrender! I will break every bone in your body, and I will..."

  Long Tao tuned out the voice, shifting his gaze over to the stalwart figure. He'd been pent up for a while now with so many things: the betrayal, the death, the resurrection... He'd remained mostly unmoving the past six months or so of his return and would have ordinarily glided through this tournament without much fanfare.

  He'd do what his Master asked him to do--pretend.

  But...

  His lips curled up into a smile, a strange and curiously childlike smile, as he waited for the judging elder to announce the start of the fight.

  **

  No!

  I heaved onto my feet as quickly as I could, but not quickly enough; before I could shout at Long Tao to quit whatever the hell he was planning, the judge announced the start of the fight.

  Well, it wasn't a fight, not really.

  If previous ones were brutal, with kids beating each other until black and blue, this one was... special.

  The tall, older kid rushed in without a care in the world, thinking the victory was secured. I mean, why wouldn't he? Well, I knew plenty of reasons not to, but he didn't.

  Thus, Long Tao remained unmoving until the boy came within a foot or two, which was when the former moved. He easily ducked past the first swing of the fist, precisely kicking out and striking the back of the boy's knee. The tall figure crumbled like a piece of paper, losing his footing immediately, just in time for a roundhouse kick to slather him across the face.

  Blood and teeth flew out, but before the body could fully bend backward and roll, Long Tao stepped forward and stopped it, grabbing the boy by the hair and yanking him back.

  One fist. Two. Three.

  Within five or so seconds, the boy's face was disfigured beyond count, blood pouring out like a river, yet... it wasn't over. As he finally came to and tried swinging back at Long Tao, the latter dodged and moved backward, behind the boy, grabbing him by the neck and quite literally heaving him over his shoulder before slamming him directly into the arena.

  The sound was... suffice to say, even the old men around me winced for a moment at the sound of the cracking bones.

  But... it wasn't over.

  Without giving him a chance to rest, Long Tao did it thrice more, over his shoulder and down, until the boy was whimpering. I noticed that the judge was just about to announce the end, but it was too slow; Long Tao must have seen it as well, which was why he kicked the boy up before delivering the final kick right in the abdomen, sending the tall body flying out of the arena like a cannonball and into a nearby wall.

  Yup.

  This bastard! I told him, so many times, to just take it easy and milk the victories! If he showed off so much at the start, these old shits won't fall for the bait!

  Under the stunning silence and incredulous gazes, Long Tao wiped his hands against the robe and walked to the edge, near us, before looking up at me, a glint flashing through his eyes.

  Oh no. I have a bad feeling about this.

  "Master," he spoke boldly and loudly. "I have defended your honor!"

  "..."

  YOU LITTLE SHITHEAD!

  Just then, every single head did a full turn from him and onto me. The fixation, the confusion, the anger... they now think I told him to go out and nigh-kill the boy! Shit! This old monster... caused havoc and immediately just faded into the background.

  Haaah. I wanted to cry. Truly. I wanted to openly expose my grievances with my disciple. Of course I wouldn't, because even I am not that stupid, but still... haah.

  "Good job," I barely squeezed through my teeth, taking on the blame.

  Anyway. What's done is done. They'll likely start thinking that I've bared my fangs for a reason, perhaps because I want to increase my position or something. Regardless, at least it helps me with my reputation a bit.

  A demented psycho is better than a hedonistic weakling... right?!