He really did co back.
The sudden interruption of the match left a large portion of the crowd totally clueless about what had just happened.
Following Ling San's gaze, everyone finally spotted that man wearing the Huaxia team uniform.
"Boss…"
"Boss."
Lin Hongbin and He Qiang, who were just now wheezing in and out on their last breaths, sprang straight up from their chairs the instant they saw Xiaofan.
"Boss, y-you finally showed up."
"Ah, you guys all did great."
Xiaofan just gave them a simple greeting and, without slowing his steps, kept walking toward the ring.
Pressure… a vast, surging pressure rolled toward him with every one of his steps. Ling San was shocked by the Killing Qi Ye Xiaofan was giving off. For the first ti—yes, the very first ti—a "normal" person's aura alone had completely pinned him down.
"Lei Xiaolei admits defeat. Next bout, I'm up."
After he spoke, Xiaofan glanced toward the judges' panel not far away, locking eyes with Fan Lingtian.
Right now Fan Lingtian was beyond happy, beyond excited. His hands were actually trembling.
"Ref, substitution. Fifth fighter, substitute: Ye Xiaofan."
Fan Lingtian had long since left a slot for Xiaofan on the roster. No matter what, he had always believed in this young man.
Around the ring, the audience started buzzing. So even began questioning Huaxia's decision to send out a substitute as their final fighter.
Both sides only had one fighter left, and the guy from Japan was clearly way stronger than any of the ones who'd gone up before.
Now that even the one-vs-five monster Lei Xiaolei couldn't handle him, what good was a sub going to do? Might as well have sent up a regular main mber.
Of course, the sharper ones seed to catch on to sothing. If this guy was coming on at the most critical mont, then this young man ought to be even stronger, right?
Either way, whether you're a substitute or a main, as long as you can win, you're the man.
A match is competition—there's winning and losing—but there was one thing everyone agreed on: they really didn't want to lose to Japan.
"So this is that Ye Xiaofan you kept talking about. Looks pretty normal to , I don't see any three heads and six arms."
"You say that like Ren Zhongtian had three heads and six arms. Back then his build wasn't even as big as mine. Don't be fooled by this kid being a bit skinny—once he starts throwing hands, heh…"
Seeing Xiaofan arrive, Fan Lingtian finally relaxed. In his eyes, even though this tournant had only reached the second round, as long as this guy was here, the championship was already in Huaxia's pocket.
"Alright, today I'm going to really see just how strong this young man you never stop praising actually is."
At this mont, almost everyone's gaze was locked onto the ring. In the end, who would be eliminated, and who would make it to the next round?
The one with the most complicated feelings right now was undoubtedly Ling San standing on the ring.
Black Mantis, a man who could even kill Muto— even as a Mutant himself, he was sure he wasn't this guy's match.
But Ling San also had a pretty good idea just how terrifying this guy's strength was. Besides, if he gave up at a ti like this, he'd be disgracing his country.
Yet if he didn't admit defeat and this guy decided to go for the kill, that loss would be way too big.
"Hoo, you finally made it."
"Heh, good work."
"I'll leave the rest to you, I'm gonna go lie flat for a while."
"Mm."
"Oh right, he's a Mutant, sa level as last ti."
"I can tell."
"We're drinking tonight, and you're paying."
"Ah, of course."
Dragging his exhausted body, Xiaolei walked past Xiaofan with a smile.
Their palms shot up and slapped together in a high five. So things don't need to be said out loud—brothers just get it.
After the referee verified Xiaofan's identity, the match started up again.
As soon as the ref announced the bout, the cheers and shouts exploded once more.
"Why not surrender? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?" Xiaofan's voice was low, his gaze on Ling San icy cold.
"…" Ling San's breathing grew heavy, the pressure crushing the air from his lungs. His eyes stayed locked on Xiaofan, terrified the guy might suddenly rush in.
"Not talking? Then we fight."
Raising his leg, Xiaofan stepped forward.
Ling San hurriedly brought up his guard.
"Whoosh."
One step… it looked like just a simple step forward. But in the very next instant, Xiaofan was already in front of Ling San.
"Bang."
His punch was ridiculously fast—even the dia caras weren't ready to track it. It flashed by in the blink of an eye, and in the next second…
"Crack."
"Swish."
A figure shot off the ring like a cannonball, slamd to the ground below, and rolled over and over several tis before finally coming to a stop.
Silence… aside from the sounds of fighting from the other three rings, everything around this one was dead still.
The caran's lenses seed frozen on a single fra. The flashes stopped as well.
The applause died completely. Every pair of eyes was wide with shock, every mouth forming the sa round "o" shape.
At the sa ti, the corners of Fan Lingtian's lips curled into a "just like that" smile. He nudged the dazed Number Two sitting beside him with his elbow and raised his eyebrows, as if he were showing off.
"Damn, this kid's a beast."
Below the ring, Ling San spit out a mouthful of blood. He cupped his jaw in both hands, forcefully setting the bone back in place, then looked up at Xiaofan with lingering fear.
He had a Mutant's body—his skin, muscles, and bones had all been strengthened. And yet this guy had dislocated his jaw with a single punch, and judging by his expression, he hadn't even gone all out.
"You should be grateful you t on the ring. The rules say if I beat my opponent to death, I'm the one who loses. Count yourself lucky. Ref, he's out of bounds—you can announce the result now."
Turning around, Xiaofan slowly walked down from the ring, high-fiving his teammates one by one.
Even after half a minute, the atmosphere around them was still weird. People were actually doubting whether what they'd just seen with their own eyes was real.
Finally, soone started clapping, then more and more joined in, and then a deafening wave of applause rolled out. A dense storm of flashes lit up the air all around Xiaofan.
Stealing the spotlight like this… putting on this much of a show… damn.
"Kid, look over here."
"Co on, young man, strike a pose."
"Right, what did the ref say this kid's na was just now?"
"Sothing with Ye… Ye what?"
"Ye Xiaofan. That na… feels like I've heard it sowhere. Really familiar."
"Three years ago, the International Free Fighting Championship. The winner—an eighteen-year-old college kid. Rember?"
"Three years ago? I hadn't even started working then."
"Ah, I rember. Holy crap, it's him, it's actually him. Man, I'd just started as a reporter back then. I went to cover it with our team leader, and that last final had so fired up. Damn, if you hadn't ntioned it I would've totally forgotten. Ye Xiaofan—turns out it's that Ye Xiaofan. Wow, impressive…"
The reporters began to gradually link today's Ye Xiaofan with the Ye Xiaofan from three years ago. They scrambled to send the first-hand scoop back to their companies, urging them to imdiately put together the most comprehensive feature they could on this Ye Xiaofan.
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