"Sir, your remarks are a bit nitpicky," the beauty receptionist said, her voice cold and full of irony. "In the words of our country, you're 'picking bones out of an egg,' creating trouble out of nothing. Please tell , which gun is perfect? How much is a Barrett, and how much is ours? Can't you make a comparison? Besides, weapons are tools for soldiers to kill enemies, a second life, not the primary one. Ultimately, it's personal ability that wins battles, not the weaponry. This idea of 'weapon supremacy' ans you'd only die faster on the battlefield. Everyone, is this not true?" she said, turning her head away with dissatisfaction. The room was charged with tension.
Luo Zheng, who had originally planned to leave, stopped when he saw the Black Man's intention to cause a scene. He moved forward, and the beauty receptionist's righteous lecture made the Black Man's face even uglier. Seeing that there was drama to watch, the crowd stayed, egging them on, relishing the chaos.
"Fuck!" the Black Man cursed angrily, throwing the Type 95 assault rifle onto the table, causing many items to fall to the floor. He turned to leave, but the beauty receptionist wouldn't have it. "Stop right there," she demanded. "Pick up those things."
"You're asking for it," the Black Man hissed at the beauty receptionist, his face turning iron blue as a chilling murderous aura burst forth, like an enraged ancient Fierce Beast. His imposing presence lood over the beauty receptionist, who felt full-blown hostility.
The beauty receptionist had never been on a battlefield and couldn't withstand this terrifying murderous intent. She trembled all over, weak and defenseless like a lamb facing a predator, yet she still lifted her head defiantly, showing no sign of submission. This scene caused a hormonal surge among the onlookers, who began to hoot and holler excitedly.
Feeling humiliated, the Black Man's face darkened with sha and anger. He stepped forward, his sturdy body resembling a gorilla, and his cold eyes flashed with murderous intent, giving a clear indication he was ready to strike. The beauty receptionist, unable to bear this invisible pressure, felt deflated and on the verge of tears, yet she stood her ground, trembling but not stepping back.
"Fuck!" roared the Black Man, feeling his dignity challenged and his face lost. In a rage, his eyes reddened, and he swung his palm, as large as a fan, toward the beauty receptionist's face.
"Oh?" jeered the crowd disdainfully. A soldier resorting to violence against a frail beauty receptionist was seen as despicable. They booed loudly.
Seeing that the Black Man was about to strike hard, Luo Zheng knew he had to intervene. Without using his full strength, but making sure his attack was ruthless, he didn't hesitate to protect his compatriot. Stepping in smoothly, his fist clenched with his index finger slightly protruding, forming a cone, he struck hard at the Black Man's navel, directly hitting the Shenque acupoint with lightning speed and fierce strength. Against the solid body of a man as tough as a calf, built to take a beating, he needed his full force.
"Puh!" Luo Zheng struck faster than the Black Man's reflexes could act. Blinded by anger, his cognitive senses lost their usual sharpness; his focus only on the beauty receptionist, he didn't anticipate an ambush. Hit unexpectedly, he felt a numbing pain in his rib nerves, his bowels vibrated uncontrollably, and a burst of breath knocked out of him, his body malfunctioning, prompting shock and panic as he looked towards his assailant—a Yellow Race man shorter than himself.
After the successful hit, Luo Zheng did not advance further but retreated explosively. This wasn't a competition ring; there was no need for a fight to the death. Positioning himself in front of the beauty receptionist, and seeing Lan Xue also co to stand by her side, he watched the Black Man with a cold, stern gaze. The onlookers were amazed to see the Black Man motionless, his arm raised mid-strike, and their gaze turned to Luo Zheng, examining him with curiosity sparkling in their eyes.
"Fuck, seeking death." The Black Man, with his robust body, recovered quickly, breaking out in a cold sweat. That mont of physical dysfunction on the battlefield could have cost him his life several tis over. Furious, he cursed and assud a fighting stance, ready to attack, when suddenly a gunshot rang out, and a whole bunch of Peacekeeping Forces rushed over.
The Peacekeeping Forces were responsible for maintaining order and no one would confront them head-on unless absolutely necessary. The Black Man, irate, withdrew his stance, taking a few steps back, and glared venomously at Luo Zheng with a look that could kill. Luo Zheng just coldly sneered, then turned to the beautiful hostess and whispered, "I'll leave the rest to you. We need to pull out now and not reveal our identities."
The beautiful hostess, hearing a familiar voice, felt a sense of comfort and managed a faint smile, saying, "I didn't expect you guys were on our side, the warriors from the competition, right? Thank you for stepping in." Her gaze towards Luo Zheng was filled with gratitude.
"No problem," Luo Zheng said offhandedly. Seeing that the Peacekeeping Forces had arrived, he exchanged a glance with Lan Xue and nimbly slipped into the crowd. The Peacekeeping Forces, seeing that no major disturbance had arisen, asked the hostess a few questions. Rembering Luo Zheng's instructions and not wanting to cause unnecessary trouble for Luo Zheng and his companions, she downplayed the incident as a minor quarrel. The Peacekeeping Forces, with no charges pressed by the involved parties, let the matter rest.
"Your acupoint striking skill is getting more proficient," Lan Xue said in a low voice within the crowd.
"Didn't expect that guy to recover that fast. Seems like I'll have to go all-out against these Black n in the future. What's our next move?" Luo Zheng spoke softly, his eyes sweeping around, constantly scouting the surrounding terrain and layout of the tents, making ntal notes.
As a Hunter, it was always essential to be familiar with the terrain, both to prevent ambushes and to retreat efficiently. As a soldier, knowing the lay of the land was even more critical—it was a habit and a basic requirent for survival. Lan Xue, seeing a group of people approaching, knew trouble was brewing. She raised an eyebrow but didn't move, watching the newcors with a cold stare.
Luo Zheng saw the approaching group and his expression changed. His hand was poised with an iron nail. Silver needles were too light, and with insufficient training, he wasn't yet able to utilize them fully. Luo Zheng had brought a lot of iron nails to the competition, each as long as a little finger, specially processed by a fellow soldier in charge of equipnt to be hard and sharp, capable of piercing through a door. If these people dared to cause trouble, Luo Zheng wouldn't mind starting a slaughter.
"Yo, a beauty?" The leader of the newcors walked over with a leering laugh, his companions chiming in with agreent, their eyes full of lust as they looked at Lan Xue. However, Luo Zheng keenly detected a hint of caution hidden in their greedy eyes, realizing they were deliberately seeking trouble. He stepped forward to shield Lan Xue, ready for confrontation.
"Yo, a knight in shining armor has arrived. Boys, what do you say we should do?" The leader mocked with a sneer, his towering fra exuding a subtle murderous intent.
Luo Zheng was shocked, knowing that anyone who could control their aura was not to be underestimated, and he was intensely curious. They had no prior feuds, so why the murderous intent? Sothing was off. Beside him, Lan Xue murmured, "Our visitors seem to have ill intentions."
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