Chapter Sixty-Four: Consecutive Slayings

On the stage, the seventh man was frantically dodging Xiao Ye’s attacks. Unfortunately, there was simply no way for him to match Xiao Ye’s speed. Soon, a thunderous crash resounded—the man was sent flying by a single punch and killed on the spot.

This one had forced Xiao Ye to move a bit more than the others, but in the end, he was still crushed like an ant, utterly failing to exhaust Xiao Ye in the slightest.

“So this is all there is? At this rate, you’ll never kill me.”

Xiao Ye rolled his shoulders and flexed his arms, speaking to Red Ghost with an air of ease.

Red Ghost was visibly angry—not just at the incompetence of his men, but even more at his own lack of understanding about Xiao Ye, a weakness he could ill afford.

Before Red Ghost could retort, the eighth man leapt onto the stage, and this one finally made Xiao Ye pay attention.

The newcomer’s hair was wild and tangled, as if it hadn’t been washed in ages. His complexion was unnaturally pale, almost as though he hadn’t seen sunlight for a long time.

Unlike everyone who had come before, this man gave Xiao Ye a completely different feeling. His gaze was vacant, lacking even the basic spark of thought or comprehension that Red Ghost possessed.

In his eyes there was only a rabid bloodlust and a singular, bestial focus—he panted like a true beast.

“This one is even stranger than the last,” Xiao Ye mused, watching the man before him. He’d seen many of these types tonight, but this one still surprised him.

“Be careful—these last few dishes are meant for your enjoyment. Don’t die too quickly!” Red Ghost cackled maniacally at Xiao Ye on the stage.

At the sound of Red Ghost’s voice, the man snapped to attention and lunged at Xiao Ye with ferocious strength.

Unprepared, Xiao Ye was struck—his sleeve was instantly torn to shreds, and bloody grooves appeared on his arm.

Staring at his wound, Xiao Ye frowned deeply. This man was truly bizarre.

Yet the strangest part was still to come. The man pressed the attack, both faster and stronger than any who had come before.

“Yes, just like that. Kill him and you’ll be rewarded even more!” Red Ghost shouted from below, his excitement palpable, the shadow on his heart from before swept away.

Xiao Ye, however, was using his usual tactic of feigned retreat—it was the best way to gauge his opponent’s true abilities.

The man was not only incredibly fast, but Xiao Ye noticed something startling: during his rush, the man’s footing faltered and his ankle twisted at an unnatural angle.

Yet this didn’t slow him down in the least, nor did his expression betray any pain—his face remained blank, unfathomable.

“Could it be… he doesn’t feel pain at all?”

Xiao Ye wondered silently, deciding to probe further.

He focused his attacks on the man’s ankle, tripping him three times in quick succession. Yet every time the man rose, his speed was undiminished—as if he didn’t feel a thing.

Only then did Xiao Ye realize why his attacks had done so little—far from weakening, the man seemed to grow fiercer. This was no ordinary person; he was a killing machine, precise and merciless.

“I almost envy this ability,” Xiao Ye thought, marveling. “If you can’t feel pain, all you’d have to worry about is not exhausting yourself.”

But jesting aside, the real question was how to defeat this opponent. At present, Xiao Ye couldn’t find a single flaw in the man’s defense—there was no opening to exploit.

They exchanged several more blows. Though Xiao Ye held the advantage, it brought him little benefit; unless the wound was severe, the man was unfazed, his lack of pain rendering him almost invincible.

The man’s body was a mass of gruesome wounds, making him appear all the more terrifying.

“What’s with that look on your face? Seems this dish is giving you quite a bit of trouble. Let’s see if you can survive to the end!” Red Ghost taunted from below, his laughter biting.

At these words, Xiao Ye let out a laugh of his own, the same self-assured confidence returning to his face.

Red Ghost snorted, cursing under his breath, “Go on, laugh. Let’s see how long you can keep that up, you bastard.”

Xiao Ye had made up his mind. If this dragged on, he’d eventually be worn down. He resolved to go all out and shatter the man’s vital organs.

It was ruthless, but also the least bloody method he could think of—if he destroyed the heart, the liver, or the like, what would pain matter?

The man came at him again, but his techniques were limited, his martial arts inferior to Xiao Ye’s. Against such attacks, Xiao Ye had a hundred ways to defend.

Parrying the blow, Xiao Ye gathered his strength into his left fist and struck the man’s liver. He seemed to hear a faint cracking sound—the man’s liver must have been ruptured.

Blood gushed from the man’s mouth, the punch so powerful it penetrated deep, damaging more than just the liver.

An ordinary person would have long since passed out from the agony. Pain, after all, is a defense mechanism—when it exceeds endurance, the mind shuts down for self-preservation.

Pain, too, is our most primal proof that we exist in this world.

Staggering up, the man spat out blood laced with fragments of viscera, a ghastly sight. Xiao Ye was unfazed—he’d seen this too many times before.

Ignoring the blood at his lips, the man charged again, but his grievous injuries at last began to slow him.

“So you’re not invincible after all. Let’s see you keep running now!” Xiao Ye clenched his fists in excitement, having found a way to kill his opponent. He grew even more aggressive.

The man lunged once more, but Xiao Ye seized the moment, punching him straight in the chest.

This blow was even heavier than the one delivered to the first man; the man’s heart seized up, a third of its tissue destroyed.

He suddenly froze, a mechanical, splintering sound emanating from his chest. Xiao Ye paused, momentarily unsure where the noise had come from.

A few drops of blood from the man’s mouth splattered onto Xiao Ye as the body collapsed, shaking the entire arena.

Red Ghost was still basking in his earlier triumph when the man fell, never to rise again.

“Next! Keep going!” Xiao Ye withdrew his fist, wiped the blood from his arm, and, turning his back to Red Ghost, shouted loudly.

The psychological blow to Red Ghost was immense. Instinctively, he clenched his fist—now, more than ever, he wanted nothing more than to rid himself of the calamity that was Xiao Ye.