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Chapter 294: Mantlescramble Battle (Twenty-Nine)
Chapter 294: Mantlescramble Battle (Twenty-Nine)
"Following the one who placed a bet after Wen Sent... has this kid also grasped it?" War hovered in the sky, gazing down at Feng Bu Jue several hundred meters below.
"Hehehe... Feeling like the outcome’s already decided?" Wooly’s sleazy chuckle echoed from beside him.
War turned his head, eyeing the man in the black suit whose glasses always reflected white light. "I finally understand why Wen Sent wanted to set up this Kill Game Mode."
"You think he’s helping me?" Wooly asked.
"Isn’t he?" War countered.
"Hehehe... That’s where you’re wrong. Xi De is his disciple—he should’ve been helping the candidate Xi De chose." Wooly grinned. "Wen Sent knows perfectly well that I don’t need his help." His tone darkened. "Besides, in the end, there can only be one winner in this gamble. Assisting anyone might eventually become a threat to yourself."
"Your words make sense", War replied. "But right now, I’d say there’s an Eastern saying that fits... Crying over spilled milk while holding the jug."
"Hehehe... True enough. Objectively speaking, Feng Bu Jue has gained tremendous advantage." Wooly didn’t deny it, his grin widening. "But that’s got nothing to do with Wen Sent." He paused. "Wen Sent doesn’t know that before this Kill Game Mode began, Feng Bu Jue was already on the verge of grasping Soul Intent.
"Feng Bu Jue is a remarkably talented individual, but his wisdom has ironically become a restraint. In past scenarios, he rarely experienced true desperation or life-or-death combat. He always solved problems with strategy, reducing the difficulty of battles or avoiding them altogether.
"If he’d fought against stronger opponents like a martial artist-type player, he might’ve grasped Soul Intent even earlier than Wen Sent’s chosen candidate."
"Are you indirectly saying..." War’s voice sharpened, "that my chosen candidate’s aptitude is inferior to yours?" Since Seven Kill was a martial artist-type, Wooly’s words stung.
"Hehehe... Isn’t that obvious?" Wooly’s grin turned positively lecherous. "Not just your candidate—none of the others can compare to Feng Bu Jue’s comprehension." He was practically taunting Feng Bu Jue’s enemies now. "Battling powerful foes, being pushed to one’s limits—that’s the fundamental condition for grasping Soul Intent. Your candidates are all martial artist-types with plenty of such experiences, and they even have fear as an aid. But Feng Bu Jue crossed that threshold through sheer willpower, without a shred of fear."
"Hmph... Keep gloating while you still can", War replied. "My stance hasn’t changed—I still believe Seven Kill won’t lose to anyone besides Tian Tian Gui Xiao in direct combat."
"Hehehe... Then let’s wait and see." Wooly pushed his glasses up, his tone cryptic. "Oh, and about Wen Sent’s motives... Let me give you a hint: Sometimes, to win, you must first lose."
War shot Wooly another glance but said nothing, already understanding the unspoken meaning.
...
"Alright, Unknown." Feng Bu Jue’s stamina value read 100/2800 as he glanced at his status. "With Soul Intent aiding me, even the physical energy required for martial arts can be micro-managed. By streamlining unnecessary movements, tasks that once cost three or four points of stamina now require just one."
But there were three opponents now. Damian and Squire weren’t particularly strong—individually, their hand-to-hand combat skills were even inferior to Shiva’s. But Death Angel... In terms of pure martial prowess, he might even surpass the original Batman. Nightwing and Jason Todd might struggle against him.
And all three were major comic characters. If my reasoning is correct, attempting to kill a main character in this DC universe might literally get me struck by lightning...
"This is tricky..." Feng Bu Jue muttered aloud. "A hundred stamina points might not even be enough to escape..."
Suddenly—swoosh! swoosh! swoosh!
Three overlapping whistling sounds tore through the air as three dark shadows streaked from the night sky.
Squire and Damian couldn’t dodge in time, both ensnared. Only Death Angel leapt sideways, narrowly avoiding capture.
"Batman Batarangs?" The three heroes recoiled in shock.
These Batarangs were modified—each pair connected by a rope launched from a grappling gun. The mechanism worked like this: dual blades flew past either side of a target’s body, and upon contact, the ropes triggered the blades to spiral in opposite directions, binding the target within seconds.
Damian and Squire suffered no injuries but were immobilized, their bodies yanked off their feet by the momentum and slammed onto the street.
"This way!" A man’s voice called from the rooftop of a nearby building.
Feng Bu Jue knew the voice was directed at him. He didn’t know who the speaker was or whether it was a trap, but he had no choice. Damian and Squire would break free soon—he couldn’t afford hesitation.
Feng Bu Jue darted into a nearby alley, no more than three or four meters wide. He ricocheted between the walls of the buildings on either side, quickly scaling to the sixth-floor rooftop.
Death Angel naturally gave chase. He knew the two younger allies didn’t need his help to escape the bindings—the priority was to intercept the target before "Unknown" slipped away.
But suddenly, two more shadows slashed through the night sky—one a Batman Batarang, the other a smoke grenade. Death Angel blocked with his twin blades this time. The Batarang deflected harmlessly, but the smoke grenade exploded on contact with his flaming sword, engulfing him in a cloud of white smoke.
When Death Angel burst through the smoke, both Unknown and the hidden ambushers had vanished...
...
Fifteen minutes later, atop Wayne Tower’s rooftop.
"You’ve been watching too many cop dramas—did you have to pick this spot for a fight?" Feng Bu Jue asked.
A fully armored Batman stood before him, delivering a quip: "Sorry, I’m the police."
In reality, Seven Kill’s words weren’t far from the truth—he was indeed a police officer in the real world(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
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