Chapter 71: Tian Dao Siming! Are You Going to Destroy My 100% Win Rate?!

“Hahaha! No way, Chenkong, you’ve been holding back this whole time just to pull off this joke?!”

“Chen Kong: Bronze accidentally entered a Legend-tier match. I’m deeply sorry.”

“Good news: Lao Kong’s attitude is professional. Bad news: that’s all that’s professional.”

The dimensional audience burst into laughter as they watched the screen—Chen Kong, who had just performed a series of dramatic, overly serious motions before throwing, now slumped into a pitiful “I’m sorry I’m human” expression the moment the shot missed.

The sheer contrast was unbearable. Anyone who didn’t laugh was clearly a saint.

Though Chen Kong had missed his golden opportunity, Goen wasn’t about to let it slip.

His right hand, gripping the lead ball, slowly tightened. The muscles in his arm swelled violently, tearing through his sleeve and sending fabric fragments flying.

That alone was far more intimidating than Chen Kong’s earlier flashy but hollow display.

But just as Goen finished his wind-up and prepared to deliver a crushing blow—his eyes widened.

Chen Kong was gone.

Vanished from his sight.

Huh?! Invisibility? Or some other ability?

Given that Chen Kong’s Stellar Source was The Dreamer—a Trait Class capable of copying others’ Stellar Sources—it wasn’t surprising he could vanish.

Goen’s mind raced instantly.

There were many types of invisibility, but no matter which one it was, Goen was certain Chen Kong was still on the battlefield.

Because if he’d truly left, Goen would’ve immediately received a feedback signal from his own Stellar Source—confirmation of victory.

Realizing this, Goen made his decision.

“You think hiding buys you time? How naive.”

In stunned silence from everyone watching, Goen activated a brand-new, terrifying mode.

He didn’t care where Chen Kong was hiding. Instead, he began hurling the lead ball relentlessly into the red team’s arena.

Instantly, the tiles on the hotel hall floor began cracking.

Shards exploded outward like bullets, scattering in all directions.

But thanks to an invisible barrier surrounding the Dodgeball field—likely part of the game’s design—neither the tiles nor the lead ball could escape.

Each time the ball hit the edge, it rebounded like it had hit a wall.

Goen used this mechanism to his advantage: catching the rebounding ball, re-attacking, repeat.

With every successive barrage, Chen Kong’s space to dodge shrank.

Beneath the shattered arena lay the hotel’s basement level.

Chen Kong dared not risk falling—what if that counted as leaving the official playing field?

But if he stayed, he’d be trapped.

He didn’t know how long a single Dodgeball match lasted—but he knew he wouldn’t last until the end.

So, with gritted teeth, Chen Kong made a desperate gamble.

He remembered: in the rules Goen had announced, there was no mention of prohibiting direct attacks on opponents.

He wasn’t sure if this was a hidden rule or not.

But facing certain defeat, he’d rather bet everything.

Chen Kong might be indecisive—but when it came to high-stakes moments, he never lacked courage.

Acting fast, he drew his black gun and stepped to the closest point in his own zone to Goen.

He poured every ounce of his star energy into the weapon, preparing for his ultimate shot.

This was his only chance. He couldn’t afford to waste it.

Meanwhile, Kalolin watched the shrinking battlefield with growing dread.

Though she couldn’t pinpoint Chen Kong’s exact location or intentions, after a moment of deep thought, she suddenly understood.

“Stop, Chen Kong!” she shouted.

Too late.

As she spoke, a gunshot rang out.

The moment Goen heard it, he ripped off his Dodgeball jersey—revealing the black-and-green referee uniform beneath.

Pang!

Chen Kong’s Void Pattern Bullet—faster than sight—suspended in midair, frozen just a step away from Goen’s chest.

Chen Kong’s eyes widened in shock.

This was the first time his bullet had failed to erase an opponent’s star energy.

“What… how? My bullet should’ve erased even Rongshan’s energy!”

“Rongshan? A mere First-Rank Stellar Envoy? What could he possibly compare to me?”

Goen smirked, bending down to pick up the frozen bullet like a rare artifact.

“Bullets that erase star energy… I still can’t get over how fascinating they are, no matter how many times I see them.”

“I don’t know the exact mechanism behind your bullet’s power—but one thing I do know for certain…”

“Every Stellar Source ability, every Stellar Source technique, requires a foundation of basic star energy to function.”

“After reviewing your fight footage against Rongshan frame by frame, I discovered your bullet’s effect has a clear limit.”

“And that limit? The base star energy value contained within the bullet.”

“Once that energy is depleted, the bullet becomes just… ordinary.”

With that, Goen stepped forward, towering over Chen Kong.

Though he still wore his ridiculous Hachi-style mask, the sheer pressure radiating from him sent chills down Chen Kong’s spine.

His body trembled involuntarily.

Goen grinned.

“Listen well, kid. When facing a stranger—especially a stranger from a major association—you must be on high alert.”

“Because our association holds the most advanced star energy cultivation system in existence. And we’ve amassed decades of experience fighting every type of Stellar Envoy.”

“The Dreamer? Others may not know how to handle it. But we do.”

“There are two ways to deal with The Dreamer. First: know all their tricks, and prepare a counter-strategy. Second: force them into using only the abilities we already know.”

“Few have ever achieved the first. So throughout our history, every time we’ve faced a Dreamer, we’ve used the second.”

“Alright. I’ve said my piece. Since you’ve made your move… now it’s my turn.”

“Red Team Member · Chen Kong—malicious attack on a referee. Yellow Card, one.”

As Goen raised the card high, a strange force descended upon Chen Kong.

But Chen Kong had just emptied his entire star energy into his gun.

No energy remained to activate Void Pattern and cancel the penalty.

From this moment on, his defeat was sealed.

Goen re-donned his Dodgeball jersey, smiling at the desperate Chen Kong.

“Relax, don’t look so grim. You’re not dying.”

“Don’t worry—I may take bribes, but I never break the rules. I know exactly where the line is.”

“So… surrender. If you don’t, I’ll have to personally escort you out.”

“And if I do that? I can’t guarantee you’ll walk away unscathed.”

Chen Kong said nothing at first.

Instead, he turned to Kalolin, watching from outside the arena.

She was biting her nails, her eyes flashing with streams of data—calculating frantically.

But after just a few seconds, she gave up.

The moment she realized Goen could switch between athlete and referee at will, she understood: their chances were gone.

Chen Kong’s surrender was inevitable.

And with one loss already on the board, even if she and Chen Xing managed to tie the remaining matches, they’d still lose.

In short—since she sent Chen Kong into the ring, the match was already lost.

But she couldn’t be blamed.

In such limited conditions, she’d already done everything possible.

And against a veteran, seasoned, sadistic association Stellar Envoy like Goen? She was just a fourteen-year-old girl, barely out of the training pool.

Experience? She had none.

Goen had been swimming in the second-tier fish tank for years.

Sighing, Kalolin whispered, “Surrender, Chen Kong. Do what he says. We… can’t win.”

When even Kalolin said it, Chen Kong was utterly broken.

He opened his mouth, trying to speak—anything—but no sound came out.

Finally, under the crushing weight of reality, he lowered his head.

And muttered the words he never wanted to say.

“…I surrender.”

Goen grinned, patting his shoulder.

“Smart move. You’re not a bad kid. Losing to a second-tier association Envoy? That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But—”

Just then, a voice cut through the silence.

“Who says we lost?”

Goen spun around in shock.

At the grand entrance of the hotel hall, Tian Dao stood with a calm smile.

His arrival stunned everyone—including Chen Kong, who lit up with hope.

"Brother Tiandao!"

“Tian Dao!” x2

Tian Dao strode forward with his usual arrogant swagger, stopping beside Kalolin.

“Seriously, I’m gone for five minutes, and you guys already got wiped out like a bunch of amateurs?”

“Kalolin, your team’s not this weak, are you?”

Kalolin didn’t argue.

From a tactical standpoint, if Goen could play both athlete and referee, they had zero chance of winning.

“Okay, how the hell did you even get in? My Crack Prism wasn’t deactivated!”

Tian Dao adjusted his sunglasses.

“Don’t ask how. I just did.”

“…”

Goen’s head was now full of black lines.

He didn’t know how Tian Dao had entered—but he knew it was bad news.

Tian Dao’s Vector Control was perfect for Dodgeball.

And Tian Dao clearly knew it.

Without hesitation, he waved Chen Kong over. “Come on, Kong. Hand me your jersey. I’ll take over this round.”

“No! No new players allowed during the match!”

Tian Dao scoffed. “Please. You think I’m stupid enough to believe that crap? You’re just running a big-ass Stellar Energy Spell here.”

“I saw the spell you pre-set around this area. There’s no rule about banning new players.”

Silence.

Goen froze—again.

And this time, the silence lasted longer than any of his previous defeats.

Because Kalolin had reasoned her way through the hidden rules.

Tian Dao? He’d seen the spell’s structure with his eyes.

What kind of eye was that?! How could he see the architecture of a Stellar Energy Spell like it was written in plain text?!

This wasn’t strategy. This was cheating.

Real cheating.

Tell me—what’s the difference?!

The dimensional audience was in shock.

> “Bro, turn it off. This is getting boring.”

> “Tian Dao: You analyze. I just read the answer key.”

> “Heaven’s Eye, Haki’s Eyes—could this actually be the eye of the universe? Previews the future, sees through spell structures… this guy’s overpowered!”

> “Still getting buffed? This is Tier 0. The devs clearly adore Haki like their own son. What’s next? A new skill that lets him rewrite reality?”

In the midst of the flood of chaotic comments, Tian Dao slipped into Chen Kong’s Dodgeball jersey and walked into the repaired red team arena.

Seeing him actually step in, Goen hesitated—then growled.

“Tian Dao Siming. I’m both athlete and referee. Even if your Vector Control is perfect for this game… if you attack me three times, I can issue you three Yellow Cards and kick you out. Are you really willing to risk it?”

Tian Dao couldn’t help but laugh.

“Three times? Let me show you why I don’t need three.”

He picked up the lead ball.

And in everyone’s stunned gaze, the ball began spinning—visible, accelerating, until its surface was covered in swirling black light.

Even before throwing, Goen felt the danger.

“Go!”

With a baseball-style throw, Tian Dao unleashed the ball.

The air ripped.

The ball slammed into the arena barrier behind Goen—and the barrier cracked.

The barrier, previously unbreakable, now showed a deep dent.

Boom!

The impact shattered the barrier completely, sending the ball flying through a hotel wall—leaving a massive hole.

“Still think you need three hits?” Tian Dao asked, smiling.

Goen stared, his face pale.

“Tian Dao Siming… what are you doing?! Are you trying to destroy my 100% Win Rate?!”

Tian Dao, Kalolin, Chen Kong, and Chen Xing: …

Tian Dao scratched his head.

“…So what do you want me to do?”

“Draw. Call this match a Draw.”

“Why should I listen to you?”

“100,000 Stellar Source Coins.”

“Deal.”

The scene was surreal.

One moment, they were ready to fight to the death.

The next, they were sealing a deal over money.

Chen Kong and the others were speechless.

They’d imagined every possible outcome—but this?

> “Ping! Your bank account has been credited.”

> “Oh, thank you, thank you! If you ever need help with data customization, just call me! I’m the best—affordable, reliable, and honest!”

> “Get lost. I’m running from you, not to you. You think I’m some kind of wallet to be picked clean?”

> “Leaving… wow, the mighty Deep Blue Branch salary vampire, now being bled dry? What a disaster.”

Watching Goen’s sour face, Tian Dao asked, “Hey, why do you care so much about that 100% Win Rate? It’s not even part of your official mission records.”

Goen glared.

“You don’t understand. When you reach my level… you’ll see. Stellar Source development is way more complicated than you think.”

“Oh. So there’s a special condition between second and third rank?”

“Yeah. But I can’t say more. If the association finds out, they’ll call me on it.”

Even as he spoke, Goen stopped mid-step, then turned back.

“Hey… want to join our association? I’ll write you a personal recommendation.”

“Don’t worry about your past. No matter your background—your talent and power? I guarantee you’ll become a top-tier Envoy. With limitless potential.”

Tian Dao smiled and declined.

“No thanks. I don’t need your recommendation.”

“True.”

“Goodbye, you only opponent who ever forced me to draw.”

“Who knows? We might meet again.”

“Yeah? Then that’d be a terrible thing for me.”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end