Stronger with More Jobs-Chapter 419 - 225: An Unexpected Process, The Formation of the First Special Squad!

Chapter 419: Chapter 225: An Unexpected Process, The Formation of the First Special Squad!

"Bang!!!"

He slammed hard against the barrier!

The golden light dispersed, the protective Qi Force completely shattered!

Tie Shan’s massive body slid slowly against the barrier, his arms hung limply, evidently fractured. His chest heaved violently, blood continuously spilled from his mouth, his gaze was vacant, completely losing his combat abilities.

Silence.

Dead silence.

This time, even the sound of swallowing disappeared.

Everyone, including the giants on the high platform, could only look numbly.

Watching Fang Qingyu calmly retract his fist.

Watching the referee announce in a voice as dry as possible: "Table D, number four, the winner is Fang Qingyu."

Watching Fang Qingyu stroll back to his seat as if taking a leisurely walk.

Crushing.

An undeniably crushing victory.

Power?

In the face of absolute power, what’s called the strongest defense is just a thin piece of paper.

Next, the draw for the quarterfinals.

"Table E, number two, Dragon Abyss Pavilion’s Fang Qingyu, versus, Wind Thunder Temple’s Zhou Yan!"

Zhou Yan, Divine Chosen with Wind and Thunder Dual Ability, his Wind and Thunder Attraction Technique is swift and violent, he once used thunderous methods to defeat several strong enemies.

When the matchup information appeared.

Zhou Yan’s face instantly turned pale.

Instinctively, he glanced at that unfinished bloodstain in area A, number one, and then at Tie Shan, who had just been carried away with both arms broken.

A chill instantly froze his limbs and bones.

Battle?

What to use for the battle?

The opponent’s pure and unreasonable power could even blow away the Silent Annihilation Sword Aura and the Golden Body with just one punch!

Can his Wind Thunder be faster than his fist?

Can it be more fierce than his power?

If he took it head-on, the outcome would be even more miserable than Jing Wuya and Tie Shan!

Either dead or crippled!

And his goal was to compete for a slot in the special squad member!

Once severely injured here, he wouldn’t even have the qualification to compete later!

Immense fear and rationality instantly crushed that pitiful fighting spirit.

Just as the referee was about to announce both parties to enter the field.

Zhou Yan suddenly stood up, his voice carried an imperceptible tremor, yet it spread clearly across the court:

"Referee! I concede!"

Wow—!

Although anticipated, when Zhou Yan’s "concede" truly rang out, it still caused a low murmur.

The dignified genius of Wind Thunder Temple, a Tier Two Divine Chosen, afraid to fight and voluntarily conceded!

In the past, this would have been an utter humiliation!

But at this moment, no one laughed at him.

Numerous gazes looked at Zhou Yan, filled with understanding, and even... a bit of relief.

"A wise choice..."

"If it were me, I’d also concede. Fighting that kind of monster isn’t a match, it’s suicide!"

"Preserve his state, there are still opportunities to fight for the other two slots later!"

"Indeed, it’s not worth it..."

On the high platform, Master Xuan Cheng slightly nodded, showing no displeasure.

This wasn’t cowardice, but a clear understanding and choice in the face of absolute power.

"Table E, number two, Wind Thunder Temple’s Zhou Yan concedes! Winner, Fang Qingyu!" the referee immediately announced.

Fang Qingyu didn’t even make the effort to stand up, he just calmly nodded.

This voice of concession seemed like it opened Pandora’s box.

Next was the draw for the semifinals.

"Table A, number one, Dragon Abyss Pavilion’s Fang Qingyu versus Nine Nether Pavilion’s Yin Wujiu!"

Yin Wujiu, skilled in assassination and speed, with a mysterious presence, he was a dangerous individual... narrowly making it to the top eight.

The moment he saw the opponent’s name.

Yin Wujiu’s face turned ten times uglier than Zhou Yan’s.

His strongest Escape Technique was like child’s play in front of Fang Qingyu.

He didn’t have the slightest bit of hope!

"Referee! I concede!"

Yin Wujiu rushed to shout before the referee could speak, his voice quick and urgent, fearing if he hesitated, he’d be dragged onto the stage.

"Table A, number one, Yin Wujiu concedes! Winner, Fang Qingyu!"

The referee’s voice now carried a hint of numbness.

The entire Celestial Stage’s atmosphere became overwhelmingly bizarre.

Reverence remained, but there was more of an inevitable numbness.

Fang Qingyu, this name seemed to have equated to "invincible."

Drawing him meant conceding, becoming the most reasonable, wise, and even most "graceful" choice.

When the finals draw result appeared, no one cared anymore who the opponent was.

Because the result was without suspense.

"Table B, number one, Dragon Abyss Pavilion’s Fang Qingyu versus Shikong!"

Shikong, this stalwart Martial Monk with rage-eyed Vajra appearance, had an aura as heavy as a mountain, had shown incredibly powerful melee combat ability on his way through.

He was the only one, after the draw result came out, who did not concede immediately.

Shikong slowly stood up, like a towering iron tower, under his knotted muscles, golden light flowed.

His gaze was intensely serious, yet still burned with the intense battle intent belonging to a Martial Artist!

He stared intently at the Dragon Abyss Pavilion’s seat where Fang Qingyu sat, both fists clenched tightly, aura condensed and heavy, like a volcano about to erupt.

Shikong was struggling!

Weighing the options!

As a successor of the Buddhist Guardian Vajra lineage, his pride did not allow him to surrender without a fight!

He desired to battle a true strongman, to test his Immovable Golden Body!

However, rationality was screaming wildly.

It can’t be blocked! That punch... simply can’t be blocked!

The outcome of taking it head-on would be even more miserable than Tie Shan!

In this extreme struggle and silence.

The entire Celestial Stage’s focus was on him, the atmosphere oppressive to the point of suffocation.

The veins on Shikong’s forehead pulsed, sweat running down his bronze bald head.

Ultimately, the mountain-like battle intent, like a punctured balloon, quickly dissipated.

The flame in his eyes extinguished, leaving only deep exhaustion and a trace of... relief?

He slowly released his tightly gripped fist, bowed his head with difficulty towards the referee, his voice hoarse and low, yet clearly spreading across the whole court: