warm up?
The ferocious smile on Zhao Kang's face froze at that moment.
His copper bell-like eyes first flashed with a hint of astonishment, and were then swallowed up by surging anger.
It's like a beast showing off its fangs, but the prey casually asked "Are you full?".
This is no longer a provocation, but a disregard, a complete, pure, and heartfelt contempt.
"You are looking for death!"
The two words were squeezed out from Zhao Kang's teeth, with a hoarse sound like metal friction.
He stopped talking nonsense, because any language seemed redundant and ridiculous at this moment.
He suddenly pulled out the huge machete stuck on the ground with one hand. The serrated blade wider than the door panel drew a heavy arc in the air, and the wind pressure it caused could even be felt by the stands dozens of meters away.
He moved.
That burly body burst out at a speed completely inconsistent with its size, and the black soil exploded under its feet. The whole person was like an out-of-control siege beast, charging towards Ningliu.
The serrated scimitar in his hand has no fancy skills at all, it is just the purest and most primitive horizontal slashing.
Before the blade even reaches it, the scream caused by the high-speed friction of the air has already stung people's eardrums.
The ferocious serrations on the blade seemed to come to life, trying to tear everything in its path into pieces.
This is "Crazy Shark" Zhao Kang. His fighting style is just like his name, simple, rough and unreasonable.
He will use absolute power to crush this ignorant boy in front of him, including his sword and his body!
Faced with this earth-shattering blow, Ning Liu finally moved.
He did not retreat, but just took a step to the left. It's such a simple step, but it's so wonderful.
The huge serrated scimitar almost brushed the corner of his clothes, and the violent wind of the knife made his white clothes rustle.
Zhao Kang missed the target, turned his wrist, and used the remaining force of the chop to swing the huge scimitar up, turning into a black moon arc from bottom to top, once again blocking all the space for Ning Liu to dodge.
Fast and coherent.
His strength not only did not become a burden, but turned into terrifying inertia, making every move of his move seamlessly connected.
However, Ning Liu made the same response again.
Another simple side step.
He is like the most precise craftsman, who can always find the only, absolutely safe point in the storm.
His steps were not big and his movements were not fast, but every step he took happened to be in the blind spot of Zhao Kang's attack.
The degenerates in the stands felt their hearts in their throats again.
If Ningliu's "Unmoving Like a Mountain" brought them mystery and oppression before, then the "moving like a rabbit" at this moment is an almost artistic shock.
Zhao Kang's attack was as violent as a sandstorm that swept everything, and Ning Liu was a fallen leaf in the center of the storm. No matter how fierce the wind was, he just moved with the wind, but he was never involved or injured at all.
「Tearing Frenzy!」
The successive attacks were resolved so easily, and Zhao Kang completely fell into a rage.
He roared like a beast, and all his strength exploded without reservation. The serrated scimitar in his hand actually lit up with a dazzling bloody light, and his whole body began to spin at high speed.
For a time, with him as the center, a bloody tornado composed of sword light formed! Countless sharp blades of energy were thrown out by centrifugal force and shot in all directions indiscriminately.
The entire competition venue was instantly enveloped by this storm of death. The ground was cut into criss-crossing ravines, making a harsh sound of "chichi".
"It's the crazy shark's stunt!"
"Look! That kid is cornered!"
"In the face of the "Tearing Frenzy", any dodge is meaningless!"
The discussion in the stands started again, with a kind of morbid excitement.
This is the battle they want to see, this is the blood and madness that the hell killing fields should have.
In the storm of sword energy, Ning Liu's figure became blurred.
In the corner, the man with the scar on his chin flushed with excitement:
"Did you see it! This is the power of a range attack! No matter how weird the kid's body skills are, he can't evade the 360-degree attack with no blind angle! He is dead!"
The moment the voice fell, a sudden change occurred in the field.
The raging bloody sword energy storm suddenly stopped.
Immediately afterwards, a clear sword sound seemed to penetrate through the layers of noise, ringing clearly in everyone's ears.
A white light lit up from the center of the storm.
It was not a dazzling light, but a soft, pure white that seemed to be able to wash away all dirt.
The next moment, the white light suddenly surged, turning into a sword shadow that reached the sky and the earth, and slashed out from the inside of the bloody tornado!
The sound was like a piece of cloth being torn apart by a sharp knife.
The rotating, violent, and arrogant bloody storm was like a punctured balloon, instantly stagnant and disintegrating. The sword energy all over the sky dissipated into nothingness.
Zhao Kang's figure reappeared.
He still maintained the spinning posture, with the huge scimitar still raised in the air, and the expression on his face was arrogant and ferocious at its peak.
The whole place was dead silent.
Everyone held their breath, not understanding what was happening.
Ning Liu's figure appeared three steps behind Zhao Kang. He slowly sheathed his sword, but his white clothes remained spotless. He didn't even look back.
Zhao Kang's body stood stiffly.
One second.
Two seconds.
「Click.」
A soft sound.
A very thin line of blood appeared from the center of Zhao Kang's eyebrows, extending straight downward, passing through the bridge of his nose, lips, chin, neck... and all the way to his lower abdomen.
Immediately afterwards, his burly body, like a precisely cut work of art, slowly separated to both sides along the blood line.
The incision was as smooth as a mirror. At the moment when the blood and internal organs were separated, they lost their restraints and made a "crash" sound, pouring all over the ground.
The man who calls himself a "wise general", the "crazy shark" with a record of seventy-two consecutive victories, the monster who was talking nonsense just now, was neatly divided into two halves.
The expression on his face, until the moment when his body fell, still maintained the arrogance of his life. He didn't even know how he died.
In the stands, there were tens of thousands of degenerates, as if they had been collectively cast into a body-fixing spell.
The man with the scar on his chin opened his mouth, and the words "He is dead" that he had just shouted were still echoing in his ears. At this moment, he was acting like a fool. The expression on his face changed from enthusiasm to shock, then to sluggishness, and finally turned completely blank.
The "tactical analysis" he was so proud of turned into a complete joke in the face of absolute strength.
High-rise stands.
His previous words seemed to be making a final conclusion: "If you talk too much, you will die quickly."
In the dead silence, the host's voice sounded again, still emotionless, but it seemed to bring an end to this absurd farce.
"The challenger is dead. The winner, 9527."
"If there is no new challenger within ten breaths, 9527 will directly accumulate another victory."
This time, the atmosphere was completely different.
If during the first countdown, people were still looking forward to a strong player coming out to end this newcomer;
During the second countdown, people were still excited about the tactics of "Crazy Shark".
So this third time, there was only a cold dead silence in everyone's hearts.
The host’s voice was like a death knell.
Everyone's eyes subconsciously turned to the front row of the stands again.
Those truly strong, those monsters who have won eighty, ninety, or even close to a hundred games in a row.
The smile on the face of a skinny old man who was very interested before has long since disappeared, replaced by an unprecedented seriousness.
A man whose body was covered with bandages, with only one pair of eyes exposed. The arms that were originally held in front of his chest had been put down at some point, and his palms were gently pressed on the handle of the knife at his waist.
There was also a strong man who had been closing his eyes to rest. At this moment, he also opened his eyes. In his pupils, he reflected the lonely figure in white in the field. His eyes were complicated, with fighting intent, but more of fear.
Eight.
No one spoke.
Zhao Kang's death had a huge impact on them. It was not an evenly matched fight, nor was it a thrilling counterattack. It was a... teaching.
Ning Liu used the most expressive way to tell everyone that strength, speed, and skills are meaningless in the face of the absolute gap in realm.
The entire hell killing field was eerily quiet. The eyes of tens of thousands of people are focused on the same person.
And that person just stood there, as if he had just finished an insignificant thing.
He didn't even look at the strong men who were shocked by him, nor did he pay attention to the looks around him.
He just raised his hand again and gently wiped the hilt of the Shura Demonic Sword with his sleeve. There was nothing contaminated there.
Four."
Three."
Two."
Wait!"