Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Cage and Time
Tang Fei and Phoenix found themselves facing off against the Clown and the Snake Woman.
Tang Fei was matched with the Clown, Phoenix with the Snake Woman.
Just from their names, Tang Fei and Phoenix seemed destined to win. Their appearance only reinforced that impression.
Yet, the Snake Woman’s gaze lingered on Tang Fei’s face. Dissatisfied with the current arrangement, she spoke in a seductive voice to the Clown, “This young man is so handsome, so intriguing... I really like him. Why don’t you let me take him on? Aren’t you craving Phoenix soup? I’ll leave her to you.”
The Clown glanced at Phoenix, his eyes flashing with greedy, lascivious desire, but then he shook his head and refused, saying, “I like him too. I’d love to have a proper exchange with him.”
The intelligence they’d received indicated Phoenix was already a master of the Qi Control realm, but to the Clown, this Tang Fei was even more formidable.
He knew well that unless he dealt with Tang Fei, he’d never get his Phoenix soup. He dared not entrust Tang Fei to the Snake Woman.
That woman was hopelessly romantic—if, in the heat of battle, she decided to have a “love battle,” she might just lose her head to a single stroke.
The Snake Woman seemed wary of the Clown and said helplessly, “Fine, I’ll keep an eye on this little Phoenix for now. Hurry up—if you take too long, I’ll start without you.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to wait long,” the Clown chuckled.
He noticed Tang Fei was smiling at him and asked, “What are you laughing at?”
“I’m laughing at how ugly you are,” Tang Fei replied honestly.
“Hahaha... I am ugly, indeed,”
The Clown burst out laughing, then suddenly raised his hand and pulled the trigger at Tang Fei’s head.
Somehow, a vintage double-barreled pistol had appeared in his hand, both barrels unleashing deep blue energy rounds simultaneously.
Tang Fei dared not take the attack head-on; he dodged to the side.
Bang!
The spot where Tang Fei had stood was now a pit over a meter deep.
As expected, the weapons sourced from the Nova were frighteningly powerful.
The Clown laughed madly, firing at Tang Fei in a frenzy, shouting, “Don’t run... come play with me...”
“My ugly face... don’t you think it’s fun?”
“Come out... come out...”
Tang Fei surged forward, using a sturdy tree trunk as leverage to leap high, spinning three hundred and sixty degrees before doubling back, slashing at the Clown’s head with his machete.
The Clown grinned, unmoving, and pulled the trigger at Tang Fei.
It was a mutual destruction tactic!
If Tang Fei’s machete severed the Clown’s head, his own body would likely be blown apart by the energy gun.
“Maniac!”
Tang Fei cried out, twisting midair to dodge the Clown’s bullet, forfeiting his chance to finish the Clown.
“Come on, what are you afraid of?” the Clown laughed maniacally, shouting at Tang Fei, “Dying together... isn’t it grand?”
“I fear death,” Tang Fei replied, “but even more so, I fear dying with you.”
“In that case, you can die alone,” the Clown said, his laughter fading, becoming serious—and even uglier.
He aimed the double-barreled gun at Tang Fei’s head and pulled the trigger hard.
Whoosh!
From the left barrel shot another deep blue energy bullet, whose power Tang Fei already knew—it could blast a person to pulp.
Bang!
The Clown fired again.
From the right barrel emerged an ancient bullet, silver and engraved with intricate patterns.
---
The silver bullet, fired second, somehow overtook the blue energy round, exploding just as it was about to pierce Tang Fei’s body.
Silver light washed over the area, moonlike, enveloping a radius of five hundred meters around Tang Fei.
Tang Fei tried to escape, but the scope of the light was immense—there was no way to evade it in an instant.
He held his breath, daring not to inhale any gas or substance.
He didn’t know what kind of bullet the Clown had used, but for it to be fired now, and to explode before even touching him...
It couldn’t be anything good!
More deadly still, the energy round arrived right on time, heading straight for Tang Fei.
He tried to dodge, but his body wouldn’t respond—it was frozen.
A cruel smile appeared on the Clown’s lips as he explained, “The silver bullet is called ‘Cage.’ The blue bullet is ‘Time.’”
The Cage restricts freedom, and Time... stops yours.
---
Shanhe faced a skinny, bird-faced old man, and asked irritably, “And who are you?”
His earlier attempt at a deadly strike against Tang Fei had failed, and he was simmering with frustration.
If Tang Fei didn’t die, he couldn’t wash away his previous humiliation.
He’d hoped for a three-hundred-round epic with Tang Fei, but now Tang Fei was off fighting the Clown, and an obscure old man stood before him, smiling slyly.
How repulsive!
“You’re from the Palace of Serenity, aren’t you?” The old man looked up at the sky and greeted Shanhe with a cheerful smile.
Shanhe’s heart trembled, and he asked curiously, “You know the Palace of Serenity?”
“Take money, remove calamity. With Serenity, there’s no enmity. Isn’t that how the Palace of Serenity came to be?” The old man casually recited the origin of the name.
“It’s not surprising that people from Nova know the Palace of Serenity. But how would an old native like you know of it?” Shanhe studied the old man, asking, “Have you been to Nova?”
“Nova?” The old man waved dismissively. “Why would I go there? A place where people eat people—I’d never.”
The more the old man denied it, the more convinced Shanhe became. He said coldly, “Looks like we really misjudged this time. We thought we were just here to hunt a little bird, but instead we found one tough opponent after another...”
Shanhe regretted it bitterly.
The intelligence said the little bird had been badly wounded and escaped in a pod; they tracked its trajectory and finally pinpointed the landing in the Hate Mountain region.
They thought it would be simple, quick work—finish the job and collect the bounty—but so many complications arose.
He couldn’t fathom it: the bird had just arrived in the Old Land, with no guards—where did all these experts come from?
He cast a resentful glance at Tang Fei not far away and said, “That kid’s not weak—so young, and already in the Qi Control realm. Even on Nova, he’d be rare... And you? What’s your story?”
“If you’re curious, why not try me?” The old man waved his hand with easy grace, exuding an unusual sense of mastery. “I’m here to fight, not play chess.”
“Fine. I’ll finish you first, then deal with the others.”
The old man chuckled, “People who talk like that usually end up dead.”
Shanhe stopped talking.
Villains die from talking too much. I’m a villain—I mustn’t say more.
Shanhe’s fists ignited with blazing fire, his pupils turning blood-red.
He hovered in the air, then swooped down toward the old man’s position.
He punched, red light flashed.
Boom...
A pit appeared where the old man had stood, but he had already slipped away with agile footwork.
Shanhe’s assault didn’t pause; he’d locked onto the old man’s energy and followed closely, punching at his back.
Crack...
A thick tree was pulverized by his blow.
Another miss, and Shanhe’s ferocity was fully unleashed.
---
He punched relentlessly, each fist like a solid hammer chasing the old man’s spine.
The old man circled him, darting, leaping, soaring, sometimes suddenly appearing behind Shanhe to pat his shoulder.
Shanhe grew angrier, feeling mocked.
He pushed his “Thousand Corpse Transformation” to its peak—not just blood-red eyes and flaming fists, but his entire body wrapped in red flames.
He became a red cannonball, hurtling toward the old man, his massive fist thundering for the old man’s head.
Thousand Corpses Reborn!
The more intense the flames, the stronger the poisonous energy.
A touch meant death, a brush meant injury.
Even a mere graze from the cold poison could freeze the skin.
Strangely, the old man, who had always avoided direct confrontation, now stopped and faced the charging Shanhe, saying solemnly, “To have mastered such a vicious skill... you must have killed many.”
As he spoke, he extended his hand.
Yes, just casually extended his right hand.
Withered, yellow, ordinary right hand.
Then Shanhe’s massive, flaming fist landed in his hand.
A strange sensation.
It looked as if a child’s hand had caught an adult’s fist.
Yet the small hand’s color and texture were so aged, like dried wood about to rot.
Suddenly, Shanhe was immobilized.
He couldn’t withdraw his fist, and his strength seemed to drain away.
His pupils dilated in disbelief as he stared at the old man, at the hand gripping his fist.
What kind of skill was this? What magic had he used?
“I wanted to see if Nova’s martial arts had improved, but it seems not... All sorts of misfits have emerged,”
The old man sighed lightly. “You can’t be allowed to remain.”
As he spoke, the hand gripping Shanhe’s fist squeezed gently.
Boom...
The red flames on Shanhe’s body surged several feet high, as if someone had poured a barrel of gasoline onto a bonfire.
To kill the old man, he had already pushed his internal yin-yang energy to its limit.
With the old man’s reinforcement, his yin-yang energy reached a critical point, ready to explode.
The flames burned fiercely, but this time they hurt no one else—only Shanhe himself.
Unable to withstand the potent poison, he screamed and howled, writhing on the ground like a clown.
Soon, his body ceased moving.
He lay in the mud, silent.
He had trained this evil skill with phosphorus fire, and ultimately perished beneath it.
A bitter irony, greater than being beheaded with the golden tower in his hand by Tang Fei.
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