Chapter Thirty: I Have No Bottom Line!

Phoenix did not like the Serpent Woman.

From the very first glance, she disliked her immensely.

Her attire was far too revealing—a red leather jacket and pants, gaudy and seductively flashy.

Even Tang Fei couldn’t help but steal a few glances at her chest...

Of course, Tang Fei could hardly be blamed.

Who would actually go bare beneath a leather jacket? Even Phoenix herself found her own gaze, laced with disdain and criticism, wandering there a few times... admittedly, there was something to see.

She had lost!

That only made Phoenix all the more displeased. Wasting no words, she gripped her Phoenix Whip in her palm and beckoned to the Serpent Woman with a crook of her finger.

“Come here. Let me give you a taste of my whip.”

So proud! And so delightfully haughty!

As expected, the Serpent Woman was incensed.

She stared at Phoenix with a sly, sinister smile, lips parting in a sneer. “There’s an old saying: a fallen phoenix isn’t worth as much as a chicken. Ever heard it? Once you fall into my hands... heh heh, wait and see how I toy with you.”

Phoenix did not respond, not even sparing the woman the effort of a word.

A woman like this, had she appeared on Newstar, would have been dispatched by the guards long ago.

So the Serpent Woman’s anger only grew.

She drew two serpentine curse-blades from her waist, her body leaping toward Phoenix in a sudden lunge.

The curse-blades, their origins tracing back to pre-Cataclysm Egypt, were crafted with intricate runes drawn by sorcerers, bestowing them with peculiar powers. One strike, and even if the victim survived, they would be haunted by the curse for life. Some went so far as to coat the blades with deadly venom—perfect for killing others or oneself, cruel and convenient.

Upon seeing her opponent’s weapons, Phoenix immediately knew she specialized in close-quarters combat. She transformed her Phoenix Whip into a ten-foot spear and thrust it straight at the Serpent Woman’s chest.

The Serpent Woman’s body was as supple and swift as a snake, twisting midair into complex postures. One curse-blade knocked the spear aside, while the other slashed toward Phoenix’s face.

Are you not the darling of heaven? The moon among the stars? Let me scar your face.

Before I kill you, I’ll ruin your beauty.

The Serpent Woman’s heart seethed with envy toward Phoenix.

Phoenix understood her perfectly—she’d seen too many women eaten up by jealousy over her. And who are you, compared to them?

The long spear instantly contracted, shrinking in her grip to a three-inch dagger.

She raised the short blade to shield her face, sword and knife clashing in a storm of sparks.

Having failed in her first assault, the Serpent Woman attacked with even greater ferocity. Her curse-blades rained down like a violent downpour, each strike desperate and deadly.

She pressed herself ever closer, closing the gap between them, her body coiling with the sinister grace of a snake, seeking to ensnare Phoenix completely.

Phoenix knew she could not allow her opponent to get any closer. If she did, she’d be caught entirely in the Serpent Woman’s rhythm.

As the Serpent Woman lunged at her again, Phoenix’s dagger transformed back into a spear, thrusting once more at her chest, trying to force her back and regain distance.

To her surprise, the Serpent Woman did not retreat but advanced, thrusting out her chest to meet the spear head-on.

“Death wish!” Phoenix snorted coldly.

She refused to believe the woman’s chest was made of iron and could withstand her Phoenix Whip.

With this thought, she poured even more yin and yang energy into the spear, which now hummed with a life of its own, straining to break free.

If you wish to die, I will oblige you.

A mocking smile curled at the Serpent Woman’s lips. Just as the spear was about to pierce her chest, her torso suddenly shifted aside.

Yes, shifted. Abrupt and unnatural.

It was as if you were about to cut off someone’s finger, and it vanished before your very eyes.

We’ve all seen magic tricks where a finger disappears. But a disappearing chest?

This was the Serpent Woman’s “Boneless Technique.” When she invoked it, her bones became as soft as jelly, allowing her to contort her body at will.

She slid along the tip of the spear and crashed into Phoenix’s embrace.

There was no time to withdraw the spear. Phoenix could only watch as the Serpent Woman’s curse-blade arced straight for her throat.

“I told you...” the Serpent Woman licked her long tongue with a taunting smile, hissing like a snake, “once you’re in my hands...”

Bang!

Phoenix struck with her fist, but the Serpent Woman, using the force of the blow, swung around to Phoenix’s back.

Her legs locked around Phoenix’s waist, and her twin blades hacked at Phoenix’s head like a violent storm.

Phoenix was irritated by this “cling like glue” tactic, but she knew: now, more than ever, she needed to stay calm.

The greater the peril, the higher the stakes—the more one must keep a clear, deadly focus.

Only then could she spot her foe’s flaws, find that single thread of survival in a tapestry of death.

Phoenix found her chance.

Her Phoenix Whip, as if guided by instinct, coiled behind her, binding the two curse-blades together, then stretched further to bind the Serpent Woman herself, tight as a dumpling on a festival day.

The more the Serpent Woman struggled, the tighter the whip bit into her flesh, until blood began to ooze from beneath her skin.

With a flick of her wrist, Phoenix hauled the Serpent Woman around to face her.

Looking into her terrified eyes, Phoenix smiled. “Looks like your wish won’t be granted...”

A deft snap of her wrist, and the whip sliced the Serpent Woman into a hundred pieces.

She dissolved into dust, vanishing without a trace.

Clatter!

The two curse-blades dropped to the ground, along with various other items.

The Serpent Woman was dead, leaving a pile of loot in her wake.

------

Tang Fei was a boy of utmost caution and care. On Old Earth, if you weren’t careful, the grass over your grave would grow taller than you.

Faced with that silver bullet, he was on high alert; he held his breath the moment it was fired, careful not to let the silvery light bathe him.

Yet, as careful as one might be in dodging a bullet, it’s almost impossible to perfectly evade wind, rain, and light.

He was sure he’d breathed in none of the powder, but the explosion’s silvery glow had still touched his skin...

Could that alone paralyze someone?

How far had weapon technology advanced on Newstar?

He itched to see it for himself. With his wit, and such weapons in hand... what prey could escape? What beast could elude him?

He would become king of all beasts!

No, no, that was too melodramatic... best to leave such thoughts aside.

For now, the real challenge was the deep blue energy orb called “Time.”

An energy bomb—one blast, and everything in its radius would be caught.

With his current reaction speed, there was almost no room to escape.

If he couldn’t dodge, he’d attack!

Summoning his machete with a thought, Tang Fei swung it directly at the incoming orb.

The machete trembled in his grip, as though it sensed the danger ahead, almost as if bidding its master farewell.

Boom!

The machete struck the energy orb, triggering its detonation in midair before it reached Tang Fei.

The orb vanished, but the machete was blown to pieces in the blast.

That battered machete, companion of many years, sacrificed itself to save its master, brave and resolute.

Tang Fei was hurled away by the explosion, crashing through several saplings before slamming into the trunk of a massive, ancient tree.

Ironically, the impact broke the effect of the “Cage” bullet’s sedative.

That drug had a time limit to begin with, and since Tang Fei had neither breathed nor ingested any of it, he was barely affected.

But in a contest between masters, a window of even 0.001 seconds could be fatal.

Using the momentum from his crash, Tang Fei pushed off the tree trunk with both feet, launching himself toward the Clown.

He could not give his enemy another chance to fire. Who could guess what bullet the Clown might shoot next?

“Here’s another bullet for you...” the Clown howled, his face twisted with malice. “It’s called Hope.”

“Time” won’t give you more time, and “Hope” certainly won’t give you hope.

It exists to harvest hope.

Just when you think you’ve got a chance, it erases everything.

The bullet split into three, then nine, then scattered into countless tiny pellets.

Dense, overwhelming, blocking every avenue of escape.

As Tang Fei soared through the air, he extended his right hand. A blue-green glow shimmered in his palm.

Under its influence, the torrent of bullets froze in midair in a bizarre tableau.

Neither advancing nor falling.

Qi Manipulation!

If you can use qi to control blades, why not bullets?

This was a feat only those in the upper echelons of the Qi Mastery Realm could manage.

Tang Fei thrust his palm forward. Instantly, the countless pellets reversed direction, hurtling toward the Clown.

The Clown hadn’t expected such a countermove. He threw himself to the ground, rolling desperately.

Crack! Bang! Crash!

The bullets whistled overhead, tearing through flowers and grass in a hail of destruction.

As the Clown tried to rise, a sharp dagger pressed against his throat.

“I surrender!” he cried, hands raised, plastering a fawning smile on his face. “You’ve seen my abilities—I could serve you. Tell me what you want done, I’ll do it. Tell me who to kill, I’ll kill them...”

“I’d make a very loyal dog! Want to hear me bark? I do a great dog impression... woof woof woof... what do you think? Convincing, isn’t it?”

“No wonder they call you Clown... truly an apt name,” Tang Fei sighed, at a loss for words.

This Clown was truly insane.

“Right? If you don’t like the name Clown, I could be your puppy instead... How about it? Spare me, and I’ll kill for you, wipe out everyone else... I have no scruples at all...”

“So do I,” Tang Fei replied.

With a swift motion, he thrust the dagger into the Clown’s throat.