Chapter Twenty-Two: A Savage Beating

Moreover, aside from everything else, Yang Fei Kuang, the Lord of Thunder, was perplexed by another matter. According to the original information, this Chopstick Demon was supposed to be a lone wanderer with the heart of a hero.

Such righteous lone wanderers were, in fact, the easiest adversaries to deal with in the martial world.

But! A solitary hero could not possibly possess such remarkable, futuristic equipment. Therefore, behind the Chopstick Demon, there must be a high-tech group supporting him. With this realization, dealing with the Chopstick Demon became much more complicated.

Yang Fei Kuang, the Lord of Thunder, despite his formidable nickname, was essentially a bully who preyed on the weak and feared the strong. After being kicked in the groin by Tong Fairy of the West Lake Sect, he dared not seek revenge in the Yangtze Delta, instead withdrawing to the Pearl River area and targeting vulnerable youths.

Now, seeing that the Chopstick Demon might have a powerful high-tech group behind him, even Yang Fei Kuang felt a surge of uncertainty in his heart.

Of course, he was a seasoned veteran, battle-hardened; even if he felt uneasy, his blade did not falter. Another arc of lightning flashed from his sword, slicing through the air with astonishing speed, aiming straight at Shen Ye. His sword crackled with a thousand volts of electricity. This strike was intended to avoid the Chopstick Demon’s gauntlets and target his body instead.

Truth be told, the Chopstick Demon’s true strength lay in that pair of ancient, era-defining gauntlets.

If any other part of his body were struck by the blade of lightning, he would instantly succumb; under a thousand volts, he would likely lose the ability to resist immediately.

Shen Ye revealed his gauntlets for the first time. The gauntlets themselves possessed formidable powers, so he faced his opponent without fear.

His right fist crashed directly into Yang Fei Kuang’s blade of lightning.

Boom!

The blade was knocked back with a resounding clang.

In this contest of strength, Shen Ye, empowered by his gauntlets, gained the upper hand.

Shen Ye was also quietly calculating: “My greatest advantage against Yang Fei Kuang is the sheer force I can unleash, which surpasses his. My defense, my constitution—these should also be superior. But how do I convert these advantages into victory? Wait, I have another edge.”

“The opponent wields only one blade, but I have two gauntlets. When he attacks, I just need to lock his lightning blade with one hand, then strike with the other.”

Sometimes, fighting doesn’t require abstruse techniques.

All that’s needed is the solid force of fists and feet.

For example, the art of drawing the sword sacrifices all intricate moves—a single, decisive slash is enough.

Now, Yang Fei Kuang’s lightning blade once again slashed forward.

Shen Ye deliberately feigned to throw his right fist, as if preparing to clash with the blade.

The blade and gauntlet drew closer and closer. When they were only two centimeters apart, Shen Ye suddenly turned his fist into a claw, reaching directly for the lightning blade.

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In truth, this was extremely difficult. It’s simple: the structure of the human body dictates that the palm has less force than the fist. If the opponent’s strength is equal, using the palm weakens the force and cannot withstand the impact of a blade; capturing the weapon would be humiliating and futile.

However, Shen Ye, after two exchanges, knew his strength—enhanced by the gauntlets—surpassed the Lord of Thunder. So he acted boldly and confidently.

Yang Fei Kuang was startled by Shen Ye’s sudden change, but his blade was already within Shen Ye’s grasp—too late to alter the move. He tried to yank the lightning blade back with force, but Shen Ye’s grip matched his own; the blade would not budge.

In a flash, Shen Ye shifted his body, dodging the blade’s edge. His left fist, transformed into a thunderous blow, drove straight forward.

A punch to Yang Fei Kuang!

Facing the direct punch from Shen Ye’s left fist, Yang Fei Kuang paused. He had two choices: abandon the lightning blade and retreat, changing tactics. But all his skills were tied to the blade; without it, he was no match for the Chopstick Demon. The second choice was to use his left fist against Shen Ye’s left, but his skill lay in swordplay, not fist fighting.

Moreover, Shen Ye’s left fist was almost upon him—barely any time to react.

Forced, Yang Fei Kuang chose the second option, launching his left fist to meet Shen Ye’s.

Boom!

The fists collided, and Yang Fei Kuang’s left hand was sent flying, pain shooting through his left shoulder!

Shen Ye followed with a second punch, faster and fiercer than the first.

At that moment, Yang Fei Kuang’s left fist had not recovered; he couldn’t block this attack.

He tried to dodge, but his right hand, still gripping the blade, was trapped by Shen Ye; he had nowhere to retreat.

Boom!

The punch landed squarely on Yang Fei Kuang’s face.

It shattered several of his teeth, blood streaming from his nose, mouth, and the corners of his eyes; Yang Fei Kuang’s head spun, leaving him no time to think.

Shen Ye showed no mercy, unleashing another blow.

Seizing the momentum!

Strike while the enemy is weakened—finish him!

Yang Fei Kuang, a seasoned fighter, realized things were wrong; now, he could only abandon his blade and retreat.

He withdrew helplessly.

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The lightning blade fell into Shen Ye’s hands.

Shen Ye’s instincts in battle were exceptionally sharp; at this moment, he discarded the blade, let out a tiger’s roar, and stomped forward, pursuing Yang Fei Kuang with both fists, tiger force unleashed.

Yang Fei Kuang, dropping his blade, knew he had lost the fight. At that instant he had an idea: abandon the blade—since the lightning blade was a powerful weapon, the Chopstick Demon would surely seize it, buying him a moment.

He intended to use this brief window to approach the girl lying on the bed—her name was Lin Xiaolei, wasn’t it?

The Chopstick Demon fancied himself a hero; such people always had a chivalrous heart.

If only he could capture Lin Xiaolei, he could threaten the Chopstick Demon with her life.

No matter what, he could escape with his own life.

Perhaps the Chopstick Demon was one of those foolish heroes; if he demanded the hero cut off his own hand, the man would do it without hesitation.

Then, he could turn defeat into victory.

But he hadn’t anticipated that Shen Ye, without a pause, pounced straight at him, ruining his plan entirely.

He saw the fists, as large as urns, bearing down with unstoppable might.

Yang Fei Kuang, weaponless, could only raise his own fists in defense.

But he stood no chance!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Shen Ye unleashed a volley of punches, shattering Yang Fei Kuang’s defenses, then hammered him with heavy blows to the head—a string of punches left Yang Fei Kuang battered and bleeding, his injuries grave.

Yang Fei Kuang lay in the corner like a pile of broken mud, blood covering his head and body, his face swollen like a pig’s head, teeth almost all knocked out.

He spat blood, his heart filled only with endless terror. After years of roaming the martial world, he had believed he could easily kill the Chopstick Demon, but now he had fallen at Shen Ye’s hands. His eyes darted left and right, desperate for some way to escape.