Chapter 3886 — The Challenger Tournament Concludes

This time, Wei Zhao had given her a thorough and unmistakable lesson. However bitterly she might nurse her grudge at heart, at least for the moment she did not dare provoke Wei Zhao again.

Seeing that Murong Zhen intended to leave the arena early, Qiao Hongcai could not resist the urge to leap out and challenge her. He was no gentleman, and he knew nothing of tender mercy toward the fairer sex; having been forced to concede defeat of his own accord earlier, he had been stewing in a bellyful of resentment, and now that a chance to trample her back had come, he was not about to let it slip!

But Wei Zhao reached out a hand and stopped him.

It was not that Wei Zhao had gone soft and meant to let the woman off. Rather, he knew full well that in the fight just now, he had not drained Murong Zhen of all her physical strength and true qi, nor had he inflicted any serious injury upon her—he had merely made her leave the stage in disgrace. If Qiao Hongcai were to challenge her at this moment, the outcome would still be more disaster than fortune; better to simply show a little magnanimity.

Since Wei Zhao had spoken, Qiao Hongcai naturally would not defy him. But this was already the final round of the newcomers' challenger tournament, and above him there remained only Murong Zhen and their own leader Wei Zhao—neither of whom he could challenge. His hands were simply itching with idleness.

After holding himself in for a good long while, Qiao Hongcai's gaze finally settled on Meng Zhou, and he flung out a taunt: "Great newcomer Meng, since we are both idle with nothing to do, how about you and I have a bout? This is the final round, and my rank is higher than yours, so I cannot challenge you first—but surely a fellow like you isn't also holding back, afraid to challenge me? Or have those two earlier matches against a piece of trash like me scared you out of it?"

The moment the words left his mouth, the whole crowd—still sunk in the shock of watching Wei Zhao slap Murong Zhen off the stage, unable to pull themselves free—instantly perked up with interest again.

Over here Wei Zhao had just finished with Murong Zhen, and in the blink of an eye Qiao Hongcai was off provoking Meng Zhou. Worthy indeed of the final round of the newcomers' challenger tournament—what a feast of spectacle!

In full view of everyone, to be taunted like this by the trash Qiao whom he despised—with Meng Zhou's hot temper, it was of course unbearable: "Damn you to hell. If it were Wei Zhao saying such a thing, fine, but a mere underling of a piece of trash like you dares to provoke this lord? Who the hell do you think you are! You want me to challenge you, do you? Fine! This lord will oblige you, and today I'll let you die with your eyes open!"

Without waiting for Meng Jueming to speak, Meng Zhou sprang up onto the platform of his own accord and, with a cold sneer, crooked a finger at Qiao Hongcai.

Had Murong Zhen not been in the picture, according to Meng Jueming's original plan, he had intended in this final round to have Meng Zhou take the Midnight Heart-Splitting Pill, raise his strength to the peak of early Foundation Establishment, and then step forward to challenge Wei Zhao.

But now, because Murong Zhen had appeared on the scene, Meng Zhou was in no hurry; after all, letting that woman Murong Zhen spearhead the assault on Wei Zhao would not cost him a single scrap of flesh, so at this moment his strength remained merely early Foundation Establishment.

Had the one issuing the challenge now been Wei Zhao, that freak who had just unleashed such awesome power, Meng Zhou would truly have lacked the nerve to step onto the stage. But his opponent was nothing more than a piece of trash named Qiao, who had merely gotten lucky and survived their last two encounters—what the hell did you have to be so cocky about!

"One jab and he bites every time. This thing really is a nice obedient straw sack." Qiao Hongcai chuckled, rolled up his sleeves, and strode onto the platform.

The whole arena instantly boiled over. Every time these two clashed it was bloody and brutal as hell—today really was one good show after another!

"If you have any last words, spit them out quick. Save people saying this lord is heartless—if I just up and kill you later, they'll claim I didn't even let a man leave a final sentence." Meng Zhou sneered, looking down on him with utter contempt.

Though he had not yet taken the Midnight Heart-Splitting Pill, over the past stretch Meng Jueming, in order to let him withstand the pill's powerful medicinal force one hundred percent, had specially procured a great many auxiliary pills for him to nourish and warm his body.

So even though Meng Zhou was not yet at the peak of early Foundation Establishment, his condition was better than ever before. Against Wei Zhao he had no hope of victory, but against a mere piece of trash like Qiao, he did not take him seriously at all.

But at these words Qiao Hongcai looked at him as though at an idiot: "Aren't you going to leave any last words yourself? Beaten like a dead dog two matches running—I'm rather curious where you get this confidence. From that look on your face, you've taken some medicine, haven't you? Or did you take the wrong medicine?"

"Hmph! Sharp tongue!" Meng Zhou snorted coldly and struck out in fury. From first to last he had always placed himself on equal footing with Wei Zhao, and naturally disdained to waste breath on a petty figure like Qiao Hongcai; even though their last two bouts had ended in mutual ruin, Qiao Hongcai still did not enter his discerning eye.

Feeling the force behind Meng Zhou's leg, Qiao Hongcai was slightly taken aback: "Your strength's a bit greater than before—but I haven't been idle these past two months either!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A succession of dull, heavy thuds as fist and foot struck flesh—Qiao Hongcai and Meng Zhou's desperate grapple was as savage and bloody as ever. They knew each other far too well; there were no tricks, only pure hard clash against hard!

Half an incense stick's time later, before the dumbstruck eyes of everyone present, Meng Zhou was flung off the platform by Qiao Hongcai like a dead dog. Though Qiao Hongcai himself was in such a sorry state he could barely stand, this time there was no doubt about it—Qiao Hongcai had won!

"Mother of hell!" Meng Jueming's eyeballs nearly bulged out of his head. When Meng Zhou had been goaded onto the stage earlier, he had already sensed something was wrong; but the fellow's head was full of mush, and before he could move to stop him, Meng Zhou had already fallen for the trick and climbed up.

Now look at this mess—more than a month of pill-based conditioning all wasted. To have Meng Zhou take the Midnight Heart-Splitting Pill, the preparations would have to start all over again. This thing was truly a hopeless case beyond all propping up!

But seeing Qiao Hongcai manage a hard-won victory over Meng Zhou only further confirmed Meng Jueming's earlier conjecture: Wei Zhao's gang must have taken the Limit Golden Pill—not only Wei Zhao himself, but this Qiao Hongcai fellow as well. Otherwise, given his enormous disadvantage in martial skill, there was simply no way he could have defeated a Meng Zhou in peak condition!

Little did he know that this hard-won victory over Meng Zhou was entirely the fruit of Qiao Hongcai's two months of desperate, bitter cultivation. Heaven rewards diligence—not everyone was willing to spend all twelve double-hours of the day, day and night, on cultivation the way Qiao Hongcai did.