Everyone could see it.
The Tiger Group''s outer disciple staggered backward, his face smashed t by the iron wok that had just collided with it.
Blood poured from his mouth. His two front teeth were gone. Completely gone.
He swayed for half a second, eyes unfocused, then copsed onto the stone tform in a heap—humiliated, broken, ugly in defeat.
A ripple of shock ran through the crowd.
Eight Fatty didn''t hesitate. He stomped onto the tform, grabbed the fallen disciple by the cor, and dragged him across the stone like a sack of trash. The man''s heels scraped uselessly against the ground.
With a final grunt, Eight Fatty hurled him off the edge of the tform. The body rolled andnded hard at the feet of the Tiger Group.
"Take your useless disciple back,” Eight Fatty barked.
"You-!" The injured Tiger Group disciple tried to rise, fury zing in his bloodshot eyes.
“What?” Eight Fatty shot back, folding his arms. His voice boomed across the square. “This tform is sacred. If you can''t ept that you''re a loser, then send someone up here and prove me wrong. If you still can''t win, then shut your mouth."
He leaned forward, sneering.
"Or what? You think Wudang Sect teaches people to fight with their mouths? With empty words?"
The insult hit like a p.
"Fight me!"
A figure leapt onto the tform in a clean arc,nding with steady precision. His robes fluttered before settling against his tall frame.
"I don''t care what tricks you''re using,” the man said coldly. "You will die on my sword."
The crowd exploded.
"It''s Lie Zun!"
"The Top Five of the Dragon Group!"
"He''s been an outer disciple for nearly forty years!"
"That kitchen servant is dead!"
Excitement surged like wildfire. Voices rose. Bets shifted. Eyes gleamed with greed.
And above all the noise, one voice roared louder than the rest.
Eight Fatty.
"Oh no! Oh no!" he shouted dramatically, clutching his head as if in despair. "The Dragon Group has unleashed one of their Five Dragons! Our Number Nine is in grave danger!"
He paused—just long enough.
Then his tone flipped.
"Come on! Hurry! Bet your precious items now! Twenty times the return! If you win this round, you can recover everything you lost before!”
The other fatties on the tform joined him, shouting at the top of their lungs.
"Number Nine will lose this time! Don''t miss your chance!"
“Look at these treasures! They could all be yours!"
Everyone knew the fatties were manipting them.
They knew.
But greed was a louder voice than reason.
Twenty times.
The number echoed in their minds like a curse.
One by one, disciples stepped forward, hands trembling as they ced their
precious items onto the betting table. Rings. Pills. Spirit stones. Weapons. Family heirlooms.
Some hesitated.
Some swallowed hard.
But they still bet.
Alex stood quietly at the center of the tform, watching the growing pile of
treasures. He scanned the crowd carefully.
More and more people were hesitating now.
The earlier frenzy was fading.
Doubt was creeping in.
If this continued, the betting momentum would die.
He couldn''t let that happen.
Alex lowered his voice.
"Gaia," he said calmly, without moving his lips too much. "I have an idea."
"I, Lie Zun, will kill you!" the Dragon group outer disciple roared.
He lunged forward the instant the words left his mouth. His sword shed in a clean silver arc, sharp and precise.
Alex barely reacted in time. The de sliced through the air-and through fabric. Cloth tore. A strip of his sleeve fluttered to the ground.
A roar burst from the crowd.
"This time the kitchen servant will lose!"
Lie Zun didn''t slow down. He advanced like a storm breaking loose. One cut. Two.
Four. Five. Each strike was clean, ruthless, calcted to kill.
The sword light wrapped around Alex from every angle.
Gasps rippled through the spectators.
The de came so close it shaved threads from Alex''s robe. Cloth split again and again but never flesh.
People held their breath. No one blinked.
Lie Zun''s face flushed deep red, anger swelling in his veins. "You!" he snapped. "How long do you n to run like a coward?"
Alex didn''t answer.
Instead, as he stepped back, he flicked his foot. A small stone chipped loose from
the tform''s edge. It skidded across the surface to a precise spot-exactly where Gaia had predicted.
Lie Zun inhaled sharply andunched forward again.
"Wudang Thirteen Steps!"
His movement technique exploded into motion. His body blurred. His right foot came down-
On the stone.
It was only half a second.
But half a second was enough.
His bnce shifted. His weight tilted.
And in the next heartbeat-
Bang.
The iron wok mmed into his face like a falling hammer.
The sound rang across the square.
Lie Zun''s vision shattered into white light. Before he could recover, Alex followed
through, the iron wok crashing down again with brutal force.
Lie Zun hit the ground hard.
Silence.
Then the square erupted.
"That''s cheating!"
“He slipped on a stone!"
"That doesn''t count!"
"He won by luck! If not, he''d already be dead!"
The protests rolled like thunder.
Before anyone could escte further, the First Fatty jumped onto the tform. Without ceremony, he grabbed Lie Zun by the leg and dragged him toward the
edge.
"A loss is a loss!" he shouted, voice booming. "Why are you barking like stray
dogs?"
With a grunt, he flung Lie Zun off the tform toward the Dragon Group.
The insultnded harder than the fall.
The faces of the Tiger Group and the Dragon Group turned crimson. They were the
elite among outer disciples. They were feared. Respected. Never mocked.
And now?
They were being humiliated by a kitchen servant holding a wok.
"If Lie Zun almost killed that kitchen trash," someone from the Dragon Group
growled, “then we''ll send Number Three. You Huang Po, step up."
But before the Dragon Group could move, the Tiger Group acted first. Another outer
disciple leapt onto the tform.
The crowd gasped.
"That''s Ma Xiu!"
"Top Three of the Tiger Group!"
Excitement surged again.
"Oh damn,” Big Fatty shouted dramatically. "Ma Xiu is even stronger than Lie Zun! If
Lie Zun was at the Seventh Level of Qi Condensation, then Ma Xiu is already at the
Eighth Level!"
He pped his thigh for emphasis.
"The kitchen servant has no future now!"
"Come on! Hurry and bet! Maybe this time you''ll actually win!"
One of the men in the crowd snapped. His face was red with fury, his eyes
bloodshot from frustration.
"Bet? Bet what?" he shouted. "I''ve already bet everything I own! What do you expect me to wager now? You''ve taken all my money and valuables!"
First Fatty didn''t even blink. He smiled slowly, the kind of smile that belonged to a devil at a marketce.
"Don''t you still have clothes?" he asked lightly. "You can bet your clothes. Maybe
you''ll win everything back."
The words hung in the air.
For a moment, the man froze. Then something shifted in his eyes—desperation turning into reckless hope.
As if struck by sudden enlightenment, he tore off his outer robe and flung it onto the gambling pile.
A few gasped.
Then others followed.
Robes. Sashes. Jackets. One by one, they were thrown forward,nding in a heap
of cloth and greed.
"The fifth match begins!" First Fatty bellowed.
Ma Xiu didn''t waste time with speeches. He rushed forward the instant the words
were spoken. His movement was sharper than Lie Zun''s—cleaner, faster, heavier with killing intent.
This time, Alex didn''t escape so easily.
Steel shed.
Cloth ripped.
Another sh tore across his sleeve. A second strike shredded the front of his robe.
Threads flew through the air like snow.
Every attack came dangerously close to skin.
The crowd erupted in wild excitement.
"Ma Xiu! You must win this time!"
"Kill him!"
"End that kitchen trash!"
Ma Xiu pressed harder. His cultivation at the Eighth Level of Qi Condensation surged like a rising tide, crushing down on the tform. His de cut with brutal efficiency forcing Alex back step by step.
Then-
CLANG.
The iron wok rang out.
The sound was loud. Metallic. Final.
Ma Xiu''s body stiffened.
And then he copsed.
He hit the ground hard, eyes rolled back, breath knocked out of him.
Alex stood there, clothes torn, chest rising steadily. The iron wok rested calmly in his
hand.
For a second, there was no sound.
Then-
"Noooo!"
The square exploded.
"You Dragon Group bastards!"
"How can you not win against a servant?!"
"Are you all useless?!"
Insults flew in every direction. Rage turned the air hot.
And then-
The crowd suddenly went silent.
A figure stepped forward.
Huang Jie.
Even before he reached the tform, people began whispering.
"That''s Huang Jie..."
"Ninth Level of Qi Condensation..."
"One of the top outer disciples...”
First Fatty swallowed, then quickly recovered his showman''s voice.
"Huang Jie has stepped forward!
The Leader of the Tiger Group!" he announced loudly. "Ninth Levera Condensation! One of the strongest among all outer disciples! If he''s fighting the servant this time..."
He spread his hands dramatically.
"I can say with confidence-our Number Nine will lose."
He leaned toward the crowd, eyes glittering.
"If you want to win everything back, this is your chance."
"Bet! Bet! Bet!" someone screamed.
A man stood there bare-chested, shaking with anger. "I''ve already bet my clothes!
What more do you want from me? You damn fatty, you''re evil!"
First Fattyughed without shame.
"Don''t you still have pants?" he said smoothly. "We ept pants too."
The crowd looked at one another.
They were already half-naked. Already humiliated. Already drowning in sunk cost
and stubborn pride.
No one believed the kitchen servant could win again.
Not against Huang Jie.
One by one, they removed their pants.
The gambling pile grew into a mountain of fabric.
Cold air brushed against trembling legs, but greed burned hotter than shame.
And on the tform-
Huang Jie finally lifted his eyes and looked directly at Alex.
"You will die this time."
Huang Jie''s voice was cold and steady, but rage burned beneath it like fire under
iron.
Alex gave a respectful bow.
It was proper etiquette before a duel. Calm. Disciplined. Controlled.
But Huang Jie was beyond etiquette.
His group had been humiliated again and again—knocked down by a kitchen
servant wielding a wok. Their pride had been dragged across the dirt in front of the
entire outer court.
He refused to bow back.
Instead, the moment Alex lowered his head, Huang Jie moved.
He burst forward without warning, sword slicing through the air in a vicious
downward arc. He believed Alex wouldn''t see iting.
And he was right.
Alex didn''t see it.
But Gaia did.
In less than a blink, Gaia seized
control. Alex felt his body shift mid-bow, muscles firing before his mind.could catch up. He stepped forward is center center of gravity changed. His knees bent. His torso
twisted.
S Wor
The iron wok shot upward from below.
Huang Jie''s chin came down at the exact same instant.
ng.
The sound cracked across the tform like a hammer striking an anvil.
The wok smashed into Huang Jie''s jaw, snapping his head back violently. Blood
sprayed from his mouth.
But he didn''t fall.
His body was stronger than the others. His bones were hardened through years of
cultivation. Even with his head thrown back, he stayed standing.
Gaia didn''t hesitate.
Before Huang Jie could regain bnce-before he could counterattack-Alex''s
body pivoted sharply.
The iron wok swung again.
Wide.
Fast.
And this time-
It struck between Huang Jie''s legs.
A brutal, unmistakable impact.
Every male disciple in the square felt it instinctively. Faces turned pale. Hands
twitched unconsciously.
Huang Jie''s expression twisted. His body locked. His knees buckled.
He copsed.
"That''s illegal!" one Tiger Group disciple shouted furiously.
First Fatty crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Illegal?" he said mockingly.
"Since when are there illegal moves in a life-and-death duel?"
No one answered.
All eyes were on Huang Jie—leader of the Tiger Group—sprawled on the ground,
unconscious.
Silence swallowed the square.
Especially among those who had bet everything.
Those now standing in nothing but their underwear.
Their faces drained of blood.
Their futures hanging on a single servant holding a wok.
Then-
The true leader of the Dragon Group stepped forward.
The crowd parted instantly.
His presence alone shifted the air.
He climbed onto the tform without hurry. His gaze fell on Huang Jie''s motionless
body. Without ceremony, he kicked him off the tform like trash.
Huang Jie''s body rolled down the stone steps.
The message was clear.
He then lifted his eyes to Alex.
"Now," he said coldly, voice carrying across the square, "I will show you the
difference between the Tiger Group and the Dragon Group."
His lips curved slightly.
"The Tiger Group is built on losers. The Dragon Group is strength.”
A murmur of fear spread through the crowd.
On the side, First Fatty scanned the disciples who were now nearly naked. He
sneered
openly.
"If you have nothing left to bet," he saidzily, “then leave."
No one moved.
One man—bare-chested, wearing only thin undergarments—walked forward slowly.
The crowd stared.
He stepped up to the gambling pile and sat down beside it.
His voice trembled, but his eyes were wild.
"I bet myself."