The trap snapped shut. It had all the artistry of a dropped anvil in a cartoon.
Four against one. The math was normal, typical for peanut-brained, budget-villain logic.
Mo Tian's shriek of "END HIM!" absolutely murdered the peaceful vibe. Gone was the chill forest air, replaced by the chaos of very small-minded people.
Lu Chen didn't even bother to move first. He just stood there, radiating calmness and farming aura. His Body Defense was level nine, after all. He was basically a sentient brick wall.
First up: a Brute built like a badly-stacked cupboard. He roared, putting his whole body tempering 6th Stage heart into a shout—"Shattering Rock Fist!"—aimed right at Lu Chen's shoulder.
Out of pure, experimental curiosity, Lu Chen turned into the punch.
KLANG.
The sound was deeply unmotivating. Like hitting a block of Titanium. Lu Chen's body gave a polite little tremble, a notification that an impact had occurred. His shoulder just went, 'Huh. A mild itch.'
The Brute, however, stumbled back, cradling his fist like it betrayed him. "Aiya! My hand! It's like I punched a block made of pure steel!"
His knuckles were already puffing up like angry red buns. Lu Chen waited. He braced for the sweet, sweet blue screen of progress.
[Rock Body (Lv. 9) EXP +0]
…Excuse me? Lu Chen's eye did a tiny, furious twitch. This is outrageous. Try again!
"DON'T JUST STAND THERE!" Mo Tian screeched, his face going almost purple. "HE'S JUST A STURDY TURTLE! CRACK THE SHELL!"
Brute Number Two, a man clearly not burdened by an overabundance of thought, decided logic was for losers. He unleashed a frantic combo. A kick to the thigh.
THOK.
A hammer-fist to the back.
FWOP.
Lu Chen rode it out, patient as a cliff face. His robes fluttered pitifully. That was about all the damage they did.
[Rock Body EXP +0] [Rock Body EXP +0]
"Why… is he… still standing?!" the first Brute whined, blowing on his swollen fingers.
"BEHOLD! MY TRUE MIGHT!" Brute Two bellowed, putting his entire life's energy into a two-handed overhead smash.
Enough. Lu Chen casually raised his forearm to block.
SNAP-CRUNCH.
That nasty sound did NOT come from Lu Chen's arm. It came from Brute Two's forearm, which suddenly decided to explore a new, zigzag career path. The man howled, hopping backward like he'd stepped on lava. "HE BROKE MY BONE! WITH HIS SKIN! IT'S LIKE SPIRIT-FORGED STEEL!"
Lu Chen looked at his own arm. Not a scratch. The message was annoying, but clear: his defense was maxed out here, but his offense was still… meh. He could tank a village, but actually finishing this fight would require effort. How boring.
That's when the dagger guy struck. While Lu Chen was lamenting the universe's bad balance, the man became a streak of toxic green, aiming straight for Lu Chen's gut.
Poison! Lu Chen's eyes lit up. That's not blunt force! That's a status effect! That's gotta be worth major EXP!
He executed a masterful "trip" on a mossy rock. The glowing dagger sank into the meat of his forearm instead.
SCHLICK.
Icy fire shot up his veins. The dagger-wielder's face morphed into an ugly painting of triumph. "GOT YOU! Your core will rot! You'll beg for death!"
Mo Tian threw back his head and let out a hyena-caw of victory. "SEE?! STRATEGY WINS! YOU'RE A DEAD MAN WALKING!"
Lu Chen looked at the fancy knife sticking out of his arm. He felt the invasive chill… and a spark of hope. Come on, feed me that sweet EXP…
A familiar, cozy warmth bubbled up from his core. It surged forth, surrounded the nasty venom, and fwoosh—incinerated it into nothing-burger.
[Detected: 'Spirit-Eating Centipede Venom' (Tier-3 Corrosive).]
[Neutralizing…]
[Poison has been digested.No EXP gained. You are immune to this trash.]
The triumph on the dagger-wielder's face didn't fade. It instantly shattered. His eyes bugged out like they were trying to escape. "Imp-Impossible… I traded all my contribution points for that venom…"
Mo Tian's victory crow died, becoming a choked gurgle. "H-how…?"
Gritting his teeth against the regular, stabby pain, Lu Chen reached over, yanked the dagger out with a sick schlorp, and watched healthy red blood—not cool corrupted black—well up. He tore a strip from his ruined robe, bandaged it tight, and flexed his hand. A fresh, sharp pain greeted him.
He looked from his bandaged arm to the dagger guy, whose jaw was now hanging open wide enough to attract flies that would love to get into something nasty in a wet warm cave.
"Your killer poison," Lu Chen said, his voice flat, "had less kick than spoiled milk."
The dagger-wielder made a sound like a deflating accordion. His precious blade dropped from numb fingers. "M-monster… Demon…!"
That was it. The final test. No EXP. Nothing. This whole ambush was a glittery waste of his very precious, yet very very limited time.
A soul-deep exhaustion washed over him.
"Show's over," he announced, his tone suggesting immense boredom.
He moved with the grim purpose of a man cleaning up a frat house after a bad party.
The first brute, still nursing his fist, was closest. Lu Chen stepped in and planted a solid 7th-Stage punch right in his breadbasket. The man "OOF!"ed, folded like a cheap lawn chair, and hit the dirt, wheezing. My offense is so mediocre, Lu Chen thought with a sigh. A real expert would've knocked him into next week.
The second brute, cradling his new zigzag arm, charged with a snotty roar. Lu Chen sidestepped, grabbed his collar, and helped introduce his face to a nearby bamboo stalk. CRUNCH-SPLAT. The man slid down, out cold, leaving a damp, face-shaped imprint on the wood.
The dagger-wielder was weeping, scrambling for his blade. Lu Chen sighed—the sound of ultimate disappointment—and punted the evil dagger deep into the bushes. "Forget it," he muttered. A swift kick to the backside sent the man tumbling into a thick patch of stinging nettles. His subsequent yelp was high-pitched and deeply satisfying.
Lu Chen turned. Time for the grand finale.
Mo Tian stood alone. His big villain aura had fizzled out like a wet firecracker. His face was a masterpiece of crumbling rage and raw, pants-wetting terror.
"Y-you… cheating, heaven-defying… worm!" he spat, falling into a shaky combat stance. He looked like a kid pretending to be a warrior. "I! WILL! END! YOU!"
"You hit with the force of a damp napkin," Lu Chen stated. "I'm bored."
With a scream that was mostly fear, Mo Tian lunged. His 8th Stage speed was legit—a blur Lu Chen couldn't match on pure power. So he didn't try.
He used Mirage Step.
Swoosh! Three afterimages popped up around him. Mo Tian's fierce punch tore through empty air.
Lu Chen reappeared beside him, dropped low for a leg sweep feint, and as Mo Tian flinched, Lu Chen's other leg shot up—not with overwhelming force, but with system-guided, pinpoint accuracy.
It connected with a soft, critical spot—the 'Gate of the Falling Immortal,' if you're being polite. A gate was definitely breached.
THUD-SQUELCH.
The sound was moist, final, and made every male creature in a five-mile radius instinctively cross their legs.
All the color, qi, and evil ambition drained from Mo Tian's body instantly. His eyes became perfect, dinner-plate-sized circles of pure, universe-shattering agony. He didn't fall. He deflated, curling into the world's most pathetic fetal position. A single, beautiful tear of total defeat rolled into the dirt, as though the tear drop was staring a him with pity. His future lineage wept for him in that moment.
[Combat Concluded. Gains: Cultivation EXP +15 Gained a new cultivation skill.]
"Truly," Lu Chen said, catching his breath, his arm throbbing, "a legendary waste of my afternoon."
Then, cold reality hit. He was broke. With the sigh of
a man collecting a debt from a debtor, he started rifling through their pockets. Time to get paid for this garbage-disposal gig.