?The sun was beginning to dip, casting long, bloody shadows across the arena floor. The air was thick with the copper scent of spilled blood from previous matches.

  ?"Quarter-Final Match 3!" The referee's voice cracked with exhaustion. "Jiang Chen vs. Poison Master Yan!"

  ?The crowd leaned forward. They had seen Jiang Chen slap a hammer-wielder unconscious. They had seen him walk through fire. But Yan was different. Yan was the top disciple of the Hall of Shadows—an assassin in training.

  ?Yan stepped into the ring. He was wrapped in bandages from head to toe, leaving only his eyes visible. He held two curved daggers that dripped with a green, viscous fluid.

  ?"I've watched you, corpse-feeder," Yan whispered, his voice muffled by the cloth. "You rely on brute force. You tank hits. But you can't tank what rots your blood."

  ?Jiang Chen didn't respond. He stood in the center, arms loose at his sides.

  ?[Technique Active: The Starless Breath.]

  [Detection Radius: 50 meters.]

  ?To the crowd, Jiang Chen looked relaxed. To Apeiron, he was a coiled spring.

  ?"Begin!"

  ?Yan vanished.

  ?It wasn't speed. It was a technique. He smashed a smoke bomb on the ground, creating a cloud of thick, gray fog that instantly filled the arena.

  ?The crowd booed. "We can't see anything!"

  ?Inside the fog, Yan moved silently. He was using Ghost Steps, suppressing his sound and aura. He circled behind Jiang Chen, daggers raised, aiming for the kidneys.

  ?"He is at your six o'clock," Apeiron noted, sounding bored. "Heart rate elevated. He is nervous."

  ?Jiang Chen stood still. The gray fog swirled around him, obscuring his vision.

  ?But he didn't need eyes. The [Void Eyes] saw the heat signature of Yan moving through the mist like a glowing red phantom.

  ?Yan lunged.

  ?"Die!" Yan hissed, driving the poisoned daggers toward Jiang Chen's lower back.

  ?Jiang Chen reacted.

  ?It wasn't a conscious decision. It wasn't a calculated tournament move. It was the muscle memory of the Obsidian Furnace Body—a reflex drilled into him by fighting Hydras and Chimeras.

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  ?When a beast attacks from behind, you don't block. You break.

  ?Jiang Chen spun.

  ?He didn't dodge the daggers. He let them hit his robe. The fabric tore, but the blades screeched against his bronze skin, failing to puncture.

  ?Yan's eyes went wide. "What—"

  ?Jiang Chen grabbed Yan's arm.

  ?He meant to just throw him. He meant to toss him out of the ring like he did with the others.

  ?But the [Void Foundation] pulsed. A spike of hunger/aggression flooded his nervous system. For a split second, Jiang Chen forgot he was in a sparring match. He thought he was back in the swamp.

  ?He didn't throw. He tore.

  ?He pulled Yan's arm while simultaneously kicking Yan's hip in the opposite direction.

  ?CRACK-RIIIIIIP.

  ?The sound was wet. It was the sound of a chicken wing being pulled off a roast chicken.

  ?Yan's arm didn't just break. It was ripped out of the socket, tendons snapping like rubber bands.

  ?"AAAAAAGH!"

  ?Yan screamed—a high, thin sound that cut through the fog. He collapsed, blood spraying from his shoulder, clutching the empty space where his arm used to be.

  ?The fog cleared.

  ?The crowd saw it.

  ?They saw Yan writhing in a pool of blood.

  ?And they saw Jiang Chen standing there, holding a severed arm still clutching a dagger.

  ?Jiang Chen blinked. The red haze in his vision cleared.

  ?He looked at the arm in his hand. He looked at the screaming disciple.

  ?"Oh," Jiang Chen whispered. "Oops."

  ?He dropped the arm. It landed with a fleshy thud next to Yan.

  ?The arena was dead silent.

  ?This wasn't a knockout. This wasn't a "spar." This was mutilation.

  ?The referee rushed over, face pale. He checked Yan. "Healer! We need a Healer! Massive trauma!"

  ?He looked up at Jiang Chen with genuine fear.

  ?"Winner... Jiang Chen."

  ?Jiang Chen looked at his own hand. There was no blood on it—the [Void Claw] energy had cauterized his own skin on contact.

  ?"I didn't mean to take it off," Jiang Chen said to the referee. "I just pulled."

  ?"Get out," the referee whispered, waving him toward the tunnel. "Just... go."

  ?Jiang Chen walked back. The crowd parted for him as he approached the exit. No one booed. No one threw trash. They just stared.

  ?Up in the VIP box, the Elders were whispering furiously.

  ?"Did you see the torque?"

  "That wasn't technique. That was sheer horsepower."

  "He's dangerous. Unstable."

  ?Liu Feng didn't whisper. He was leaning over the railing, a smile playing on his lips.

  ?"He's not unstable," Liu Feng murmured to himself. "He's just used to killing things that don't break so easily."

  ?Liu Feng's golden eyes burned.

  ?"Finally. Someone who won't break when I hit them."

  ?In the tunnel, Lu Pao was waiting. He looked like he was about to vomit.

  ?"Boss," Lu Pao squeaked. "You... you ripped his arm off."

  ?"It was an accident," Jiang Chen said, walking past him. "He was softer than I thought."

  ?"Liar," Apeiron's voice echoed in his head. "You enjoyed the snap. The vibration of the bone breaking. It fed the predator."

  ?Jiang Chen stopped in the shadows. He looked at his hand again.

  ?"Maybe," Jiang Chen admitted. "Or maybe I'm just tired of pretending to be gentle."

  ?He looked at the bracket.

  ?Semi-Finals:

  Jiang Chen vs. Disciple Mo (Disciple of Elder Mo).

  ?"Mo," Jiang Chen noted. "The discipline elder who interrogated me."

  ?"A proxy war," Apeiron agreed. "The Elder suspects you. He is sending his personal student to test your limits. If you break him too... the Elder will step in."

  ?Jiang Chen clenched his fist.

  ?"Then I won't break him," Jiang Chen said. "I'll humiliate him."