For seven whole days, Qin Feng had completely immersed himself in the virtual recordings of those twenty-two battles.
Inside the massive Martial Arts Room of his dormitory, the holographic projector ran twenty-four hours a day, without interruption.
Over and over, from the perspective of an observer, Qin Feng calmly and critically scrutinized his every subtle movement and the consequences of every decision in each battle.
He was like the most demanding chess master, constantly reviewing his own games, searching for the tiniest flaws that could have led to defeat.
As the morning light of the seventh day streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows and into the Martial Arts Room, Qin Feng slowly shut down the holographic projector.
His gaze was deeper and brighter than it had been seven days prior.
Although these seven days of review had not brought any substantial increase to his power, they had elevated his combat awareness and his understanding of his own shortcomings to an unprecedented level of clarity.
He now knew which direction to focus his efforts.
’It’s about time.’
He glanced at the time on his personal terminal, then stood up and left his dormitory.
Today was the official opening day of the Canaan Newcomer Cup.
...
Canaan Star Martial Arts University, Combat Sector.
This was one of the most magnificent and eye-catching areas on the entire campus.
All of Canaan Star Martial Arts University’s official competitions were held here.
When Qin Feng arrived, he was instantly struck by the sheer spectacle of the massive, passionate, and frenzied crowd.
The entire Combat Sector was a complex of colossal, ring-shaped arenas reminiscent of the Ancient Roman Colosseum.
Right now, he and the other new students were in an arena designated "D-07."
Even though it was just a low-ranked venue used for the freshman competition, its scale was a hundred times grander than the North Pole Crown arena where Qiming First High School had held its school-wide tournament.
The circular tiers of seating, capable of holding millions of spectators, rose layer upon layer, stretching all the way to the clouds.
The stands were already packed; not a single seat was empty.
Countless upperclassmen had come to watch the show, eager to see what kind of "surprises" this year’s freshmen had in store for them.
And in the very center of the arena floated over a hundred massive platforms, each one simultaneously encased in an Energy Shield.
The entire scene projected a unique, violent aesthetic—a fusion of futuristic science fiction and primal bloodshed.
Qin Feng followed the crowd to the designated contestant waiting area.
Hundreds of thousands of freshmen had already gathered here, all of them participating in the Level 4 Martial Artist bracket.
Excitement, nervousness, and a thirst for victory were written on every face.
Soon, a Constant Star-level Powerhouse in a referee’s uniform, his aura calm and steady, appeared in the air above the waiting area.
His voice, deep and resonant as a great bell, echoed clearly in everyone’s ears.
"Welcome, everyone, to the Canaan Newcomer Cup!"
"The rules of the competition are simple!"
"All contestants will be randomly matched by the system for one-on-one platform duels!"
"Winners advance to the next round! Losers are eliminated immediately!"
"It’s that simple, and it’s that brutal!"
"Now, check your personal terminals immediately! Your first-round opponents have been assigned!"
...
The cold, direct rules left no room for luck.
Qin Feng immediately opened his personal terminal.
A high-tech match-up window popped up.
[First Round, Platform #73]
[Combatants:]
[Qin Feng (Student ID: GY173291001) vs. Zou Yun (Student ID: GY173290888)]
He glanced at his opponent’s information.
Zou Yun. Enrolled five years ago.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he set off toward Platform #73.
When he stepped onto the cold platform forged from hardened alloy,
his opponent—a lean, powerfully built young man with eyes as sharp as a hawk’s—was already waiting for him.
The potent and condensed waves of Spiritual Energy unintentionally radiating from the man made Qin Feng’s pupils contract.
’This Zou Yun... he’s strong!’
’His life force index is definitely over 70! It might even be as high as 75!’
"Match, begin!"
With the referee’s command, Zou Yun moved.
He used no weapon, only taking a single, swift step forward.
At the same time, he threw a punch.
It was a simple punch, yet to Qin Feng, it felt utterly unavoidable.
He felt as if the very space before him was being instantly compressed and solidified by that single fist.
A terrifying, indescribable pressure locked onto him from all sides, pinning him in place.
’Fast!’
’This punch is several times faster than the War Lord’s Power Claw was!’
Qin Feng’s dynamic vision couldn’t track its trajectory at all.
His brain couldn’t even begin to process a reaction.
VMM—
The fist came to a dead stop right in front of Qin Feng’s face.
"Pardon the display, junior," Zou Yun said with a friendly smile.
"Incredible."
Qin Feng knew he was no match.
He could tell this was another Perfect Fist Skill. What’s more, Zou Yun had anticipated his every move—that was why the attack had felt so impossible to dodge.