From the moment he charged to the instant the spear tip was at his throat, the entire process took less than a second.
"I... I surrender."
He managed to force out those two words.
The moment the words left his lips, the referee’s icy voice echoed across the arena.
[Sector B-71, Arena 1314, Qin Feng, Victor!]
In a flash of white light, Qin Feng’s figure vanished from the arena and reappeared in the spectator stands.
Returning at the same time were Lei Meng, Xiong Yanfu, Tie Mu, Shi Potian, as well as Qin Lan and Yin Jing.
Clearly, they had all easily won their first-round matches.
"Damn it, I got insta-killed."
Lei Meng spread his hands helplessly. "My luck is just too rotten. I ran into an old monster with a life force index of 400 in the very first round."
Then came the second round, the third round...
The pace of the competition was astonishingly fast.
With tens of thousands of arenas operating simultaneously, a new round of battles began almost every few minutes.
Qin Feng sat quietly in his seat. Each time he was matched with an opponent, he would teleport away, only to return within twenty or thirty seconds—or sometimes even just ten.
His fights were simple to the point of being tedious.
It didn’t matter who his opponent was, or whether they used a saber, a sword, fists, or a whip.
It didn’t matter if their fighting style was ferociously powerful or cunningly agile.
Qin Feng’s response was always the same single move.
—A thrust of his spear.
A seemingly unremarkable thrust, yet one that contained a perfect understanding of timing and distance.
Not a single opponent could withstand that one spear thrust and make it to a second exchange.
In the second round, his opponent was an Assassin-type Martial Artist with an agile Body Technique. He was ultimately struck on the wrist by the spear, forcing him to drop his longsword and surrender.
In the third round, his opponent was a Heavy Armor Martial Artist specializing in defense. His Heavy Shield, sturdy enough to block a full-power strike from an ordinary Level 4 Martial Artist, was pierced by Qin Feng’s spear at the weakest node of its Spiritual Energy Flow. An immense force erupted, sending both man and shield flying into the protective barrier.
The fourth round... The fifth round...
Time flew by amidst these one-sided battles.
When the notification for the end of the fifth round sounded, Qin Feng’s name finally began to attract attention in certain circles.
「Inside a luxurious private box in Sector C-98 of the Glory Colosseum.」
Dozens of lavishly dressed Martial Artists, all exuding extraordinary auras, were gathered around a massive holographic sand table.
Not a single one of them was weaker than a Sixth-level Martial Artist.
Tens of thousands of lights flickered on the sand table, each one representing a contestant they deemed to have potential and was worth watching.
"Hm? This one’s named Qin Feng. Pull up his data."
A young man in lavish robes, wearing three rings on one hand, pointed to a dot of light in the corner of the sand table that the data analysis system had just flagged as "High Win Rate."
Immediately, a Martial Artist in charge of the console pulled up Qin Feng’s file.
"Qin Feng, student ID GX7382901, enrolled for ten years. All one-hit victories, average time under 15 seconds. Based on Energy Fluctuation analysis, his life force index is estimated to be over 450. His fifth-round opponent, Zhao Kai, had a life force index of 320 and had mastered five First-level Killing Techniques at the Perfection Level. He was still insta-killed in a single move."
"Oh? Enrolled for ten years?"
The lavishly dressed youth’s interest was piqued. ’Ten years, keeping a low profile all this time... Interesting.’ "Add him to the ’dark horse’ watch list. Let the peripheral bookmakers open a line on him ’to make the top 100,000.’ Set the odds a little higher, say, 1-to-5."
"Yes, Young Master."
Similar scenes were playing out in every corner of the Colosseum.
Although Qin Feng’s fights ended too quickly to attract widespread attention, for the "professional" spectators and bookmakers who delighted in analyzing data and discovering dark horses, his terrifying record of "eight consecutive one-hit victories" was more than enough to raise eyebrows.
His name began to quietly appear on the "high-potential" lists of the major bookmakers.
Meanwhile, in Qin Feng’s own small circle of friends, the atmosphere was already growing heated.
"Holy shit! Boss, you’re a beast! That makes nine wins in a row, right?"
Lei Meng shouted excitedly as he watched Qin Feng emerge from the light of the teleporter once again.
"Fatty Xiong! Did you see? People on the forums are already talking about the boss! They’re saying he’s one of the dark horses in this year’s Newcomer Cup!"
Xiong Yanfu smugly brandished his personal terminal, displaying the chat group for his private betting pool. By now, quite a few people in the group were starting to jump on the bandwagon and place bets on Qin Feng.
"Calm down, calm down."
Xiong Yanfu waved his hand with feigned solemnity. "This is nothing. The real show hasn’t even started! When Old Qin breaks into the top 100,000, that’s when we’ll really start raking it in!"
Qin Feng paid no mind to the discussions about him.
He was completely immersed in his own world.
The winning streak was something he had long expected.
He was simply enjoying the pure process of crushing opponents with absolute strength, while also observing other fighters’ combat styles to broaden his own understanding.
The sixth, the seventh round...
The battles continued.
And so did Qin Feng’s winning streak.
His opponents grew progressively stronger, from freshmen at the start to senior students who generally had life force indexes over 300, or even 400.
Their Killing Techniques also became more refined, and some had even begun to grasp Second-level Killing Techniques.