Chapter 145: Brilliant

When Li Mochen stepped onto the stage, tens of thousands of people in the stadium were shouting 'Jackass' in unison. The earth-shattering sound seemed about to collapse the arena.

Li Mochen knew the word 'Jackass' meant fool, idiot, or scumbag, but he paid it no heed and walked calmly to the center of the ring, standing face to face with James Lanster six meters apart.

Then, from his opponent's pupils, he saw a glint of hatred and a crimson murderous intent.

'I might have to thank you. You've made my name a household word across the entire East Coast. See? They treat me like a top-tier star.'

James Lanster grinned, revealing a row of white teeth: 'But I still can't forgive you, you bastard. You've defiled my dream and tarnished my honor.'

Li Mochen couldn't be bothered to respond, standing silently, waiting for the match to begin. But James's expression was far from calm: 'I know you're probably strong, not the useless piece of shit everyone says. But today, I'm still going to crush you into dust! As the price for defiling my dream, I'll break both your legs—just like I told the media. I don't give a damn if you're a Wiltenstein.'

Li Mochen recalled his image consultant's advice and still said nothing, merely fixing a contemptuous gaze on this Lanster.

The consultant's idea was for him to maintain an aloof demeanor throughout, speak as little as possible, be as cold as he could, and adopt an attitude of looking down on any opponent.

Li Mochen felt he could basically manage that; if not, he could always activate 'Heavenly Mind's Illumination' and just be himself.

His gaze clearly enraged James Lanster. The latter bared his teeth, revealing deep white fangs: 'You've successfully pissed me off, you shit! I'll make you pay. This isn't over between us—'

At that moment, the referee beside them began the countdown: 'Both sides, attention! Five seconds! Three! Two! One! Zero! Start!'

As the referee waved the red flag, Li Mochen, following Carl's instructions, kissed his bracelet affectionately. He noticed that from every angle in the stadium, cameras were zooming in on him.

The instant the flag fell, James stomped his right foot hard on the ground, then shot forward like a cheetah, covering five meters in a flash. The pair of long and short swords in his hands whipped up a gale, slashing toward Li Mochen with lightning speed.

Especially the shorter magical steel sword in his left hand, which faintly shimmered with air blades. The overwhelming wind pressure made Li Mochen's hair dance wildly.

The next moment, a loud clang erupted between them. The collision of metal weapons not only produced a piercing ring but also sparked a dazzling burst of fire.

Under the impact of the tremendous force, Li Mochen stepped back half a pace. A sinister grin appeared in James's eyes. That Li Mochen could perfectly defend against his first strike did surprise James, but the truly lethal part of this move was the second, third, fourth, and fifth strikes to follow.

The basic warrior skill 'Triple Slash' had spawned many terrifying techniques in prestigious families, and James Lanster, thanks to the school's resources, had been fortunate enough to learn the Cavendish family's improved technique based on 'Triple Slash'—'Hell Quintet.' Using dual swords, he could unleash five consecutive strikes in the time it took others to deliver three, each blow heavier than the last.

But just as James's second sword was about to descend on Li Mochen's head, he suddenly felt his left sword yanked violently by a tremendous force, causing him to lose control of his body and lurch forward involuntarily under inertia.

As Li Mochen sidestepped, his right sword swept past harmlessly. Yet what shocked and bewildered James even more was that the pulling force didn't stop; it continued to twist and spin, forcing him to rotate along with it. By the time the force diminished and he regained control of his body, James found himself kneeling on the ground, facing Li Mochen. His left sword had flown out of his hand and landed beside him.

And the man opposite him, Andre Li Wiltenstein, stood tall and poised, resting a sword on his shoulder while gazing down at him with indifferent eyes.

At that moment, the entire stadium fell silent. Everyone was stunned, bewildered, even incredulous, unable to believe what they were seeing.

They couldn't understand why, just as the fight had begun, the James Lanster they had bet on was kneeling before Li Mochen.

'What just happened?'

'I couldn't even see it clearly!'

'It seems like after one exchange, a few spins, and James just knelt down.'

After a full three breaths, a cheer finally erupted in the stadium—from Li Mochen's few fans, who had been completely suppressed until the arena quieted down, finally able to make their voices heard.

The referee on the platform was also bewildered. He too had no idea what had just happened or how to rule.

Li Mochen's sword was merely resting on James's shoulder, not delivering any impact that met the criteria for a scoring hit. Yet the blade was only a hair's breadth from James's throat, which could easily be considered a fatal blow.

Frowning slightly, he listened to the voice in his earpiece before raising the blue flag: 'Side hit! Three points!'

At the same time, he waved his flag, signaling Li Mochen to step back.

But by then, James's eyes were bloodshot. His skin gradually flushed, faint mist rising, and his arms began to swell.

Just as Li Mochen withdrew his sword from James Lanster's shoulder, the 'Dual Sword Prince' let out a beastly roar. Both his swords once again glowed with cyan-white aura, slashing horizontally at Li Mochen's waist.

Warrior Skill—Whirlwind Slash + Giant Arm Strike!

At that moment, James Lanster not only increased the speed of his technique by a notch but also activated the magical array on his armor, generating several wind blades simultaneously.

Li Mochen raised an eyebrow at the sight, thinking this guy never learns. With another twist and spin of his sword, in an instant, James Lanster was once again on his knees. Same posture, both swords flying from his hands, clattering to the ground on either side, while the deadly wind blades veered far off target, slashing beyond the ring.

This time, not only did the seventy thousand in the stadium fall into dead silence again, but the two people in Box 3 were also in a daze.

'Did you see that, Dwight?'

Alec Brood only exhaled the cigar smoke he had accidentally inhaled after coming to his senses: 'Lanster is indeed no match for him, but this isn't what I imagined.'

'Same here.'

Dwight Payton said thoughtfully, 'This is what the East calls using leverage to overcome force, skill over brute strength—a highly refined fighting technique.'