Jiang Fei was more than happy to see the hulking man stop running.
If the man had kept fleeing, Jiang Fei would’ve had to spend 800 gold coins to summon another Little Li Flying Dagger from the system to finish him. But now that he’d stopped, dealing with him—even if slightly troublesome—wouldn’t be an issue.
Steadying himself, Jiang Fei stepped forward until he was about ten meters away, finally getting a clear look at the muscular fugitive’s face.
“Jiang Fei,” Tian Fei called out, his naturally simpleton-like features breaking into a grin. He showed no trace of panic at being cornered, as if the explosion earlier had nothing to do with him.
He looked almost dim-witted.
But a keen observer would notice Tian Fei’s muscles were coiled tight beneath that relaxed facade, his focus razor-sharp. The slightest movement from Jiang Fei would trigger an instant reaction.
Of course, what Tian Fei truly feared was Jiang Fei’s flying dagger.
He didn’t consider Jiang Fei much of a threat in close combat—after all, even that cold-faced assassin had overpowered him initially. Taking Jiang Fei down bare-handed would be child’s play.
But the daggers were another matter. The fact that Jiang Fei had reversed the situation and killed a sharpshooter with one throw was terrifying—a skill Tian Fei had never witnessed. That’s why he’d stopped in this open terrain, refusing to give Jiang Fei a clear shot at his back.
“So you do know me,” Jiang Fei said, eyes narrowing with a faint smile. “Those two assassins sent after me in Jincheng—they were yours, right?”
Mangguo, pale and disheveled, hung unconscious in Tian Fei’s grip, clearly manipulated in some way but still alive.
Not waiting for an answer, Jiang Fei continued, “You’re clearly skilled enough. If you wanted me dead back then, why send lackeys? Had you come yourself, I’d be long gone. No me, no Beijing Medical Exchange. No victory for traditional Chinese medicine. Your operation wouldn’t have been exposed, that so-called ‘Poison King’ would still be breathing, and your boss wouldn’t be fleeing abroad like a rat while you play the desperate fugitive…”
He delivered the verbal jab with exaggerated pity, each word twisting the knife deeper.
Jiang Fei wasn’t wrong.
Had Tian Fei acted personally back then, catching Jiang Fei—who lacked both combat experience and time to summon daggers—off guard in close quarters, the outcome would’ve been certain.
But how was Tian Fei to know Jiang Fei wasn’t just a medic, but a freakish combatant too? Sending a close-combat specialist and a sniper had seemed foolproof.
This wasn’t a failure of planning—just Jiang Fei being absurdly OP.
Tian Fei’s simpleton mask twitched at the remarks, his meaty face distorting slightly, the kindly pretense slipping.
“You’re nervous right now, aren’t you?” Jiang Fei pressed, grinning.
“What makes you say that?”
“Don’t bother denying it. You’re a pro, but so am I. I can read you like an open book.” Jiang Fei waved a finger. “You’re terrified I’ll plant a dagger in your skull like I did to your assassin. Am I wrong?”
He paused, then adopted a conspiratorial tone: “Honestly? I didn’t bring any daggers today. Scout’s honor—cross my heart and hope to die! So why not toss the human shield aside and settle this mano a mano?”
Tian Fei’s lips split into a grin. “You think I’m actually stupid?”
“Of course not,” Jiang Fei said solemnly. “Only an idiot would assume the man who set this entire trap—who let himself be chased just to slaughter his pursuers—is a fool.”
“Then why would I discard my leverage?” Tian Fei chuckled, his grip tightening on Mangguo’s throat. His calloused fingers needed only a slight twist to snap her neck.
Damn it, Jiang Fei cursed inwardly. This meat mountain isn’t just strong—he’s paranoid too!
What kind of top-tier fighter was this cowardly despite his bulk?
“So what’s your play?” Jiang Fei shrugged. “Want me to let you walk away scot-free?”
“Nothing so unreasonable.” Tian Fei’s honest smile returned. “If you want her alive… kill yourself. Otherwise…” His fingers flexed meaningfully.
Jiang Fei: “……”
This guy had some nerve—using Mangguo as blackmail to demand suicide?
“You’re even scummier than I thought,” Jiang Fei muttered.
Ignoring the jab, Tian Fei began counting in his gravelly voice, fingers tensing: “One… two…”
The message was clear: three seconds to comply, or Mangguo died.
Jiang Fei crossed his arms and watched, unmoved.
“Go on, then! Do it!” He made a mocking ‘after you’ gesture, eyes icy.
Had Ye Yuanyuan been here, her bond with Mangguo might’ve forced her hand. But Jiang Fei? He barely tolerated the woman. Saving her was optional—dying for her? Not a chance.
Tian Fei sighed theatrically. “Seems she means little to you. Pity.”
“Enough theatrics,” Jiang Fei spat, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s fight.”
Still distrustful, Tian Fei kept Mangguo as a shield while inching forward—ensuring any dagger throw would be impossible.
Jiang Fei’s patience snapped.
With a sharp exhale, he charged.
Ten meters… eight… five…
At two meters, seeing Jiang Fei’s hands empty, Tian Fei finally hurled Mangguo aside like trash and swung a sledgehammer fist at Jiang Fei’s head.
Jiang Fei met it head-on.
His strength stat was now 4x a normal human’s, and his incomplete Tai Chi had grown sharper. Confident, he opted against summoning his sword for Dugu Nine Swords, instead meeting brute force with Tai Chi’s hammer-style strikes.
BAM!
Fists collided.
Tai Chi’s soft exterior belied its explosive power—to redirect force, one first had to master generating it.
The impact sent Tian Fei stumbling back two steps, his heels gouging trenches in the dirt. Jiang Fei fared worse—staggering wildly, barely staying upright. A metallic tang flooded his mouth; his bones felt shattered.
Jiang Fei’s eyes widened in disbelief.
How?!
With 4x strength and 38 stamina, he was practically superhuman. Tian Fei’s speed was one thing, but this raw power defied logic!
Before he could recover, Tian Fei lunged again, his fist—the size of a grapefruit—aiming to pulp Jiang Fei’s skull.
Panicking, Jiang Fei crossed his arms in a hasty Cloud Hands defense.
And in that desperate moment, he instinctively channeled the faintest wisp of his North Dipper Divine Skill internal energy—
—Tian Fei’s punch connected.
Then his face contorted in horror, as if he’d seen a ghost.
