Chapter 146: She Used Her Ultimate, While He Just Basic Attacked?
The entire lounge had been reduced to ruins.
Zhang Yangqing’s words left the room in dead silence.
The fox warrior, who had intended to intimidate him, was now too terrified to speak.
She could barely even breathe, let alone fight back.
A faint blush spread across her pale cheeks as she gasped for air, her ample chest rising and falling rapidly.
A closer look would reveal her legs trembling uncontrollably.
Just performing these basic actions required her utmost effort.
While the others were merely startled by the overwhelming pressure, she was the one being directly suppressed by it.
The fox warrior couldn’t comprehend what kind of monster stood before her.
He looks like an ordinary human, no mutations at all—how can he possess such terrifying power?
She felt like she had unleashed her ultimate move, only for him to counter it with a basic attack.
If Zhang Yangqing knew what she was thinking, he’d probably laugh and say: When did I even attack? I just stood up. Don’t jump to conclusions.
At this moment, the inmates on the floor cautiously lifted their heads.
They knew exactly how formidable a seven-star powerhouse was. The beautiful fox warrior before them was a renowned expert in this world, a legend they had only ever seen on screens.
In the past, they hadn’t even been worthy of standing in her presence.
Every seven-star powerhouse had their own myth, revered as untouchable deities in the eyes of the natives.
And now, this untouchable fox warrior couldn’t even withstand a single move from their new prison boss?
No—not even a move. Just a glance.
Even a blind man could see how dire her situation was.
Or rather, the moment their new boss unleashed his aura, everyone’s fate lay in his hands.
Many inmates were inwardly reeling—Thank goodness I didn’t offend him in prison, or I’d never have made it out alive.
The lion-man and rhinoceros inmates were practically green with fear.
Back in the penitence hall, they’d taken an instant dislike to their new boss.
Thankfully, they were too slow-witted to mouth off.
Otherwise, they’d have been tossed into the pit as sacrificial offerings.
No—not maybe. Given this boss’s style, it was a certainty.
The only one acting smug was the snake-eyed lackey, who wore a “Told you so” expression as he disdainfully eyed the wide-eyed inmates. Look at you amateurs—this is just my boss’s normal behavior.
Outwardly, he appeared unshaken, but inwardly, he was just as stunned. He’d seen Zhang Yangqing fight before, but never like this.
That simple act of standing up had nearly given him a heart attack.
But as the most loyal underling, he had to maintain his composure. He couldn’t let his boss think he was easily impressed.
I can afford to lose face, but I won’t let my boss lose his.
Truthfully, ever since Zhang Yangqing had fed him that miraculous fruit, he’d guessed his boss had to be at least seven-star. Otherwise, why would he give away such a treasure?
Now, he realized he’d still underestimated him. Seven-star powerhouses seem like trash in front of my boss.
The most awkward person in the room was the Paradise prison officer. He’d thought having two seven-star experts would make this mission a cakewalk.
But the fox warrior had tried to assert dominance, turning the atmosphere from awkward to downright terrifying.
Standing near her, the officer gazed at Zhang Yangqing like he was a god.
His aura was as vast as the galaxy, making the officer feel like a speck of dust.
He had no idea how to smooth things over.
And if anyone was more embarrassed than the officer, it was the fox warrior, whose attempt at intimidation had backfired spectacularly.
Just when everyone expected her to kneel and beg for mercy, she pulled off a “last-ditch comeback.”
With a sharp cry, she broke free from her restraints—or so she thought.
Zhang Yangqing had merely stood up and released his aura. If he’d actually wanted to restrain her, she wouldn’t have been able to breathe, let alone move.
Instead of fleeing or apologizing, the fox warrior reached into her pocket.
The prison officer paled.
She was holding a controller—pointed straight at Zhang Yangqing.
“Die!” she shouted, slamming the red button on the right.
The instant-death button for executing prisoners.
The officer had only lifted their restrictions, not removed their wristbands.
The reason was simple: they needed the inmates to carry out their mission—destroying Paradise. They weren’t about to free them entirely.
Meaning, the fox warrior’s controller should still work on Zhang Yangqing’s wristband.
The snake-eyed lackey panicked. He tried to block it, but as a six-star peak, he was no match for her speed.
In that split second, viewers thought Zhang Yangqing was about to suffer an upset defeat.
Chinese audiences held their breath; some couldn’t even bear to watch.
Zhang Xuanjing wondered: Why isn’t the Heavenly Master dodging? Was he caught off guard?
Su Muyu, however, thought: Why didn’t Yangqing just kill her instantly?
Because Su Muyu knew—if Zhang Yangqing wanted her dead, she wouldn’t have even twitched a finger before she was gone.
The next moment, the fox warrior smirked triumphantly as she saw Zhang Yangqing clutch his chest in apparent agony.
It worked!
The instant-death effect was absolute!
You might be stronger, but you’ve still fallen into my hands!
The Chinese audience’s faces drained of color. Has the invincible Heavenly Master really lost?
Even Su Muyu was stunned. Did Yangqing actually slip up?
But strangely, the live feed didn’t cut to black.
“Boss! What’s wrong? Don’t scare me like this!”
The snake-eyed lackey shielded Zhang Yangqing, helping his “suffering” boss up.
He was frantic. Even with all his abilities, he couldn’t bring someone back from the dead.
The other inmates, being opportunistic, showed no reaction.
The fox warrior’s face was alight with triumph. Though her methods were underhanded, she’d “slain” a powerhouse beyond comprehension.
This feat would cement her name in history.
But in the next second, her smile froze.
It hadn’t vanished—it had transferred to someone else’s face.
The man who should’ve been dead was now smiling at her.
Zhang Yangqing patted his lackey’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
Everyone was dumbfounded. He was just hit with an instant-death effect—why is he completely unharmed?
The fox warrior’s eyes nearly bulged out of her skull. How?
Why didn’t Zhang Yangqing dodge?
Because he didn’t need to.
He had invincibility frames.
A special skill allowed him to harden a body part for ten minutes—a unique rule granted by the Ghost Stories World.
And unique rules trumped individual dungeon mechanics.
Truthfully, Zhang Yangqing had many ways to counter the instant-death effect.
But he chose the most humiliating one.
Purely to break his opponent’s morale.
To give her a taste of soaring hope followed by crushing despair.
From the very beginning, nothing in this Ghost Stories World could restrain him. He could’ve broken out of prison anytime.
But since he didn’t know the clearance conditions, he played along.
Veterans of the Ghost Stories World operated like this.
Other contestants feared being toyed with by the Ghost Stories World.
Zhang Yangqing feared breaking the Ghost Stories World instead.
His antics, however, had given everyone else a scare.
If not for the live feed still running, viewers would’ve thought they were hallucinating.
“Boss, you’re really okay?”
The snake-eyed lackey inspected Zhang Yangqing closely, checking for signs of a “last rally.”
“Really, I’m fine.”
Zhang Yangqing shrugged. What’s the big deal?
“Then why did you make that face earlier?”
The lackey was puzzled. That performance had seemed way too convincing.
Zhang Yangqing grinned. “Well, she was putting so much effort into her act—I figured I’d play along. Otherwise, it’d be awkward for her.”
Everyone: “…”
The fox warrior had a strong urge to curse.
You think this isn’t more awkward for me?!
You’re just toying with me, aren’t you?
Having had his fun, Zhang Yangqing decided to teach the beautiful fox warrior a memorable lesson.
When his gaze landed on her again, her blood ran cold.
His eyes told her everything: Your fate is sealed.
Would kneeling and begging for mercy work now?
Probably not.
The moment she’d offended Zhang Yangqing, anyone familiar with him knew—she was already dead.
“Since you’re out of tricks… goodbye.”
In this turn-based game, he’d let her go first. If she couldn’t kill him, then she would die.
The fox warrior tried to flee—but then her organs, brain, even her eyeballs began violently swelling.
The prison officer opened his mouth, perhaps to intervene.
BOOM!
A deafening explosion rocked the room.
Every inch of the fox warrior’s body was obliterated into dust.
Flesh, blood, bones—even her fur—were reduced to splatters of paint across the lounge.
The entire building shook as a crimson mist filled the space.
Admittedly, the explosion had a certain… artistic quality.
While viewers had seen Zhang Yangqing’s methods before and were somewhat prepared, the inmates were not.
A seven-star powerhouse had just been popped like a balloon.
The snake-eyed lackey stared at Zhang Yangqing with fanatical worship.
Before, he’d thought his boss was terrifying for cutting down enemies in a single strike.
Now? He can annihilate a seven-star expert with a flick of his wrist.
Zhang Yangqing turned to the speechless prison officer. “Did you have something to say earlier?”
The officer broke out in a cold sweat.
He’d been standing closest to the fox warrior and had gotten a front-row view of her… disassembly.
Half his face was still spattered with red.
Faced with such power, he could only stammer: “N-Nothing. I was just… asking if you were hungry. Should I prepare some food?”
Bro, you just murdered her—what can I say?
Truthfully, he had wanted to intervene earlier. But now? Pointless.
If he spoke up now, he’d be joining her.
With the fox warrior’s colorful demise, the lounge’s drama came to an end. Zhang Yangqing’s ruthlessness left many viewers shaken.
“Holy crap, I thought the Heavenly Master was done for! Thank goodness.”
“No more eye candy, but damn—Zhang Yangqing doesn’t hesitate at all.”
“New here? The moment he stood up, I knew fox-girl was toast.”
“Zhang Yangqing’s all about fairness. Challenge him, and the result’s always the same.”
“Fox-girl, why’d you have to provoke him? You’re not even in his league.”
“If King Zhou had been this decisive, the Zhou Dynasty would’ve been history!”
Though no one understood how Zhang Yangqing had nullified the instant-death effect, his display earned widespread admiration.
Back on Dragon Tiger Mountain, Zhang Xuanjing exhaled in relief.
Just as he was about to speak, he noticed Su Muyu’s dark expression.
He promptly shut his mouth. Better not poke the bear right now.
Su Muyu was furious—Zhang Yangqing’s little act had given him a scare.
Oh, you like acting, do you? Wait till you get back—I’ll teach you a lesson!
Inside the Ghost Stories World, the explosion had drawn attention, but the prison officer shooed everyone away.
Far from being angry about the destruction, he was delighted.
Their goal was to wreck Paradise, after all.
With a powerhouse like this on their side, he’d beg for help if he had to.
As for why the prison staff wanted Paradise destroyed, most contestants hadn’t had time to ponder it.
But Zhang Yangqing had pieced together part of the puzzle.
The midway stop between prison and Paradise was a ruined futuristic city.
According to the snake-eyed lackey’s intel, it had been destroyed in a resource war. The prison staff were likely the defeated side—or their descendants.
The “prison” was essentially exile.
They’d been training mutated powerhouses in secret, waiting to dismantle Paradise’s defenses and unleash the invasive plants to cleanse the world.
Contestants had been dragged into this apocalyptic conflict.
That was Zhang Yangqing’s rough theory. Their grudges didn’t concern him—he just needed to complete the mission.
But first, he had unfinished business.
Casually, he said to the prison officer: “This wristband doesn’t really match my outfit, does it?”
The officer broke out in a cold sweat.
He knew exactly what this meant: The boss doesn’t want to wear it anymore.
One wrong word, and he’d be joining the fox warrior in the afterlife.
Forcing a smile, he replied: “Y-You’re absolutely right. It clashes with your aura. I’ll remove it right away.”
Normally, the wristbands were kept on to prevent rebellion or desertion.
But since they clearly didn’t work on him, why bother?
Zhang Yangqing had only ten minutes of invincibility left. His request was purely to eliminate future risks.
He’d phrased it politely, but if the officer refused, no one in this building would survive.
You won’t take it off? Fine. I’ll do it myself—and you won’t like my methods.
The officer pulled out a special controller, input a command, and the wristband snapped open, clattering to the floor.
So far, Zhang Yangqing was the only contestant to have his removed.
His success gave the others hope.
The snake-eyed lackey immediately piped up: “Officer, this wristband’s too heavy. It’s affecting my quality of life. Mind taking it off?”
The officer hurried over. “Of course! Right away.”
As Zhang Yangqing’s underling, the lackey wasn’t someone to cross.
No one wanted to live with a remote-controlled bomb on their wrist.
Call it “a fox borrowing a tiger’s might,” and the lackey would proudly agree: Damn right I am.
His excuse was flimsy, but the message was clear.
Though annoyed, the officer complied—though without the same groveling respect he’d shown Zhang Yangqing.
But what happened next made the officer’s face darken.
Seeing the lackey succeed, the other inmates followed suit.
“Officer, my wristband clashes with my pants.”
“Officer, mine doesn’t match my skin tone.”
“Officer, mine gets in the way when I pick my nose.”
The prison officer’s expression turned murderous. If Zhang Yangqing weren’t here, I’d execute you all on the spot.
These six-star nobodies had no right to make demands.
But with Zhang Yangqing present, he had no choice.
The inmates were taking “basking in reflected glory” to new heights.
Their excuses grew increasingly absurd.
Watching the officer’s stifled rage as he reluctantly freed them, the inmates gloated inwardly.
Call us dogs riding on someone else’s power—but at least we have someone to ride. Do you?
Truth be told, being a dog wasn’t so bad.
Just look at the snake-eyed lackey—see how far he’s climbed!
