Chapter 62 Not a Single One Can Fight

Until the referee announced the final verdict of the arena match, a lingering silence hung both inside and outside the ring.

It was simply too fast!

Whether from the start or to the finish, everything happened in a flash.

As one of the star fighters of Fusheng Building, Song Ren commanded a substantial amount of attention. Naturally, this weapon-based match was something everyone had been eagerly anticipating. Because prior to this, he had never once participated in a weapon bout.

Everyone only knew how fierce he was with bare fists and feet. Since this was his first time competing with weapons, it inevitably drew even more curious eyes.

Yet no one expected that for his debut weapon match, he would present the audience with a gold-inlaid tiger-head spear that utterly crushed his opponent.

The entire affair took roughly three seconds from beginning to end.

In fact, some unlucky spectator had yawned right before the match started, and by the time they lowered their gaze, Valerio was already kneeling.

Damn it!

Why on earth was that big block of a man like a black bear so utterly useless?

That was the collective cry in the hearts of countless viewers.

...

In the stands, a wealthy high-roller who had hired Golden Shield Security and was on good terms with Song Ren couldn't help laughing heartily and shouting out in playful banter:

"Ah-Ren, you could at least have held back a little!"

"Pulling a stunt like this leaves us with zero anticipation for the rest of the matches!"

Song Ren placed the gold-inlaid tiger-head spear back onto the weapon rack, turned his head, and replied, "Was that not holding back?"

A wave of uproarious laughter instantly erupted from the spectator seats surrounding the stage.

Most of these people recognized Ah-Ren, the most prominent figure at Fusheng Building lately, and quite a few had even become clients of Golden Shield Security.

Hearing Song Ren's response, a chorus of humorous complaints immediately rang out:

"Ah-Ren, I just went to the restroom, and when I came back, you were already out of the ring. You're breaking my heart here."

"And here I was worrying that you might stumble in a weapon fight. Turns out we were all just needlessly stressing over nothing."

"You little punk, Ah-Ren, I blinked with a yawn and it was already over. I specifically came here just to watch you!"

"Ah-Ren, tickets for tonight's show are bloody expensive, you know! Could you pace yourself a bit?"

"That foreign bloke looked fierce as hell, I genuinely thought he'd last a while longer. I just looked down to answer a phone call, and when I looked back up, he was already playing dead. How can this useless punk be so weak?!"

The lively commotion from the stands also caused the expressions of everyone in the fighters' lounge below to shift dramatically.

Although they all knew Song Ren enjoyed immense popularity at Fusheng Building, none of them had imagined—until seeing him interact directly—that these elite figures, usually so aloof and unapproachable outside, would chat with him so casually.

Bloody hell, these people acted like emperors looking down on mere mortals when facing them.

Yet right in front of Song Ren, they acted like devoted sycophants.

The fighters turned slightly green with envy.

"Can't be helped," Song Ren said, offering a helpless shrug toward the stands before asking with a gentle smile:

"If I were to say that not a single person present is capable of taking me on, would you all think I'm being too arrogant?"

As his voice trailed off, another wave of roaring laughter swept across the stands.

"As expected of Ah-Ren! I just love this attitude of yours!"

"Ah-Ren, as long as you're in the ring, I'm backing you all the way!"

"Ah-Ren, you definitely need to be even more arrogant!"

Up in the VIP rooms, by contrast with the lively, interactive atmosphere down below, the top-tier tycoons seated or standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows inexplicably felt a pang of envy toward those ordinary spectators.

Gazing at the unhurried man down below, whose eyes radiated absolute serenity, many in the VIP rooms were utterly captivated, completely spellbound by the fatal charm seemingly radiating from every fiber of Song Ren's being.

Inside a private lounge...

Cai Shuangyu looked down from her vantage point, her pupils reflecting the figure of Song Ren.

The gold-inlaid tiger-head spear...

She never expected him to be so exquisitely skilled in the realm of weapon combat as well!

Li Yuyao pressed closely against the windowpane, her breath trembling slightly as she spoke:

"Shuangyu, did you know?"

"That spear—that spear was forged by someone I commissioned for him."

Cai Shuangyu arched a brow. "And? Feeling proud of yourself?"

Li Yuyao raised her chin. "Of course! It gives me such a wonderful sense of involvement. Oh, just thinking about moments ago makes me feel all floaty. He was just too dashing!"

Cai Shuangyu sneered, "Wipe that infatuated look off your face."

"I admit those few moves just now were indeed rather interesting."

"But in the realm of weapon fighting, those techniques amount to nothing more than basic spearwork. It's just that he wields them with exceptional fluidity."

Li Yuyao let out a scoff. "Shuangyu, why do I suddenly smell vinegar in the air?"

Cai Shuangyu fixed her with a death glare: "..."

Li Yuyao acted as though she hadn't noticed. "You're just jealous of me, aren't you? Jealous that I was the one who helped him get that gold-inlaid tiger-head spear crafted."

Cai Shuangyu: "..."

In truth, she did feel a slight trace of it.

Unlike amateurs, she knew a masterpiece when she saw one.

That gold-inlaid tiger-head spear, entirely metallic in construction, must have been astonishingly heavy.

This particular match might not have fully showcased the true might of Song Ren's spear, but Cai Shuangyu had a premonition that the weapon was destined to shine brilliantly.

Simply because its master was Song Ren.

...

Back in the fighters' lounge...

He Ping felt his entire body go numb. He had originally assumed that weapon combat would be one of Song Ren's weak points.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he could salvage a bit of his dignity in this arena match.

Yet who would have guessed that Song Ren would stride out wielding a two-and-a-half-meter gold-inlaid tiger-head spear?

Although the Liuhe great spear He Ping used was even longer, the Liuhe spear had a wooden shaft; even after undergoing numerous rounds of processing, it fell far short in terms of sheer weight.

The overall oppressive aura and the difficulty of handling it were vastly inferior.

How on earth was anyone supposed to fight that?!

Go out there just to be beaten to a pulp?

There were quite a few people sharing similar thoughts.

Park Jung-shin, in particular, who had previously worn an air of arrogant confidence, now had a face as dark as charcoal.

His most prideful weapon, the rapier—with its 1.2-meter blade and weight of just over two pounds—allowed him to execute his specialized combat techniques to absolute perfection.

And it had indeed performed that way in his first match.

However, ever since seeing He Ping's Liuhe great spear in the second match, his eyelid had been twitching incessantly.

Against a Liuhe spear over three meters long, the rapier's inherent characteristics put it at a severe disadvantage.

As a thrusting weapon, the rapier excelled primarily at stabs.

While slashing attacks were possible, the slender blade lacked the mass to maximize cutting force, making it terribly awkward to face a spear.

And then, when Song Ren pulled out a gold-inlaid tiger-head spear...

Park Jung-shin felt his face turn pitch black. An all-metal gold-inlaid tiger-head spear, two and a half meters in length!

Was this guy cheating?!

How on earth was anyone supposed to swing a thing like that? Given his own physique, he couldn't even picture the mechanics in his head!

Yet having witnessed it with his own eyes left him gasping for breath.

The principle that "every inch of length brings an inch of advantage" might not be absolute, but it certainly held grains of truth.

Park Jung-shin glanced down at his rapier, and whatever lingering conceit remained in his heart vanished completely.

From here on out, every single opponent was bound to be a formidable monster.

As Song Ren walked back into the fighters' lounge, the surrounding competitors—who had already been paying him immense attention—mostly cast furtive, sidelong glances in his direction.

These fellows had originally hoped to take advantage of the weapon combat round.

Alas, the freak who was already monstrous enough with bare hands seemed even more terrifyingly lethal with a weapon.

There was simply no justice in the world!