Chapter 373: Chapter 373

Between a plucked chicken and a python tens of meters long, the winner was clear at a glance. Especially since the fat chicken had been deprived of all weapons; even Hand Grenades were forbidden. What abilities did the fat chicken have left?

This round would be devoid of any suspense! The python would win!

The fat chicken was about to see its nine-win streak end at the ninth match, just short of ten.

At this point, aside from Jing Shu, even the Chinese who had bet on the fat chicken felt the match was a foregone conclusion, to say nothing of the Black Market staff. Foreigners could be incredibly shameless in this regard, a fact evident from past sports meets and various gymnastics competitions. Whenever the Chinese demonstrated an ability other countries couldn’t replicate, those countries would ban the move or modify the rules to their own advantage.

But true masters will always prevail.

"Looks one isn’t winning the ninth round," the man said to the woman, his warm breath caressing her as his tongue lightly licked Pei Qi’s cheek.

Pei Qi chuckled. "Not necessarily. Let’s see what kind of witchcraft she’ll use. There’s an old Chinese saying: ’Know your enemy and know yourself, and you can fight a hundred battles without defeat.’ This round will show us what she’s really capable of. Then we’ll know how to deal with her in the tenth."

"The Black Market’s fiercest python is already in play. What animal do you have for the tenth round?"

Pei Qi smiled without answering, saying instead, "You’re tickling me. Perhaps... mm-hmm?"

"I am at your service, my esteemed lady."

The battle—hailed as one beyond even a miracle’s salvation—between the fighting chicken and the Black Market’s trump card python finally began! Deploying the Black Market’s trump card clearly crossed a line for the Black Market. This attracted many Nobles, who placed numerous bets, even within their own circles.

"It’s time to put an end to this absurd fight."

The python emerged. The scent of blood excited it, and it swayed its body, rapidly slithering forward. Its head was almost as large as the entire fat chicken. The audience speculated how many seconds it would take to finish off the fat chicken.

The lone chicken stood trembling in the center of the arena. Oh, this master of mine, always setting me up! it thought. But then it remembered the delicious snake soup. Its master had promised that if it won, the entire snake head would be braised for it! This thought filled the fat chicken with fighting spirit!

"Now we can see the python charging towards its target! Oh, look, the chicken has finally started running! I thought it was just a daft bird that wouldn’t even try to flee. Without the aid of its weapons, it’s finally showing fear," the host lamented, his hopes for the fat chicken’s victory dwindling.

The python opened its bloodstained maw, casting a shadow that completely enveloped the fat chicken.

It’s over! That was the thought on everyone’s mind.

But at that moment, the fat chicken made a move that baffled everyone.

Before fluttering its wings to escape, the fat chicken spat vigorously at the python twice. Then, like a surprisingly agile, plump creature, it flapped its wings and flew to the edge of the cage.

"Oh my God, what is this chicken doing? Its speed is surprisingly fast, though! It actually dodged that strike! But what good will that do? Look, the python is after it again!" The host didn’t understand the fat chicken’s actions, and the audience was nearly rolling on the floor with laughter.

If the previous eight matches had been oppressively tense, this one was proving to be thrillingly cathartic.

"Is this chicken trying to kill me with laughter? It’s actually spitting at the massive python."

"Haha, it thinks its saliva is some kind of biochemical poison."

"But the truth was, the python seemed completely unaffected and continued its pursuit."

Soon, the fat chicken and the python were locked in a bitter struggle—or rather, the fat chicken was being relentlessly pursued by the python all over the cage. The python was enormous and incredibly fast, leaving the fat chicken with no choice but to flee reactively, occasionally fluttering to the top of the cage to dodge the python’s ferocious attacks.

But this cage was practically the python’s domain; it had often hunted various animals here. So, no matter where the fat chicken fluttered, the python could swiftly slither over and launch a fierce attack.

Each encounter was a hair’s breadth from disaster, the python nearly swallowing the chicken whole time and again.

The audience and the Nobles roared with excitement and anticipation—this was the kind of spectacle the Duel Arena was meant to deliver! This update ıs available on 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚⚫𝙣𝙚𝙩

The only strange thing was, why did the chicken keep spitting?

The audience cheered relentlessly for the python, and the gamblers who had bet on it were already planning their celebratory steak dinners. But for some unknown reason, the python’s movements grew increasingly sluggish.

The host noticed something was amiss. "What’s wrong with the python?" he wondered aloud. "It seems exhausted. But I’ve personally seen it spend hours constricting a wild buffalo to death!"

The audience also quickly realized something was wrong. A moment later, the colossal python suddenly dropped from the iron bars of the cage to the ground with a THUD, motionless as if dead.

The spectators erupted in confused curses. What in the world is happening?

However, a few seconds later, the sound of the python snoring echoed through the arena. It’s... it’s asleep? How can it fall asleep in the middle of a match? Wake up, you fool! This is a life-or-death battle!

The fat chicken spat at the python one last time. "HUH... PTOOEY!" Seeing no reaction, it confidently strutted over and began to peck fiercely at the python’s eyes...

"Oh, damn it, get up!"

"How can it sleep while it’s being pecked to death? Doesn’t it feel any pain?"

The host exclaimed in astonishment, "Could this chicken’s saliva actually have an anesthetic effect? Did it knock out the entire python? So, was the fighting chicken just waiting for the anesthetic to kick in all along?"

Jing Shu nodded calmly. "A chicken can use its own abilities, right? Or are you planning to revise the rules again?" This was blatant mockery. The fat chicken, of course, possessed no such ability. Jing Shu had acquired the anesthetic from some robbers the previous New Year. She was currently lamenting the fact that she had just used up her entire supply.

After that, there was no suspense left. A sedated snake wouldn’t react even if its head were severed. The fat chicken started by pecking at the eyes, gradually eating the entire head clean. Soon, the python became a headless serpent, dying peacefully in its sleep. The fat chicken felt a pang of sadness; the snake head couldn’t be braised now.

Ninth battle: the fat chicken, using its bizarre ability, secured victory amidst a torrent of curses from the crowd! It was now just one step away from a ten-win streak! Jing Shu’s large sum of Black Market Coins was within easy reach.

"Oh my heavens, I can hardly believe a chicken possesses such a bizarre ability! After verification by Black Market personnel, who have taken samples and examined this chicken, this has been confirmed as fact! I must therefore announce that in the ninth battle, the fighting chicken wins!" the host declared excitedly.

Jing Shu laboriously dragged the headless snake out of the arena. The Duel Arena buzzed with all sorts of voices—curses, insults—but Jing Shu didn’t understand most of it and automatically filtered them out.

The Black Market had played its trump card. What would they dispatch to end her streak in the tenth match? Jing Shu eagerly awaited it.