Chapter 379: Chapter 379

What does this mean? Three people watching the show, and only one foolish monk with a stick steps up for a 1v6?

You must understand that fighting in the arena doesn’t restrict any weapons or even confine combatants to specific terrain. The arena isn’t a literal platform but rather a conceptual agreement. Once the match starts, both sides exploit their strengths. They might seek cover, launch terrorist-style attacks, engage in guerrilla warfare by throwing hand grenades, or even fire personal rocket launchers at each other without issue.

The more professional participants are, the more they value their lives. Simultaneously, their personal strength is formidable, so they can’t possibly be knocked out like cannon fodder. In today’s era of advanced weaponry, a life-and-death arena match between two teams hinges more on team configuration and firepower suppression. For instance, snipers in the rear eliminate the most threatening opponents, while frontline submachine guns and main machine gunners provide sweeping fire.

The Black Market team was equipped with two shield-bearers, one machine gunner, two submachine gunners, and one sniper. Firearms are legal in the United States, so people there rely more heavily on guns, and their firepower is indeed greater. Such a combination could easily wipe out any opposing team. They were truly a worthy A-class mercenary assault squad from the Black Market.

The rest, including Jing Shu, were moved to a cargo ship for safety. Bullets don’t discriminate, and the dock would soon become the battlefield. Competitors could fight in the water or on the shore, and mercenaries were free to use any underhanded tactics. This was the essence of a life-and-death arena match.

This was destined to be an earth-shattering battle!

However, only one of the four opponents stepped forward. The Black Market team felt this was a blatant provocation. They suspected the other side had a secret weapon, perhaps hand grenades or heavy weaponry. So, as the referee prepared to signal the start, their hands were already on their triggers, waiting for the command to riddle their opponents with bullets.

The setup for the arena match was still somewhat unreasonable. After all, on a real battlefield, no one shouts "start," nor does a referee declare the winner. The survivors are the victors.

The Monk took a deep breath, his chest heaving erratically. The moment the referee shouted "Start!" the Monk’s internal energy surged from his dantian. An immense amount of energy then erupted from his mouth in a long cry that thundered for miles, striking terror into the enemy, making their hearts falter and their hair stand on end.

The six opponents standing closest to him were hit hardest. Their hair was blasted upright, and their ears began to bleed on the spot. Even Jing Shu and the others on the cargo ship instinctively covered their ears, feeling the world spin around them.

"One of the secret and rare skills of Shaolin Temple: the Buddhist Lion Roar," Tan Ke said.

The roar subsided. Before the dazed opponents could recover, the Monk advanced, swinging his iron staff. He dispatched each one with a single, decisive blow, finishing the battle in under thirty seconds. Then, the Monk hurried back to eat his white rice. This update ıs available on 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⚫𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⚫𝕟𝕖𝕥

The atmosphere at the scene became eerily quiet. Everyone was stunned by this technique, especially those from the underground black market. For them, it was a nightmare.

Snake Spirit, on the other hand, scoffed and muttered quietly, "In Huaxia, that’s just A-class strength. What a fuss over nothing!"

This was the first time Jing Shu had witnessed the true strength of a Huaxia A-class fighter. Was it really so formidable?

George’s expression was grim. He had arranged for a team of mercenaries trained by the nobles. These mercenaries were in peak physical condition, selected from private bodyguards. He made a snap decision: everyone was to wear earplugs and cover their ears, specifically to counter the Monk’s Lion Roar. Furthermore, he gave a kill order: shoot anything they encountered without hesitation.

But he hadn’t expected this match to be over even more quickly.

A light drizzle had begun to fall, unnoticed and unheeded by anyone. When the referee announced the start, George’s mercenaries remained motionless, frozen in their original positions. Once again, it was the diligent Monk who effortlessly killed them all, one by one, with his staff. There was nothing wrong with these men; they were George’s confidants, and they certainly wouldn’t gamble with their own lives. The problem, then, must have been with their opponents.

Having lost two A-class mercenary teams from the underground black market in quick succession, George’s face was terrifyingly dark. The rules of the match were simple: any underhanded method could be employed. However, he couldn’t contend with an opponent who held all the power.

Snake Spirit patted George, whose face was still grim. "Let’s go to another arena."

This time, Huaxia had dispatched its absolute elite; the two sides weren’t even in the same league. Jing Shu and her team occupied another arena, where a different team from Sacramento came to challenge them. Although this fight wasn’t as extreme as the Monk’s 1v6, it was still one-sided. Tan Ke held a large shield at the front, while Snake Spirit’s mutated Little Python ambushed from the shadows. Moreover, anyone who dared show their face was instantly shot down by Lingling’s deadly aim.

The fight was a complete rout. Jing Shu and Little Black had hardly anything to do; they didn’t even enter the field. Lingling’s sniper rifle perfectly embodied the saying, "show your head and you’re dead." Snake Spirit, meanwhile, demonstrated the effectiveness of a mass venom attack, wiping out the entire enemy team in a single wave.

The enemy’s attempt to flank and provide covering fire was actually quite good, but they stood no chance against Lingling, who was equipped with night-vision goggles. Her skill with the sniper rifle had reached an exceptional level. Combined with her ability to target by sound and the night-vision goggles, she was truly formidable.

George wiped the sweat from his face, relieved that they had managed to defend one arena. Otherwise, they really wouldn’t have been able to leave tonight.

Tan Ke seemed to have understood the situation. "So," he said, "we defend one arena, Old Yang defends another, each representing our own factions. This way, it’s not a complete sweep, and it’s not like only one faction will remain in the end. Is that the idea?"

Snake Spirit clapped. "Not bad, you finally get it. But there’s probably more to it. It’s also about mutual attrition. This way, we can openly eliminate their mercenary teams, and they can openly eliminate ours, clearing obstacles for what’s to come."

Indeed, it was mutual slaughter. The killing would continue until the top mercenary teams of both factions were wiped out. And without their mercenaries, the nobles... Heh heh heh, they’d be nothing more than fattened sheep ripe for the slaughter, wouldn’t they?

Everything proceeded smoothly according to plan. Yang Yang effortlessly wiped out all the mercenaries from the underground black market. Meanwhile, Jing Shu’s side eliminated all the mercenaries on their opposing side. The small dock was soon littered with bodies, the air thick with the stench of blood.

An arrogant Tan Ke spat on the ground. "We’ve won three fights in total. Why don’t we go challenge the other arena? We’ve seen through their tactics."

But George stopped him. "My dear warriors, that’s enough. Securing the right to speak for one arena is sufficient. If we were to lose that, we’d lose all standing." Ultimately, George didn’t dare to take the risk, and both sides finalized the match results.

Meanwhile, Jing Shu and her team were invited to rest on a large cruise ship. "Damn it," George muttered, likely to an aide or himself, "I need to arrange for the others to board. They always have so much stuff to bring, and we’re running out of time."