Chapter 07
Plot twist?
The young man's face twisted with anger as he spat out, "Impudent," witnessing Jon's brazenness.
Jon, fueled by rage and desperation, prepared to charge. "Aaaaaargh!" His scream slicing through the tense atmosphere.
Huo Zheng tried to intervene, shouting, "Jon Li, don't!" But it was too late. Jon had already propelled himself toward the young man, tears of fury and frustration blurring his vision.
However, in a sudden twist of strategy, Jon veered sharply to the right, sprinting toward the first door he saw. He might have been furious, but foolish he was not; he knew an outright attack on the young cultivator was suicide. His enhanced body lent him speed, but against such a formidable opponent, cunning was his real weapon.
As expected, one of the cultivators, clearly less powerful than their leader, intercepted Jon. The man positioned himself confidently, smirking, ready to seize Jon and end his futile escape.
But Jon had anticipated this. His eyes locked with the man's, a smirk playing on his lips, signaling the impending doom he was about to unleash. As the cultivator reached out to grab him, Jon ducked low in a swift, fluid motion, coiling his strength.
With a triumphant yell, Jon unleashed his improvised move, "Ultimate Dragon Nutcracker Punch!" His fist rocketed upwards, connecting with the cultivator's groin with all the force his enhanced physique could muster.
The impact was immediate and devastating. The cultivator's eyes widened in shock, the realization of what was happening dawning on him too late. His face contorted in agony, a silent plea in his eyes seeming to say, "Oh, no." But Jon’s expression, a mix of grim satisfaction and defiance, replied, "Oh, yes."
In excruciating slow motion, the cultivator crumpled to the ground, convulsing in violent agony as Jon sprinted past him, his butt facing his opponents, laughter echoing behind him.
Jon's brief triumph was abruptly cut short when he felt a force, like an invisible hand, push against the back of his head. His body hurtled forward, uncontrollably accelerating toward his intended target, only to meet the door with a brutal, face-first impact. The collision sent him reeling, nearly unconscious, his head throbbing with an intense pain that threatened to engulf his senses.
Lying there, dazed and disoriented, Jon felt a wave of terror surge through him, bitterly regretting his earlier bravado. The realization hit him as hard as the wall had: I just broke a fucking wall with my face, he thought with a blend of horror and disbelief.
Struggling to his feet, Jon felt the unmistakable wetness of blood streaming down from his nose, the sharp pain indicating it was probably broken. His vision swam as he tried to focus, and every breath through his nose was a cacophony of pain and the coppery taste of blood.
Standing before him, relaxed and towering, was the young cultivator, his hand still extended from the force he had projected to accelerate Jon's unintended collision. The young man now seemed larger, more imposing than Jon had initially perceived. "This is bad..." Jon managed to gasp out, the words muffled by his swollen, bloodied face.
"It is quite bad, indeed," the young man responded coolly, his eyes devoid of amusement as he looked down at Jon. In the background, the muffled groans of the cultivator Jon had incapacitated with his unconventional attack provided a surreal soundtrack to the unfolding drama.
Jon spat out a mouthful of blood and managed to say, "You broke my nose, man."
The young man replied coolly, "You ended Sung Ming's bloodline. I believe that is not even fair enough."
Glancing at the cultivator named Sung Ming, who was still writhing in pain, Jon couldn't suppress a smile. Despite the grim situation, he thought, At least I managed to ruin one of their lives.
The young cultivator's voice cut through Jon's bitter satisfaction. "Is this a laughing matter to you?"
"Well, I gotta say, 'Ultimate Dragon Nutcracker Punch' is a pretty funny name," Jon retorted, trying to maintain some semblance of defiance.
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The young man sighed, a mixture of frustration and disbelief in his expression. "There seems to be no limit to your groundless bravado."
Jon, wiping blood from his face, got into a makeshift boxing stance. "I have no clothes, no weapon, no money. My bravado's the only thing left. Come and get it, pretty boy."
Just as the young man’s irritation seemed to peak and he was about to respond, Huo Zheng's voice thundered through the garden, breaking the tension. "Chun Liang! Stop this at once!"
The young cultivator, identified now as Chun Liang, turned toward the sound, his expression shifting from anger to surprise at Huo Zheng’s intervention.
Chun Liang’s gaze locked onto Huo Zheng with a fury that belied his outward calm. "What do you think you're doing, monk?!" he demanded, his voice laced with barely contained rage.
The surrounding cultivators instinctively stepped back from Huo Zheng, sensing the shift in the air. Jon's eyes widened in shock as he watched Huo Zheng drive his thumb into his own chest, where the flesh seemed to yield unnaturally. A soft white light traced the paths of his veins, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, yet his smile was serene, almost defiant. He was getting bigger and bigger, as if his previous slender frame had been a lie all along.
"Your fight is with me, not him," Huo Zheng announced to the cultivators, his voice steady even as his eyes began to glow, the pupils lost in the increasing radiance.
Jon was speechless, realization dawning on him with cold clarity. Huo Zheng was initiating a self-destructive technique, a last stand of sorts. "Hey man, you don't have to do that," Jon protested, retreating as the energy emanating from Huo Zheng grew more intense, the air around him vibrating with the force of his unleashed Qi.
In a split second, as Chun Liang turned his attention back to Jon, hand outstretched with a clear intent to strike, the air bristled with imminent danger. Jon, caught off guard, could only brace for the impact. Yet, in a display of almost supernatural speed, Huo Zheng intercepted, placing himself between Jon and Chun Liang. A fierce gust of wind and a cloud of dust erupted in the wake of his movement, signaling the immense power unleashed.
"You dare!" Chun Liang exclaimed, his voice filled with fury, as he found his hand ensnared in Huo Zheng's unyielding grip. The struggle between the two was palpable, with Chun Liang visibly straining to free himself from the monk's hold.
The scene was electric, charged with the raw display of Huo Zheng's strength and speed. Jon was thrown back, tumbling to the ground from the sheer force emanating from the encounter, the sound of Huo Zheng’s movement reaching him only after the monk had already intervened. "What the fuck..." Jon managed to say, his mind reeling from the swift and decisive action.
The surrounding cultivators were alarmed, their blades unsheathed, their faces reflecting the sudden shift in the power dynamic. Chun Liang’s usual composure cracked under the unexpected challenge, his efforts to break free from Huo Zheng's grasp growing more frantic.
In a blur of motion too rapid for Jon to fully comprehend, Huo Zheng unleashed a strike that sent Chun Liang hurtling across the immense garden, a distance of at least 200 meters. The force of the blow was monumental, its impact resonating through the ground, causing a palpable vibration underfoot.
The cultivators around them screamed in unison, "Young master!" as Chun Liang vanished into the rubble and dust raised by his violent trajectory. Jon, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, watched the scene unfold with a mix of horror and awe. He had read about such epic confrontations in the xianxia tales of his youth, yet witnessing such a display of raw, unbridled power in reality was entirely different.
The experience was shocking, almost visceral in its intensity, transcending anything Jon had ever imagined. The only comparison that came to mind was the overwhelming sensation of standing near a powerful combat aircraft as it roared past, the sound and shockwaves buffeting the body. Yet even that analogy fell short of capturing the sheer magnitude of the moment, a clear demonstration of the scales of power at play in this world, which were beyond anything Jon had ever encountered or could have prepared for.
Huo Zheng, his attention split between the cultivators readying themselves for a possible assault and the injured Chun Liang being attended by his comrades, turned slightly towards Jon. "My benefactor, may I ask you a question?" His voice held an earnest seriousness that demanded attention.
Jon, still reeling from the events unfolding before him, managed only a nod, too shocked to articulate words.
Huo Zheng, without needing to see Jon's response, seemed to sense his agreement and continued. "He called you 'summoned.' Are you perhaps from... another world?"
Jon's answer came out in a hesitant stutter, "Y-yes..."
Huo Zheng sighed, a sound heavy with implication. "I see. That indeed explains a lot of things." His words carried a weight that suggested a deeper understanding of the situation.
Jon sensed he would have bristled at such a remark under normal circumstances, feeling it belittling or dismissive, but the gravity of the current situation left little room for such feelings.
"It seems they succeeded," Huo Zheng mused, almost to himself. Jon wanted to inquire further, to grasp the full meaning of these cryptic revelations, but before he could frame his question, Huo Zheng spoke again, urgency coloring his tone. "In that case, you must absolutely not fall into their hands."
Suddenly, Jon felt a force lifting him, propelling him upwards, his feet leaving the ground involuntarily. The next thing he knew, Huo Zheng’s hand was clasping his neck, holding him aloft with an ease that belied his earlier injuries.
Jon, taken aback and unable to break free, gasped out, "W-what ar- yo do-..?" The fear and confusion were palpable in his voice, his previous bravado dissolved into the cold, hard reality of his vulnerability in Huo Zheng’s iron grip.