Zhang Shan naturally paid no attention to the minor pain, keeping his eyes fixed solely on Qiao Jiajin’s hands and feet.
Qiao Jiajin was too agile, making it impossible for Zhang Shan to predict which limb would strike next. He could only protect his chin while constantly sizing up his opponent.
Slowly, Qiao Jiajin inched forward until they were within striking distance—yet neither threw the first punch.
This ruleless death match made both fighters exceptionally cautious.
Throwing the first punch could grant an advantage, but it also risked leaving an opening.
Qiao Jiajin twitched his right fist slightly, and Zhang Shan’s head instinctively tilted half an inch to the right.
Zhang Shan responded with a feinted kick, prompting Qiao Jiajin to immediately retreat half a step.
Even a feint was enough to make the other dodge—if either committed to an actual strike, the chance of being countered was dangerously high.
Yet their steps kept closing the distance. Within moments, their hands nearly brushed against each other.
Zhang Shan’s gaze turned icy as he suddenly jerked his left fist. Qiao Jiajin, expecting an attack, raised his right arm to block—falling right into Zhang Shan’s trap.
Seizing the opening at Qiao Jiajin’s ribs, Zhang Shan swung his leg for a kick.
But Qiao Jiajin reacted instantly. Realizing the left punch was a feint, he lowered his right hand and intercepted Zhang Shan’s low kick. The moment he did, he noticed the kick was weak—hardly any force behind it.
Clearly, Zhang Shan’s attack wasn’t over. His left leg was yet another feint. Sure enough, in the next instant, Zhang Shan switched legs, planting his left foot while borrowing the momentum from Qiao Jiajin’s push to launch a sweeping right kick.
It happened in a flash—both moves executed in the blink of an eye. Qiao Jiajin knew he was about to take the hit. His entire center of gravity was committed to blocking the left kick, leaving him no time to defend against the right.
But if Zhang Shan’s sweeping kick landed… would he even be able to continue fighting?
This battle wasn’t just about technique—it demanded instinct.
In that split second, Qiao Jiajin emptied his mind. His knee instinctively rose, curling upward. Though his reaction was delayed, his knee lifted just in time to collide with Zhang Shan’s leg, locking them in a half-second stalemate where neither could advance.
A moment later, both lowered their legs and simultaneously threw jabs—only to block each other’s strikes.
Qiao Jiajin knew Zhang Shan had a longer reach, so close-quarters opportunities were rare. Refusing to back down, he blocked the jab and pressed in, unleashing a rapid series of hooks aimed at Zhang Shan’s face.
Zhang Shan stood his ground, deflecting what he could and absorbing the rest, countering with hooks of his own. But Qiao Jiajin was too agile—at such close range, he abandoned blocking entirely, relying solely on evasion.
Realizing Qiao Jiajin was nearly in his embrace, leaving him no room to dodge or block the next strike, Zhang Shan grabbed the back of Qiao Jiajin’s hair and yanked his head down while driving his knee upward.
If that knee struck his nose, Qiao Jiajin knew he’d be out of the fight. He crossed his arms and forced them downward, bracing against Zhang Shan’s thigh with all his strength.
Zhang Shan attempted two more knee strikes, but Qiao Jiajin’s defense held. Changing tactics, Zhang Shan yanked Qiao Jiajin’s hair back, exposing his face, then leaned back before thrusting forward—aiming a devastating headbutt at his nose.
Shocked by Zhang Shan’s monstrous strength, Qiao Jiajin couldn’t break free in time. As the headbutt came crashing down, he transformed his fist into an open palm and shoved upward against Zhang Shan’s chin.
A loud crack echoed as Zhang Shan staggered back, releasing his grip and swaying unsteadily.
Without pause, Qiao Jiajin dashed forward, leaped, and unleashed the “Heart-Piercing Elbow” from Bajiquan—aimed straight at Zhang Shan’s defenseless chest.
This was a move too lethal for street fights—light injuries could knock someone unconscious; severe ones could kill.
Yet even as Zhang Shan stumbled backward with his eyes closed, his instincts seemed to sense the danger. He raised his arms just in time to block his chest, barely deflecting the blow but still collapsing under the impact. He rolled and sprang back to his feet.
Only then did Qiao Jiajin remember—
During their time as teammates in the “Earth Tiger” game, they had witnessed Kung Fu Girl use this very move.
He had learned how to execute it—but Zhang Shan had learned how to counter it.
Qiao Jiajin silently acknowledged that his opponent’s last-second instincts made him a formidable adversary.
Though they had only fought for a little over a minute, both were already panting. Standing apart, neither made the next move.
In a battle demanding every nerve to be razor-sharp, the slightest lapse could mean death. The relentless tension and the intensity of their exchanges left them needing a moment to breathe.
But in those brief clashes, Qiao Jiajin had noticed something.
Zhang Shan’s combat knowledge was largely military-trained—stronger than most civilians but inferior to Qiao Jiajin, who had spent years in street brawls and underground fights.
Even with countless techniques in his mind, Zhang Shan had to think before acting. Meanwhile, though Qiao Jiajin had lost his peak physique, his instincts remained. Many movements were reflexive—a potential lifesaver.
Zhang Shan, too, had settled on a strategy.
Something was off with Qiao Jiajin—his strength had drastically diminished. His agility and combat IQ were still top-tier, but his power was lacking.
Victory, then, lay in overpowering him. No matter how skilled Qiao Jiajin was, raw strength could neutralize technique. If he could break one of Qiao Jiajin’s limbs, the match would be his.
Taking deep breaths, Qiao Jiajin bounced lightly on his feet, ready for the next round.
“Alright, punk—my turn now,” Zhang Shan said.
“Bring it.”
Zhang Shan raised his fists and began marching forward with heavy strides.
Qiao Jiajin knew a single solid hit would mean defeat, so he matched Zhang Shan’s advance with retreat.
But after a few steps, he realized the danger—this wasn’t a ring. If he was cornered, he’d have nowhere to go. Planting his feet, he stood his ground as Zhang Shan closed in.
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