“Dang it…”
“Damn it…”
Zhang Shan and Qiao Jiajin were instantly overwhelmed by the excruciating pain, their minds blank. Though they could still feel their legs, all they registered was a heart-stabbing agony.
Nearby, residual sparks of electricity crackled, forcing the two to grit their teeth and crawl in opposite directions.
As he dragged himself toward the edge of the room, Qiao Jiajin said with a serious expression, “Big guy, take your time recovering… I’m a bit tired, gonna rest over there first.”
“Tattoo boy, don’t run off… Damn it…” Zhang Shan was drenched in sweat from the pain. His *Tian Xing Jian* took several seconds longer than usual to kick in and begin healing him. “Where the hell are you gonna rest in a place this small?”
The two felt their legs gradually regain sensation from complete numbness, but the recovery process still brought waves of sharp pain.
“Dang it… I kinda miss ‘not feeling pain’ now…” Qiao Jiajin muttered.
Zhang Shan, meanwhile, sensed that his *Tian Xing Jian* was working slower than usual—likely because the damage to his legs was far worse than he’d imagined.
Both legs had been reduced to charred husks. Flesh, blood, and bones alike had been scorched, making recovery far more difficult than normal.
But what the hell had just happened?
Qinglong had been fine one moment, then suddenly dropped *Soul Snatcher* on his own… Was there a limit to his ability? Could he not sustain two *Echoes* at once?
The two crawled toward the walls and turned back, only to see Qinglong standing motionless, his entire body pitch-black and wreathed in dark gray smoke.
Had they not dodged at the last second, they’d be the ones charred to a crisp right now.
“Big guy…” Qiao Jiajin leaned against the wall, his forehead slick with sweat, and spoke through gritted teeth, “Quick, quick—go kick him. Little Green looks like he’d shatter with one hit.”
“Damn it…” Zhang Shan propped himself up, his face twisting in pain. “Why don’t you kick him?”
“I need to rest.”
The smoke around Qinglong thickened, and his body began to tremble slightly—his recovery was accelerating.
Qiao Jiajin glanced at his own legs. Zhang Shan was clearly channeling his *conviction* with everything he had, as both feet were slowly regenerating.
If things kept going like this…
“Dang it…” Qiao Jiajin froze. “Big guy… something’s not right.”
“What’s not right?” Zhang Shan said. “We’re recovering… Just hold on a little longer…”
“No, no, no…” Qiao Jiajin struggled to move, his voice strained. “Big guy… We can’t recover like this… If this keeps up, we’re both dead.”
“Then what do we do?”
“Stop healing the other leg…” Qiao Jiajin stared at his legs. “Focus on just one. We’ll be faster than him that way.”
Zhang Shan blinked. “Heal just one leg? What’re you planning?”
“I’m gonna kick him.”
“Huh?” Zhang Shan was baffled. “Wait… What do you mean, ‘kick him’?”
Qiao Jiajin looked at him with utmost seriousness. After a few seconds of silence, he gestured and explained, “‘Kicking’ means I lift my leg, power it with my thigh, swing my knee to move my shin, and then make contact with Little Green’s ass using my foot to inflict some damage.”
“Are you always this insufferable?” Zhang Shan scowled.
“Yeah, I get hit a lot.”
Though exasperated by Qiao Jiajin’s logic, Zhang Shan knew they had no time to waste. He immediately refocused his *conviction* entirely on his right leg. At this point, he could only hope Qiao Jiajin actually had some kind of one-legged fighting technique up his sleeve.
Sure enough, their left legs slowed in recovery while their right legs visibly regenerated at a rapid pace. Flesh regrew, tendons rewoven like writhing worms beneath the skin, and an unnatural pain spread through their right limbs.
Gritting through the pain, Qiao Jiajin took the chance to study Qinglong.
This room didn’t seem to have any “brains” lying around. Trying to defeat a monster even more terrifying than the *Terminator* with just “fists” felt a little inadequate.
“Wait…” Qiao Jiajin’s mind raced, and he realized something.
Why had Qinglong been so willing to let lightning strike his entire body…?
Did he not have “eyes” on his back?
During the fight with Xuanwu, it had been the same—Qiao Jiajin hadn’t seen the end of that battle, but Qinglong had fought like a rabid beast, completely disregarding his own weak points and even the locations of his injuries.
Given how things looked now… Qinglong must’ve walked away unscathed, right?
“This is getting tricky…”
Noticing his foot and calf had fully regenerated, Qiao Jiajin seized the moment to test his upper body’s mobility.
Earlier, the two had thrown everything they had at Qinglong, yet he’d effortlessly countered every move. His strikes were all aimed at fatal blows—something no ordinary boxing or martial arts training would ever teach.
Just as he’d said himself, his killing skills had been honed through countless real battles. Now, combined with his *Echo*, he could unleash a variety of lethal attacks. If they didn’t shatter him now, the fight would only get harder.
The two watched as Qinglong’s recovery strategy diverged from theirs.
Instead of focusing on a single limb, he was regenerating his entire body piece by piece—patches of healthy flesh appearing across his limbs, torso, and head like white ink spreading over black paper.
“Dang it, he looks like a Dalmatian…”
One of Qinglong’s eyes had now reformed, scanning the room. His body still couldn’t move, and his mouth hadn’t fully recovered, but at this rate, it wouldn’t be long before they were completely at his mercy.
He wasn’t aiming for *parts*—he wanted a fully operational *whole*.
“Dang it… Hurry, hurry…” Qiao Jiajin forced himself up against the wall, wincing in pain. “Big guy… Don’t space out… Focus! Is my thigh really that hard to fix?”
“Damn it… You’re asking too much… This is my first time healing injuries like this…” Zhang Shan shut his eyes, pouring every ounce of his *conviction* into the task.
He wanted to win. Every failure he’d endured, every corpse he’d seen across two cities—it was all for this moment of victory.
In an instant, Qiao Jiajin’s thigh regenerated completely, strength flooding back into it.
He crouched slightly, testing his right leg, and a plan formed in his mind.
If it were any other strategy, he might’ve been clueless. But when it came to fighting? This was going to be one hell of a surprise.
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