The Earth Ox didn’t respond. Instead, it simply scanned the surviving participants before speaking with a hint of displeasure, “Nineteen ‘Dao’ per person. The game is over. Please come forward one by one to claim your ‘Dao.'”
Little Glasses glanced at Zhang Shan’s wound and couldn’t help but break into a cold sweat. “Zhang Shan… are you really okay?”
“Damn right I am,” Zhang Shan laughed, patting Little Glasses on the head. “What about you guys? You and Old Lü seem to be holding up well.”
“Ah—!” Little Glasses suddenly exclaimed. “Zhang Shan, speaking of Old Lü, there’s something I need to talk to you about…”
Old Lü, anxious, immediately crowded in front of Zhang Shan, flailing his arms. “Yeah, yeah! You gotta back me up on this!”
“Back you up? What happened?”
Seeing the three of them whispering, Qi Xia’s expression darkened. He turned to Lin Qin and asked, “What the hell happened over there?”
Lin Qin took a deep breath. “Honestly, I thought we were dead for sure…”
“Right…” Tian Tian chimed in beside her. “When the black bear came out, Lin Qin and I were so scared we couldn’t even stand.”
“And then?” Qiao Jiajin asked.
“Then…” Lin Qin blinked, trying to recall. “All I remember is that man named Zhang Shan shouting, ‘Get out of the way!’ before he lifted that iron plate and charged at the bear alone.”
“What?!” Qi Xia and Qiao Jiajin both gasped in unison.
“We didn’t dare to watch…” Lin Qin continued. “It was brutal. He pinned the bear down with the iron plate, straddled it, and just kept hammering its head. The whole place was covered in blood…”
“Damn… That’s some Terminator-level shit…” Qiao Jiajin gritted his teeth. “That big guy’s a beast.”
“He seemed to know the bear’s weak spots. The game wasn’t even over, but the bear was already beaten beyond recognition—its nose broken, teeth knocked out…” Lin Qin said.
Tian Tian added, “But Zhang Shan didn’t come out unscathed either. The bear fought back before it died, flipping the iron plate off and clawing at him. He was covered in blood, but luckily the bear collapsed within a minute. Thanks to him, the rest of us made it out alive…”
Hearing this, Qi Xia frowned. No wonder Tian Tian and Lin Qin thought they couldn’t win the game on their own.
In their arena, no one had used Qi Xia’s method to clear the challenge. Instead, someone had taken that heavy iron plate as a weapon and fought the bear head-on.
“In that case… why did it take you so long to come back?” Qiao Jiajin asked. “The game ended three or four minutes ago. Liar and I were about to prepare your funerals.”
“That’s even scarier…” Lin Qin pursed her lips, lowering her head. “After that big guy killed the bear, he suddenly said, ‘Haven’t eaten in days. Bear paws are a delicacy,’ and then ordered us to help him hack off the bear’s arms with the iron plate…”
“So those bear arms…” Qiao Jiajin started to say, only to see the big guy, Little Glasses, and Old Lü striding straight toward them.
All three had small cloth pouches tied to their waists—they’d clearly collected their “Dao.”
The leader, the big man, wore a cold expression, his eyes fixed on Qi Xia with unmistakable hostility.
“Yo…” Qiao Jiajin suddenly remembered Qi Xia’s “deal” with Little Glasses and realized things were about to go south. “Liar, what’s the plan?”
“The Matthew Effect…” Qi Xia muttered under his breath. “For to everyone who has, more will be given, and he will have abundance; but from him who has not, even what he has will be taken away.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Qi Xia didn’t answer. Instead, he subtly surveyed the surroundings, dragging a chair in front of himself to create distance.
Three other chairs were nearby. He glanced at them and noticed one was within easy reach—its legs nearly broken, perfect for a weapon.
The Minotaur was still ten steps away, too far to intervene immediately. Qi Xia knew that if things went smoothly, he could definitely take Zhang Shan down.
“No big deal…” Qi Xia gave Zhang Shan an icy stare. “He can kill a bear, but too bad—I’m not a bear.”
“What are you planning…?” Lin Qin sounded nervous.
Qiao Jiajin, too, watched the approaching trio with a serious expression, cracking his neck slightly.
The atmosphere grew tense, thick with the scent of gunpowder.
If this big guy really was here to “settle the score,” a brutal fight was inevitable.
Zhang Shan stopped in front of Qi Xia, studying him thoughtfully.
Qi Xia looked up, meeting the gaze of the 1.9-meter-tall giant.
“I heard… you’ve got some history with my friends,” Zhang Shan said coolly.
“Correct,” Qi Xia replied. “That old man bought his life from me with ‘Dao.'”
“Tch—who the hell do you think you are?” Zhang Shan dug at his ear with his pinky. “Buying life from you? Are you the King of Hell or something?”
“I could be,” Qi Xia took a step forward, closing the distance to the chair. “I can save lives—or end them.”
Zhang Shan frowned. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t you talk like a normal person?”
“Whether I talk ‘normally’ depends on whether you hand over your ‘Dao.'”
“You’re really pissing me off,” the big man scowled. “What if I refuse?”
Little Glasses stiffened, whispering urgently, “Zhang Shan! What’s the meaning of this? This isn’t what we agreed on!”
“Stay out of it,” Zhang Shan muttered back. “I’ve got a plan.”
“If you refuse, I’ll take it myself.”
“Oh? You got a death wish?”
Before Zhang Shan could react, Qi Xia kicked the chair at his feet straight into the man’s knees.
Zhang Shan grunted in pain, stumbling back a couple of steps.
Seizing the opening, Qi Xia lunged forward, grabbing the chair and wrenching off one of its legs. Zhang Shan was injured—this was the perfect chance to take him down.
*”Thirty-Six Stratagems: Capture the leader to disband the gang,”* Qi Xia thought as he swung the chair leg.
Zhang Shan, realizing the danger, ducked and raised his arms to shield his head.
*CRACK!*
The chair leg shattered against his forearm—painful, but not fatal.
*”Crush their stronghold, seize their leader, and the rest will scatter.”*
Zhang Shan’s anger flared. “You little bastard, you’re really trying to kill me?!”
Before he could curse further, he noticed Qi Xia now held a broken chair leg.
Qi Xia spun with the momentum, slamming the wooden shard toward Zhang Shan’s head.
Zhang Shan was no pushover—he twisted, meeting the strike with his forehead, the hardest part of his skull.
*SNAP!*
The chair leg splintered, leaving only a red mark on Zhang Shan’s brow.
“Interesting…!” Zhang Shan snarled. “You fight dirty. Fine—I won’t hold back either!”
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