Chapter Eighty-One: The Shield of Breath

The driver, using his uninjured palm, lifted Xu Fan’s wrist.

Bang! The gunshot rang out, a flash of red light streaking from the muzzle...

The interference turned what had been aimed at the tire into a shot fired into the air.

The fiery energy bullet instantly transformed into a flare.

But it didn’t end there—the driver seized the opportunity to tackle Xu Fan to the ground, kicking away the elemental pistol that had fallen at his feet.

The two men wrestled fiercely, one with his pants already slipped down to his ankles.

Not far away, Smelly Scar glanced at the tangled pair, silently turning his head away, unable to bear the sight, and resumed his wailing:

“Oh, my eyes hurt so much—no, my arm hurts so much...”

Meanwhile, Ye Chen, in the midst of his escape, was busy dodging left and right, while keeping a close watch on Piglet’s movements.

The sound of water hissing behind him was relentless, sometimes shooting past his side, sometimes leaving tiny holes trailing at his heels.

Yet, the expected explosion of the tire never came; instead, a flare shot into the sky and two men grappled on the ground.

The engine’s roar had echoed for quite some time now, and Ye Chen was perplexed.

Why wasn’t Piglet fleeing? Was he watching the spectacle?

Was this really so entertaining?

Little did he know, Piglet in the driver’s seat was more anxious than anyone, fumbling frantically along both sides of the seat.

“Damn it, which bastard adjusted the seat so high! Where’s the adjustment? Where the hell is it?”

Piglet’s legs were too short to reach the gas pedal.

He had always enjoyed being chauffeured, never bothering to learn where the seat adjuster was.

...

“No, I can’t wait any longer. If I do, Piglet will eventually escape, and no matter how fast I run, I can’t outrun a patrol car flooring the accelerator.

“Besides, Curly in the back could drain me at any moment.

“Time is tight; a war of attrition won’t work.”

Ye Chen frowned, swiftly analyzing the situation and reminding himself:

“Water is fluid—the Broken Blade can’t stop its cutting power.

“Looks like I have to risk it!”

Ye Chen checked his inner reserves: fifty-eight points, full... Excellent!

He quickly condensed ten diamond-shaped throwing darts, leaving eight points in reserve for emergencies.

The ten darts spiraled around him, pulsing lightly, moving with his run, ready to be snatched and thrown at will.

Just as he turned, preparing to gamble on a lucky throw, a sudden flash of inspiration struck his mind.

---

Next, he held back the unreliable attack, avoiding any waste, and decided to try another possibility.

The process of crafting diamond darts involved condensing his inner energy into a fixed model. When first learning, it took him a while, as he sought to make them sharper.

But what if I only condensed them into a shield shape, even if it’s rough? Wouldn’t that require little practice to manage?

Worth a try!

Ye Chen withdrew the ten darts back into his body, focused his mind, and called upon fifty points of inner energy.

He raised his right hand high, and gradually, a rough, transparent shield—neither round nor square—slowly unfolded in his palm.

Ye Chen abandoned any attempt to refine its shape, content as long as it could cover most of his body. After all, no matter how ugly, his opponent couldn’t see it.

Still, he couldn’t help but complain inwardly... Ugly as sin, more like he’d conjured a broken door plank!

Whoosh!

Just then, a piercing sound sliced through the air behind him; a silver shadow shot toward Ye Chen at a speed faster than an arrow.

Thud!

Ye Chen stumbled, nearly falling.

Barely keeping his balance, he spun around, right palm raised defensively in front of him.

He had focused so intently on fabricating the shield, he’d forgotten to run in a zigzag.

Thus, he was struck by Ah Miao’s water gun, right in the thigh—clean through.

Ah Miao’s face lit up with joy, certain he’d clinched victory and would be tonight’s hero.

Yet, he immediately saw Ye Chen’s face glowing with even greater delight.

...What’s going on? Shot through the thigh and still so happy?

Ah Miao watched as the man merely staggered, not kneeling, as if it wasn’t his thigh that had been pierced.

Instead, Ye Chen rose and charged him with reckless abandon.

So fierce!

Ye Chen’s right hand was raised, palm seemingly empty, but his outline blurred, the light refracted as though by something invisible.

His left hand grasped a visibly broken blade.

“He’s throwing his life away? Fine, I’ll oblige!” Ah Miao sneered.

Ah Miao gripped his right wrist with his left hand to steady himself, pouring all his remaining inner energy into his fingertips.

In the air, on the ground, the water elements surged madly toward his fingers, and a jet-black water sphere quickly formed between them.

This was water compressed to its deepest color, Ah Miao’s strongest attack of the night.

Target: Ye Chen’s forehead.

Sizzle!

---

In an instant, the high-pressure water jet shot out with a sharp, shrill scream.

It carried the overwhelming momentum of piercing all obstacles, and blasted straight toward Ye Chen.

Buzz!

Yet, the next moment, the scene of a fatal blow did not materialize.

Ah Miao was stunned to see a strange ripple rise before the man advancing on him, as if the air itself folded into watery waves.

The high-pressure jet thudded against it, then stopped dead.

Baffled, Ah Miao adjusted the angle of his water gun, aiming lower.

But the unstoppable jet only produced more ripples, unable to harm Ye Chen at all.

It couldn’t even dampen his clothes.

Ah Miao was dumbfounded.

Ye Chen, meanwhile, moved swiftly. With a shout, he leaped high, his knee smashing down on Ah Miao’s chest.

Ah Miao was knocked flat, a mouthful of sweet blood stuck in his throat.

Before Ah Miao could recover, Ye Chen’s left hand—gripping the broken blade—rose high, as dark as a beast’s fang.

Ah Miao, terrified, watched as Ye Chen drove his right hand, with a sickening thud, straight through his palm, pinning it to the ground.

“Ah!” The agonized scream echoed across the empty mine.

Ye Chen, consumed by rage, seemed not to hear the cry, letting the broken blade pierce Ah Miao’s palm, nailing him firmly to the earth.

Pain blazed through Ah Miao’s mind; instinctively, he reached to pull the blade free.

Ye Chen, straddling Ah Miao’s abdomen, slapped his hand away.

His forehead veins bulged, fists clenched, arm muscles taut as stone.

No matter who you are, hurting my brother is unacceptable!

Bang!

His right fist crashed into Ah Miao’s face, stars exploding in his vision, blood streaming from nose and mouth.

Bang!

His left fist followed, shattering Ah Miao’s teeth.

Bang, bang, bang!

Ye Chen rained blows with both hands, venting his fury, beating the wild awakened one’s gaunt face until it swelled like a pig’s head.

Leaving Ah Miao questioning the meaning of existence...