Wang Jianqiang couldn't help but sneak a glance at the muscular woman beside him.
Her face was flushed with excitement, shimmering with anticipation, and in her eyes flickered a strange light.
In that instant, he finally confirmed it—Yes, that pile had indeed been freshly crafted by her.
And more than that… this "big sister" clearly harbored some unusual fetish.
No wonder she had been so enthusiastic.
Suppressing his urge to laugh and cry, Wang Jianqiang shifted his gaze to Bu Yueban and Xiong Zhuang.
"Gentlemen," he said smoothly, lips curling into a smirk, "begin your performance."
Bu Yueban's pudgy face twisted, while Xiong Zhuang's lean figure stiffened; both now wore expressions more bitter than tears.
They gritted their teeth, torn between shame, rage, and grim determination, then finally crouched down.
But the moment they drew near, the stench alone nearly made them vomit on the spot.
Fighting against their nausea, the two exchanged one last glance.
Then, as if sealing their fate, they shut their eyes, each snatched up a handful—and shoved it into their mouths.
The sight was so revolting that the crowd surrounding the arena almost retched, and even Wang Jianqiang's own stomach turned uncomfortably.
Only the muscular woman was different.
Her excitement only grew, her eyes alight with fervor, her entire body trembling as if she were witnessing something divine.
"Damn it—why does it taste like garlic?!"
Two muffled, strangled voices erupted almost in unison.
The very next moment—
Yueeehh~~
Both Bu Yueban and Xiong Zhuang collapsed to their knees, gagging and retching violently, nearly coughing up bile.
When they finally staggered upright, their faces were pale as death, their eyes filled with venom as they glared at Wang Jianqiang.
"Wang Jianqiang, you bastard… you'll pay for this!"
But Wang Jianqiang merely waved his hand in front of his nose, his brows furrowing.
"Gentlemen, your breath is unbearable. You'd better go wash your mouths before talking to me again."
"You—!"
They shook with fury, but the mocking stares of the onlookers burned hotter than fire across their cheeks.
Unable to endure the humiliation any longer, the two turned tail and fled in disgrace.
Wang Jianqiang snorted softly, watching their retreating backs with cold amusement. Then his attention shifted once more—to Arena No. 9.
Su Yutong had already been carried away unconscious, leaving only Wang Yuyao behind.
As the victor, she was entitled to half an hour of rest before facing her next challenger.
Sitting cross-legged on the scarred platform, she focused on restoring her depleted strength.
When the time passed, she finally opened her eyes.
Her spiritual power had only recovered to less than a third, yet at least she had regained some combat strength.
Below the stage, most of the challengers had already exhausted their chances.
The few who remained glanced at Arena No. 9 with wary hesitation.
Though Wang Yuyao's foundation was notoriously poor, the sheer might of her artifacts—and the way she had withstood a talisman treasure to defeat Su Yutong—made them all cautious.
None dared to gamble on her weakened state when safer targets were still available.
Thus, Arena No. 9, like Arena No. 1, became forbidden ground for the challengers.
As time ticked down, fewer and fewer contenders remained. The tournament was nearing its end.
It seemed Wang Yuyao might secure her spot in the top ranks without lifting another finger.
But then, on Arena No. 1—Ye Lingyun rose to his feet.
As one of the recognized favorites for champion, any movement he made drew countless eyes.
So when he calmly stepped off his platform, the entire square held its breath.
Had Ye Lingyun… just given up first place?
The thought had barely taken root before his body became a streak of golden light, flashing across the plaza.
In a heartbeat, he landed upon Arena No. 9.
Only then did the crowd understand—
Ye Lingyun had come to avenge Su Yutong!
A ripple of excitement swept through the spectators.
On the platform, Wang Yuyao's expression hardened. She clenched her teeth, feeling an oppressive force radiating from Ye Lingyun that made her heart waver.
But she refused to step back.
Senior Brother Wang had already explained the plan—If she wanted to help him, she had to enter the top ten.
There was no retreat.
Ye Lingyun said nothing as he arrived. Instead, he pressed his palm toward the ground.
At once, a crushing gravity erupted from the earth.
Wang Yuyao's face paled. She was nearly forced to prostrate herself.
Only by frantically channeling her Water-Moon Skirt's protective radiance did she avoid being flattened entirely.
Yet even with its aid, she remained pinned on one knee, unable to rise.
"Weren't you just flaunting your strength?"
"Where's that little seal of yours? Use your strongest trick—otherwise you won't last three breaths before me."
Ye Lingyun's voice dripped with arrogance as he strode closer, the gravity intensifying with every step.
Her slender frame trembled violently, her lips biting down so hard they broke, blood trickling down her chin.
She steeled herself for a desperate struggle—
Then, a familiar voice rang directly in her mind.
"You can't defeat him. Concede."
Senior Brother Wang!
Her eyes widened in shock, doubt flickering in her heart.
"Jump down at once."
This time, his tone was stern, leaving no room for hesitation.
Gritting her teeth, Wang Yuyao summoned the power of the Perfect Water-Moon Skirt, bolstered by her flawless Mystic Water Ring.
Moonlight flared around her, her body growing lighter—
And she leapt toward the edge of the arena.
"Trying to flee?"
Ye Lingyun's brows knit. He thrust out his palm, unleashing another surge of gravitational force.
Her body lurched to a halt, pulled backward as though by invisible chains.
Only by activating her Perfect Amethyst Shoes, their radiance blazing, did she finally break free of the binding force.
Ye Lingyun's eyes narrowed. He let out a cold snort.
His hand shifted—gravity turned to repulsion.
Like a titanic hammer, the force slammed into Wang Yuyao's back.
Blood burst from her lips as she was flung from the platform, her body crashing heavily to the ground below.
The stage stood dozens of meters high.
The fall alone rattled her organs, forcing another mouthful of blood from her.
And still Ye Lingyun pressed on.
Stepping to the platform's edge, his gaze sharpened, and he jabbed a finger downward.
A torrent of repulsive force erupted like a shockwave, the very air twisting as it hurtled straight for Wang Yuyao's broken form.