Chapter 445: Want to Know How I Beat You?

Chapter 445: Do you want to know how I will defeat you?

From the mouth of the Formless Spirit General, a golden jade disc spat out a ray of solar fire, striking Ping Han’s head in a heartbeat.

The next moment, the Spirit General’s body of sand and soil twisted like thousands of steel cables, and with the surging martial energy within, it slammed a palm toward Ping Han.

This strike not only contained Zhang Yu’s own strength but also unleashed the profound mysteries of the Nine Heavens Void Force, releasing all twenty accumulated strikes he had stored during their entanglement.

Bolstered by the Martial Saint Body, this chain of attacks was not only amplified step by step but, under his meticulous control, condensed into a single, tyrannical force of palm power that exploded from the Spirit General’s hand, crashing down upon Ping Han with devastating fury.

Almost the instant the solar ray dissipated, the sight that filled Ping Han’s vision was this overwhelming palm.

The terrifying pressure compressed the atmosphere against Ping Han’s face, leaving him with a suffocating sensation, as if the air itself had been crushed into a solid mass.

Amidst a thunderous, piercing shriek, the Spirit General’s palm seemed poised to tear a hole through the very sky.

Bang!

As Ping Han’s blade aura collided violently with the Spirit General’s palm, rolling shockwaves erupted, kicking up a sky full of dust and sand.

The Spirit General’s arm instantly disintegrated, shattering into a cloud of smoke and debris.

Ping Han’s body was sent flying backward, hurtling toward the earth like a bolt of black lightning.

With a series of cracking explosions, Ping Han plowed through the battlefield, smashing through one crater after another.

Zhang Yu, meanwhile, shifted his hand seals, using the Small Tri-Unity to manipulate the sand and reassemble the Spirit General’s shattered arm.

At the same time, three golden armors, formed from three Taiyi Golden Liquid Pills, shot out like globs of golden slime, merging directly into the Spirit General’s body and spreading rapidly across its surface.

In the blink of an eye, the front of the Spirit General appeared as if plated in golden armor.

But no sooner had Zhang Yu finished this than a roar rose from the distant earth; Ping Han, having just been smashed away, burst from the soil and shot toward him like a black lightning bolt.

Glancing at Ping Han’s unscathed armor, Zhang Yu thought to himself, "That is one tough shell."

"It seems ordinary means won't be enough to break through his armor."

Though he had anticipated the defensive capabilities of such combat-grade gear, the sheer power and resilience Ping Han displayed still surprised him.

"Money really is power."

Zhang Yu’s ocular implants scanned the armor, seemingly analyzing its composition.

He knew the outer plating was incredibly durable, offering immense protection against high heat, extreme cold, vibrations, slashes, martial energy, and Daoist arts.

Martial arts like the Meta-Magnetic Pulse-Severing Hand, designed to target internal structures, were even less likely to work through such thick plating.

Zhang Yu mused, "I need an attack that is stronger and more targeted."

The next moment, with a deafening clang, the emerald scythe formed by Ping Han’s blade aura slammed into the Spirit General’s arm.

Ping Han sneered, "Do you think a big toy like this can handle me?"

With a surge of martial energy beneath his feet, Ping Han stood atop the Spirit General’s arm, sprinting along it toward Zhang Yu.

Zhang Yu pressed his palms together and whispered, "Ping Han! You talk too much."

Amidst a series of sharp cracks, the Spirit General’s surface rippled, and several arms wrapped in Taiyi Golden Liquid surged outward like a forest of spears, shooting toward the incoming Ping Han.

Ping Han’s emerald scythe danced like a storm, hacking and blasting away the golden palms, cutting through the golden torrents and scattering them everywhere.

"Too weak! Too weak! Too weak, Zhang Yu!"

The two figures darted back and forth, clashing across the Spirit General’s arms, head, chest, and back.

Ping Han let out a long howl, shouting, "Look at all this junk you’re wearing—does it even add up to 100 spirit coins?"

"With that little money, you dare to come here and fight?"

The entire battlefield became Zhang Yu’s weapon, as a sky full of golden palm prints rained down upon Ping Han.

But Ping Han laughed wildly, slicing and shattering every incoming strike, tearing through the Spirit General like a meat grinder.

Amidst the rolling chaos, Zhang Yu repaired the Spirit General while retreating, saying coldly, "Do you think the money you made from coin speculation is actually your own?"

Ping Han sneered, "I earned it with my courage! My wisdom! My vision! How is it not my own money?"

Zhang Yu channeled surging martial energy to entangle Ping Han’s blade aura, constantly hindering his momentum.

Zhang Yu replied, "Even if I'm not as rich as you, I can still defeat you."

Ping Han slashed with his blade, roaring, "You’re poorer than me and you want to beat me?" "You’re dreaming!"

"The poor should submit, they should lose, and they certainly can't block this move, fueled by my savings!"

With a thunderous shout, Ping Han’s body erupted in blinding light, rising like a dazzling star.

"Humanity’s Torrent! Cleansing the World!"

Shadows surged from behind Ping Han, revealing dense streams of coin price trends, transaction data, bullish news, and the countless cries, heart-felt pleas, and shouts of speculators...

In a single instant, every corner of the atmosphere was filled with the information of endless Qiongjiang coins, manifesting as various special effects projected across the arena, erupting in a brilliant glow that blinded every spectator.

Every 0.1 seconds, each piece of information shifted in thousands of ways, like billions of stars illuminating the world.

Under this terrifying spiritual realm effect—this torrent of humanity—the spectators felt their ocular implants struggling to keep up, the images before them stuttering violently.

Those with better implants felt their brains suffer an unimaginable shock, unable to see the battlefield any longer.

Lower-end implants, like those of the Extreme Tiger, simply malfunctioned, shutting down and rebooting before the eyes of their owners.

"Too... too much money! I can't see anymore!"

"So rich! Ping Han is truly so rich! After crossing into the spiritual realm, I can't even look directly at him!"

"Such terrifying pressure! I can no longer look at the battlefield!"

At the center of the fray, Zhang Yu felt his vision go black, his brain overloaded by the sheer volume of incoming data.

As Zhang Yu’s figure sank into the Spirit General, Ping Han stepped forward and declared, "It’s over, Zhang Yu."

The terrifying pressure slowly subsided, the sky-filling radiance faded, and Ping Han’s savings stopped burning.

He slashed his blade repeatedly, cutting the Spirit General’s body into pieces.

With a bang, the Spirit General’s arms were severed and flung onto the ground.

"Zhang Yu, let me teach you one last lesson."

"In this world, the poor aren't even considered human."

The blade aura flashed, disintegrating the incoming palm prints and shattering the rest of the Spirit General’s body.

Ping Han said coldly, "I broke and rebuilt myself nine times, from poverty to wealth, only then did I barely manage to take on a human form."

"You are still far from that."

Boom!

The Spirit General shattered completely, revealing Zhang Yu inside.

At the same time, the audience refocused, and the sky above the arena was filled with dense, projected text.

Bankrupt him! Bankrupt him! Bankrupt! Bankrupt! Screw him! Bankrupt!

Countless text projections converged into the single word: BANKRUPT.

In this moment, the malice of the entire crowd condensed into a physical force, ready to tear Zhang Yu, who had dared to short the Qiongjiang coin, into a thousand pieces.

Just as Ping Han raised his blade of concentrated essence, poised to bring this all to an end,

Zhang Yu pressed his palms together and spoke with a chilling calm: "Ping Han, do you not wish to know how I intend to defeat you?"

"It is by this very move."

In the next heartbeat, the scattered remnants of the Formless Spirit Generals, which Ping Han had just hewn into pieces across the field, surged with sudden, borrowed life, each fragment erupting with a fierce, latent energy.

Simultaneously, within the depths of Zhang Yu’s gaze, a constellation of vital points ignited across Ping Han’s body.

These were the vulnerabilities Zhang Yu had deduced—the structural flaws exposed by the overlapping layers of armor and spirit-bone, meticulously analyzed through his Art of Appraisal.

The debris strewn about the perimeter, sustained by the Three-Fold Harmony and the Formless Cloud Essence, had transformed into a sky-filling storm of palm strikes, converging upon Ping Han from every conceivable direction.

Having occupied strategic positions during their fall, these fragments now left no blind spot, sealing every sliver of space around their target.

Within these myriad palm strikes lay the concentrated force of the twenty blows Ping Han had unleashed but a moment before.

Nine Heavens Void, Thousand-Handed Saint Martial!

Crushed beneath the weight of their combined power, Ping Han was instantly overwhelmed, driven deep into the shattered earth.

(End of Chapter)