editors: alamerysl & Pyromancer
The so-called blade duel was a close up fight where the two opponents only used a single dagger or short sword. All the attacking and defensive moves were performed using that single blade, and it tested both sides’ reactions, awareness, hand speed, strength, and so on.
Blade duels were often ineffective, but they were extremely beautiful to watch.
As the blood colored knife glints flashed back and forth like two shuttles incessantly weaving a web of light, people would find themselves unable to move their gaze away. At the same time, they would be shocked by the beauty and power contained in this scene.
However, if the gap in strength between the two sides was too large, then the audience would be presented with a one-sided performance.
Tyron held his dagger in a reverse grip. It was a very steady, solid posture that limited his options to downward stabbing and horizontal blade defense. Almost no one would choose to reverse their dagger like this in a blade duel, but it was exactly what Tyron did.
And he had the upper hand, standing there with a hint of boredom evident in his eyes.
Tyron’s dagger did not appear like a dagger. Rather, it seemed like a blade of light that was hidden on his fingertips.
As he wielded it freely, the glint of the blade would appear at will and suddenly cut through time and space. Even as a scene of amazing beauty unfolded before their eyes, the dagger struck sharply against the enemy’s blade.
The sound of the two daggers colliding together rang out like the crisp ringing of a bell. It brought a feeling of coolness and freshness to those who heard it.
That bell-like sound rang out for a mere two seconds.
Lu Chaofan’s forehead was covered in fine drops of cold sweat.
His wrist had begun to stiffen, the images before his eyes somewhat difficult to understand. His ability to judge his enemy had already begun to fail, and his actions turned clumsy as his body moved without his control.
Suddenly, Lu Chaofan felt a shock on his wrist.
His dagger flew away.
He had lost. It was a complete defeat that left him with absolutely no room for refusal.
Lu Chaofan was breathing heavily, sweat and blood flowing down his chin as he stared the person opposite him in horror.
Tyron was still holding Deep Silence in a reverse position. He slowly moved the blade towards Lu Chaofan’s neck and asked, “Do you know what the difference is between a mixed blood and a hybrid?”
Lu Chaofan’s vision was filled with nothing but Tyron’s dark golden eyes. His back began to drip with cold sweat, and he subconsciously wanted to move his gaze away, but for some reason, he found that he could not move.
He could deeply sense that his psychological defences were turning shaky. If he admitted defeat here, he would be terrified of Tyron from now on!
After a long delay, Lu Chaofan gritted his teeth and said, “No… no difference. You’re a— AHH—“
He screamed shrilly, and then discovered that he had not been killed and turned into a flash of white light.
Tyron had merely made a casual cut between his eyes, leaving an incomparably precise line of blood that seemed to vertically divide his entire body into two halves—before slicing off the belt at his waist.
Tyron spoke lazily, “The difference is that hearing ‘mixed blood’ makes me unhappy; but hearing ‘hybrid’ makes me extremely unhappy.”
Tyron disappeared into the darkness once again without saying anything else.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Lu Chaofan was sweating all over as he strived to fix his belt and cover up a pair of hairy thighs. He was finally able to free up his hand and cover his bleeding nose, slowly moving forward along the corridor in an embarrassed manner.
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But he couldn’t kill himself. He couldn’t bring himself to do such a thing during this match where so many eyes were watching. Otherwise, other than losing so badly, he would also lose face and be faced with accusations of ‘passive play’. By then, what kind of dignity would he have left even if he managed to win?
While he was thinking these thoughts, Lu Chaofan suddenly saw Tyron’s figure as it turned the corner up ahead!
Tyron seemed to be setting up some traps along the wall as he waited for his opponent to approach.
Lu Chaofan’s heart jumped, and he rushed forward for two steps before suddenly stopping in place.
Vigilance arose in his heart. He slipped cautiously into another corridor, then manoeuvred until he was coming at Tyron from the side. After surveying the situation, he activated Stealth and approached Tyron from behind.
He tracked the distance in his mind: five meters, four meters, three meters, two meters…
Lu Chaofan lunged forward, ready to plunge a dagger into the unprotected back of Tyron’s neck.
Suddenly, his body stopped moving.
A trap gripped his right foot, and the familiar toxin contained within invaded his body, causing him to be <paralyzed> for several seconds.
It had never occurred to him that this match would deviate so completely from his script, and that he would ultimately end up falling into his own trap.
Only then did Tyron turn around, his actions leisurely as he stretched out a hand to pat Lu Chaofan lightly on the cheek as though checking the stiffness of his face.
“I’ve heard that you’re an expert in traps. You predicted many of your opponents’ behaviour patterns, and won a lot of games in miraculous ways.” Tyron said, “So, does taking into account every conceivable possibility include forgetting where you put your own trap at the start of the match?”
Lu Chaofan was trembling all over, but it was unclear if it was due to rage or humiliation.
But a few seconds later, his mind was filled with dread.
Because Tyron had no expression on his face as he pointed the dagger towards his eyes.
The blade that was slowly moving closer to his eyes—
Very few people would not feel nothing but bone deep, chilling terror when facing it.
And this time, it really stabbed him between the eyes and entered his head, putting him to death.
A few seconds later, the first match of this BO3 competition ended.
Player #419 won, and the score was now 1:0.
The next match would begin after a one-minute countdown.
At this time, the inside and outside of the stadium were still isolated from each other. Lu Chaofan was both tired and frightened. He did not know how the audience would react to his ugly performance, but his spirit had already been stretched to the limit.
Therefore, he applied for a ten-minute break.
During these ten minutes, the players would return to rest in the backstage lounge, and the hosts and staff that were on stage would also accompany them for their break.
In order to ensure that the audience did not become bored, a pair of commentators, one male and one female, continued to discuss the match that had occurred just now.
Male commentator: “I never thought that number 419 would win so easily.”
Female commentator: “That’s right, both of them are black horse players on the B-list. We had guessed that the competition between two assassin professions would be a very exciting game with much back and forth.”
The man agreed, then let out a long exhale that sounded like a sigh. “Player number 419 not only gained the upper hand right from the start, there was a sense that he was accomplishing everything with ease the whole way through…”
The female commentator added, “It was like watching a cat catching a mouse.”
Her words were very frank, and it made Lu Chaofan’s fans feel extremely embarrassed. They started to leave comments on the public screen to express their dissatisfaction.
“This commentator is obviously taking sides!”
“It’s obvious that my idol just isn’t feeling well. He was out celebrating a fan’s birthday in the middle of the night last night. There’s nothing worth praising in winning an unequal match!”
This was followed by Lord Four’s fan’s rebuttal. They were high from watching him kill off his opponent in such an embarrassing way, and their hands trembled from excitement as they typed and sent messages in public chat.
“You’re talking so much nonsense. Didn’t he just lose like a dog!”
“He stepped on his own trap. He claims to be a ‘Trap Master’, but now his bragging has been seen through!”
All of a sudden, the virtual screen that was several meters high started to fill up with comments as the two groups of fans fought fiercely. The smell of gunpowder drifted out from the spectator stands and spread outside.
While the fans were getting ready to battle it out, there was also a scene of confusion backstage.
The palm-sized goblin host flew inside and spoke in a panic, “What should we do? Director, I’ve lost my microphone.”
Director: “How could you lose it when you were holding it in your hand?”
The little goblin whispered sadly, “I don’t know either, it was fine when I walked backstage, but when I snapped out of my daze, I discovered that I was holding a potato chip.”
The director didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You foodie! How could a microphone turn into a potato chip! That dandelion microphone was made specifically for you. Now that it’s gone, you’ll just have to pick a normal one for yourself.”
The little goblin’s wings were drooping as she flew away.
The director spoke to the other staff present, “Enough. You guys should pay more attention later on. That microphone is directly connected to the broadcast. It will be bad if it was picked up by someone in the audience. Old Xu, you go ahead first and turn that channel off.”
“For sure!” Old Xu went back to look for the channel. But he hadn’t managed to figure out which one it was when they heard the sound of a voice coming out from that microphone’s channel.
Lu Chaofan’s voice seemed to come from far away:
“Fuck! Are you looking to die?! I fucking told you to lose, but you dared to make me lose instead? Did you forget that there’s still 2.5 million in my hands?”
The host channel was connected to all the speakers in the stadium. The voice lingered there for a long time.
Contestant Lu Chaofan had gotten straight to the point and shocked everyone.
The broadcasting studio was dead silent.
The spectator stands were also dead silent.
Faint sounds were still coming through from the host channel.
There was the sound of running water, as though someone was slowly washing their hands.
Followed by #419: “Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”
Lu Chaofan spouted over twenty continuous phrases of expletives, and then seemed to be in an uncontrollable rage as he said, “The penalty for defaulting on the contract is 20 million dollars, you *beep—* can’t *beep—* afford to pay it off! If my reputation is ruined, you *beep—* have no ability to compensate me for it!”
#419: “Don’t be anxious. Isn’t it BO3? If you win the next two rounds, you’ll still win.”
Lu Chaofan: “Are you mentally retarded? Not only do I want to win, I want to win beautifully! Otherwise, why would I come and sign a contract with you? I could have just had Assistant Director Xu give you a 0.2 second delay the way I’ve done before. Won’t I have won then?!”
Inside the broadcasting studio.
The staff: “…”
The director silently turned his head, and quietly looked at his own assistant director.
At this moment, silence was the better option.
Assistant Director Xu: “…” Lu Chaofan are you fucking stupid! Stupid ahhhhhh!!
The director spoke meaningfully, “First turn off the channel for now and report it to the Organizing Committee. The game will continue as planned. There’s no need for us to act in a hurry.”
In the spectator stands.
The audience had gradually recovered from their initial petrified state, and the sounds of gossip and discussion began to spring up.
As the ten-minute break drew to a close, the comments from the audience began to heat up, and their anger quickly grew and spread.
Comments were beginning to appear on the public screen.
The two contestants were the completely isolated from everything that was occurring outside, and so without knowing everyone’s feelings, they returned back to the stage and prepared to start the second round.
After Lu Chaofan came back from the break, he had regained his composure. He had a dazzling superstar smile on his face, and appeared to be greeting player #419 politely after they met face to face.
Everyone: “…” Faking it? Was he still faking it?