Then Let Me See Just How Many Such Pawns You've Prepared!

The moment those words were spoken, everyone stood stunned for several seconds.

After a long while, one boy could not help but sneer. "He really dared to say it—Apex of the World? So many Martial Saints in the Jin Kingdom wouldn't dare claim they'd reached the Apex of the World, and he's just a student who hasn't even taken the Martial Arts Examination yet."

"Exactly!"

Someone beside him immediately echoed, "Apex of the World? He should get first place in the martial arts school before spouting such big words!"

"If you ask me, he may have already compromised with Zhao He. He won't have to worry about resources from now on, so of course he won't add us!"

"Enough!" Su Xiaowan cried sharply, cutting off the increasingly unpleasant discussion.

"Since Senior Student Lu Jue is unwilling to add us, there's no need for us to waste any more time here!"

"It's not as if Tianhai City has no precedent. The students' march at the city's martial arts school two years ago achieved a breakthrough success. Everyone, take out your phones and call on more people to add us. So long as we work together with one heart, they will surely hear our demands!"

Seeing them remain so stubbornly obsessed, Lu Jue shook his head inwardly.

He clearly remembered that the reason the march at the city's martial arts school two years ago had forced the school to yield was fundamentally because most of the participants had been children of the Power Elites. Their family backgrounds were themselves bargaining chips that could not be ignored.

As for the people before him, aside from a bellyful of hot blood and flimsy convictions, they had almost nothing.

In this world, where strength and background determined one's standing, without bargaining chips of sufficient weight, any cries would inevitably be swallowed without mercy.

"Leaving already? Haven't you seen enough?"

Lu Jue raised a hand and lightly smacked the back of Liu Ga's head, breaking him out of his daze.

Only then did Liu Ga suddenly come back to himself. The tips of his ears reddened, but he still forced out an excuse. "I-I was just observing the situation. I heard Su Xiaowan isn't weak."

Lu Jue could not be bothered to expose him. He turned and headed toward the Group D area, while Liu Ga hurriedly followed, unable to resist looking back once more at the white figure in the center of the crowd.

"But seriously!"

He leaned close to Lu Jue and lowered his voice. "Weren't your words just now a little too harsh? Su Xiaowan looked like she was about to cry."

"Rather than give her unrealistic hopes, it's better to let them see reality sooner. In this world, no one was ever obliged to take responsibility for anyone else's wishes."

Lu Jue did not slow his pace, his gaze already directed toward the Group D arena area in the distance.

His draw number was Group D, thirty-eight. At the current pace of the matches, it would be his turn in less than ten minutes.

The closer they drew to the arena, the heavier the tension in the air became.

A match that had just ended was being cleared away. Two medical staff hurried past carrying a stretcher. The student lying on it had one arm twisted at an unnatural angle, with bloody foam still hanging from the corner of his mouth.

On the arena ahead, another pair of students had already stepped up. The instant the referee shouted, "Begin," one of them pounced like a leopard, his fist wind fierce as it shot straight for his opponent's throat.

Lu Jue slowly rolled his wrists, warming up.

Ten minutes later, a referee's voice drifted faintly over from somewhere.

"Group D, thirty-seven and thirty-eight, prepare to enter!"

Lu Jue stepped steadily onto the arena. He had barely come to a stop and was about to cup his fists in greeting when the student opposite him abruptly retreated half a step and raised his right hand high.

"Referee, I concede!"

The voice was crisp and decisive, without the slightest hesitation.

Lu Jue raised an eyebrow slightly and looked at the pale-faced youth opposite him. The other boy forced out a smile, then turned and quickly left.

The referee expressionlessly glanced at the departing student's back, then raised his right hand. "Group D, number thirty-eight, Lu Jue, wins!"

"Next group, numbers thirty-nine and forty of Group D, prepare!"

Lu Jue shook his head and turned to step down from the arena.

Liu Ga had long been waiting below the stage, caught between laughter and tears. "That was too straightforward, wasn't it? He should've at least exchanged a couple moves with you!"

"He was smart."

Lu Jue spoke calmly, his gaze sweeping over the other matches underway nearby. "Saving his strength for the Revival Match is the most rational choice."

Before entering the Quarterfinals, every contestant still had one chance at a Revival Match after losing.

Quite a few people had already prepared detailed strategies in advance—when facing certain opponents, they would surrender immediately, conserve their stamina and hidden cards, and focus entirely on the Revival Match afterward.

Lu Jue, who had already begun to show his edge, was naturally on that list as well.

"I'm not talking to you anymore. My Group B match is about to start!"

Liu Ga glanced at the match schedule displayed on his phone, then turned and sprinted toward the Group B area, quickly vanishing into the surging crowd.

Lu Jue remained where he was alone. After waiting for about half an hour, the referee at Arena Three finally called out, "Group D, number thirty-eight versus Group D, number seventy!"

Lu Jue stepped steadily onto the arena. This time, his opponent was a burly student, his muscles knotted like tangled roots. One look was enough to tell he was a martial artist who followed a fierce, hard-hitting path. Yet before Lu Jue could even stand firm, the other party suddenly raised his hand and shouted, "Referee, I withdraw!"

Withdraw?

Lu Jue froze slightly.

Withdrawal differed from conceding. It meant directly giving up one's qualification to compete, along with any chance at a subsequent Revival Match.

Just as he was puzzled, a shout also came from the neighboring arena. "Referee, I withdraw!"

The referee announced expressionlessly, "Group D, number seventy and Group D, number one hundred and eleven have withdrawn. Next, Group D's Lu Jue will face Group D's Wang Meng!"

A tall, thin student walked shakily onto the arena. His eyes were filled with terror, and his hands trembled nonstop, yet he still barely managed to assume a fighting stance.

A strange feeling rose in Lu Jue's heart, but he still cupped his fists according to custom.

"Match begin!"

Wang Meng shrank back and did not dare approach. Lu Jue had no desire to waste time. With a flash, he dodged the thrust of the other's Wooden Sword and knocked him to the ground with a straight punch.

He had held back the force of that punch. It was not out of kindness; Wang Meng was merely a commoner student. There was no need to cripple him with one blow. Making him retreat in the face of difficulty was enough.

Lu Jue had thought the match was over and was about to turn to the referee, only to see Wang Meng grit his teeth. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth as he swayed back to his feet and raised the Wooden Sword again.

Lu Jue frowned, astonished by such unreasonable persistence.

He struck first again—

Bang!

A clean, decisive side kick knocked the other man down once more.

"Urgh..."

Wang Meng groaned in pain, yet still struggled to get back up again.

"Something's not right here."

Lu Jue's gaze passed over the arena and landed on two richly dressed men below, who were watching him with ill intent.

In an instant, he suddenly understood.

The match order in the Quota Competition was determined by the students drawing lots on their phones. Zhao He and his group could not tamper with that.

But they could use the competition rules "cleverly" to achieve their goal.

According to the rules, every contestant's match schedule would be announced in advance through the mobile app.

When two people faced each other and one withdrew, the other would not advance directly to the next round. Instead, another opponent would immediately be arranged.

If, at that moment, two people happened to withdraw at the same time, then those two people's opponents would directly fight each other.

In other words, the two people who had withdrawn just now, as well as Wang Meng, who was likely a little stronger, had already been threatened or bribed by Zhao He's people. All of this was meant to drain as much of Lu Jue's stamina and hidden cards as possible before his truly formidable opponents appeared.

"Heh."

A cold arc lifted at the corner of Lu Jue's mouth.

"This has become interesting. Then let me see just how many such pawns you've prepared."