Man and Sword Mutual Control

Since he was using a ballpoint pen, Mo Qiong decisively chose to stab Zhao Mingjun in the web between his thumb and index finger. Even as the pen struck, he added another layer of force.

Thus, he injured Zhao Mingjun's hand and knocked his knife away.

That precision was naturally thanks to Absolute Hit. No matter how Zhao Mingjun tried to evade, he absolutely could not dodge that thrust.

Within inches, it was fast and accurate, with feints and changes of direction. There was nowhere to dodge.

This was one method Mo Qiong had thought of for concealing the trajectory of his projectile during close combat.

That was to hold it after firing it. It would still maintain the force it had before and head toward the previously designated Landing Point.

As long as he did not let go, he would not give it new force or a new Landing Point.

During his experiments, Mo Qiong had used this method to hold on to an arrow and fly through the air.

Now, in this close-quarters fight, he used the method to lock onto the hand with which his opponent was attacking. It looked as though Mo Qiong was manipulating the pen and precisely stabbing his target.

In reality, it was using the sword to control the man.

The sword was attacking the target. His hand was merely a burden. If he stood still, the sword in his hand could even drag him along...

Thus, as long as Mo Qiong slightly followed the sword in his hand, he could perfectly conceal the fact that the sword itself was chasing the target and stabbing it.

Every onlooker would think Mo Qiong was wielding his weapon with exquisite skill, rather than the weapon pulling along his arm and even his entire body.

That was simply too absurd. No one would ever think of it.

Conversely, if Mo Qiong did not do this, the scene just now would have looked extremely strange.

The ballpoint pen would fly toward the target at a constant speed. When Zhao Mingjun's hand dodged downward, the pen would suddenly dive after it. Then, when Zhao Mingjun's hand dodged upward, the pen tip would suddenly fly upward, ignoring gravity.

With such a twisted trajectory, wouldn't the onlookers be dumbfounded?

Even an idiot could probably see that something was wrong, and Mo Qiong would have no way to explain it.

But things were different now. No matter how the pen changed its trajectory or direction, Mo Qiong's arm remained connected to it.

In the eyes of others, every change and every thrust straight at a vital point would be attributed to Mo Qiong's control.

This method was extremely suited to close combat: using offense as defense and forcing the enemy to defend.

If he attacked the enemy's most threatening point, such as their weapon or the hand holding it,

then he could basically disarm them with a single move.

If this counted as a sword technique, then it had three characteristics.

First, this sword technique would almost certainly strike the opponent first.

It was extremely difficult for the opponent to get around a thrust that would never slow down no matter how it changed direction and that was guaranteed to hit, then attack his body.

It would not slow down even after two changes of direction, let alone two thousand. It would only become faster.

Unless the opponent's attack speed completely overwhelmed Mo Qiong's, or their weapon had too great an advantage.

Second, this sword technique would hit every time, leaving nowhere to dodge.

After all, it relied on the Absolute Hit ability. The only options were to endure it head-on or destroy his sword outright and let oneself be struck only by the fragments.

Finally, it was ever-changing, with complete freedom to accelerate or restrain.

With the sword in his hand, Mo Qiong could add force and speed to it at any time.

Just now, he had charged forward while holding the pen, mindlessly adding force. There was no need to worry about missing. The excess force would simply be ignored by the sword itself, while useful force would be accepted.

This greatly made up for the weakness that Mo Qiong's initial firing force might be insufficient.

After all, he had to throw it out and grab it again instantly, so its initial speed could not be very high. Once he caught it, he could add force, allowing the sword to grow faster and faster.

Likewise, the sword's weakness of only being able to speed up and never slow down could also be made up for through Mo Qiong's personal control.

Since the sword was in his hand, Mo Qiong only had to let go to refresh its force and trigger the ability a second time.

The same applied to its Landing Point. One second it could be attacking the left hand, and the next it could attack the right.

As long as Mo Qiong suddenly let go and grabbed it again in rapid succession, then combined that with the mental technique—reselecting the Landing Point in his mind—he could change the sword's target at any time.

Thus, the sword could adapt to the situation at will, remaining nimble and ever-changing.

This sword technique was ever-changing, yet had no actual moves. Everything depended on adapting to the time and place, which Mo Qiong had to master through practice.

Seen this way, simply calling it using the sword to control the man was not enough to describe it.

The body followed the sword, and the sword followed the mind.

While using the sword to control the man, the man still retained control over the sword.

Mo Qiong preferred to call it Man and Sword Mutual Control.

Zhao Mingjun leaned against the door, his right hand trembling, blood trickling from the web between his thumb and index finger.

He had been good at fighting since childhood. After growing up and spending years mixed up in the underworld, he was highly skilled with knives.

More importantly, he had truly spilled blood and taken lives. When he drew his knife, he never hesitated.

Yet even so, Mo Qiong had still managed to precisely track the trajectory of his swing and stab the web of his hand with a pen—fast and accurate.

There was not the slightest hindrance when it changed direction. It flowed seamlessly and naturally.

"What a formidable kid..."

Zhao Mingjun sneered, then suddenly lunged at the woman beside him and shoved her toward Mo Qiong.

He wanted to use the opportunity to open the door and escape. He had already gotten the money, and with money, he could survive anywhere.

He had not shown his face. If he ran all the way to the countryside and traveled overnight to another province, he could live for a long time.

He had only robbed twenty thousand yuan. The police would not go so far as to set up checkpoints and seal off the area. Once he reached another province and lived quietly, no one would know who he was or what he had done.

However, when Mo Qiong saw the woman stagger and fall toward him, he did not catch her as Zhao Mingjun had expected, wasting time.

Instead, he slightly crouched and braced both hands against her stomach.

The woman immediately toppled backward, crashing straight into Zhao Mingjun.

Zhao Mingjun staggered, then saw a ballpoint pen fly over and stab into his cheek from the side.

"Ah!" Zhao Mingjun howled.

The force of the pen even dragged his head into the wall.

More precisely, the pen struck the mask with tremendous force and pinned his head against the wall.

The impact brought a burst of agony. The ballpoint pen pierced the mask, crushed through his skin, bored through his cheek, and finally stopped against one of his right-side molars.

That molar was precisely Mo Qiong's target.

Earlier, he had noticed certain details about the man's teeth. One tooth was particularly conspicuous: crooked, black and yellow, with two cavities.

Using it as his target, the ballpoint pen pierced through the mask, skin, flesh, and fascia before finally colliding with the tooth and stopping.

The ballpoint pen was not especially sharp, and its speed was not particularly high either, so the process was exceptionally painful. It had forcibly crushed through the flesh before reaching the tooth.

"Mm-mm-mm..." A pen was stuck in Zhao Mingjun's cheek, and the pain made him jump around wildly.

But he was ruthless enough. He decisively endured the pain and pulled the pen out, blood mixing with ink as it flowed out.

"Wuh... you... you..." Zhao Mingjun's speech was slurred, but he still glared viciously at Mo Qiong.

After that delay, Mo Qiong had already charged in front of him and swung a heavy punch.

"Bang!"

The punch struck the wound in his cheek. Amid his cry of pain, he was involuntarily knocked backward.

He staggered back four or five steps, unable to shed the force, until he crashed into the dining table amid a clatter.

He sat on the floor, completely dazed, staring blankly at Mo Qiong.

This kid was way too formidable. Was he some damn martial artist?

"Rip!" Mo Qiong showed no mercy. He followed up, reached out, and directly tore off his mask.

The movement pulled at the wound, making Zhao Mingjun grimace in pain.

Mo Qiong looked at him and said, "Huh? You look a little familiar. I feel like I've seen you somewhere..."

Zhao Mingjun was horrified. I wouldn't actually get caught here, would I? No, I can't be arrested.

Given his past crimes, he would surely receive the death penalty.

He was terrified of death. No matter what, he did not want to be executed by firing squad.

For the sake of survival, he growled like a beast and once again charged at Mo Qiong.

This was a cornered beast's final struggle. The desperate criminal erupted with astonishing strength, his momentum intimidating.

Seeing this, Mo Qiong lowered his center of gravity and steadied himself. He grabbed Zhao Mingjun's collar with his left hand, supported his waist with his right, spun halfway around, and used the momentum to throw him.

"Bang..."

Using a move that seemed to redirect a thousand pounds with four ounces, Mo Qiong sent Zhao Mingjun flying.

He slammed headfirst into a cabinet in the living room, breaking his head open and splattering it with blood.

What a joke. Hand-to-hand combat?

If it were not for the fifty thousand yuan, Mo Qiong would have kicked such a heinous criminal straight into Furnace Three at the crematorium the moment he encountered him in private.

"I remember now. Aren't you the murderer on the wanted notice?" Mo Qiong looked down at him, took out his phone, and called the police.

As for Zhao Mingjun, he despairingly curled up on the floor, clutching his head.

After being slammed down twice in succession, his entire body hurt so badly that he could not even stand. His head was still spinning.

When he saw Mo Qiong calling the police, he let out a roar mixed with muffled sounds, shouting threats that he would kill Mo Qiong's entire family if he dared call the police. His eyes remained vicious.

An ordinary person might have been intimidated by that look.

But Mo Qiong did not hesitate in the slightest. He called the police and asked them to hurry over and "inspect the goods." He was not about to be threatened by a walking fifty thousand yuan. This man should have been executed long ago.

"...Yes, this is the address."

"Mm, send someone quickly. I don't think he's just a robber. He seems to be a wanted criminal too..."

"I can't quite remember the name, but I remember he's an A-class wanted criminal. His crimes were probably kidnapping and murder, right? He killed six hostages and one accomplice or something..."

"...Oh, don't worry about that. I've already subdued him. Yes... Anyway, come quickly. Someone else at the scene is injured..."

"Okay, I'll wait..."

After hanging up, Mo Qiong found a chair and sat down. He watched the heavily injured Zhao Mingjun while also looking toward the owner of the house.

"That was dangerous..." Mo Qiong sighed.

The man and woman both stared blankly at him. The situation had reversed so quickly that they were completely dumbfounded.

Hearing Mo Qiong's sigh, the man thought, Do you take me for a blind man? What the hell do you mean, 'That was dangerous'? This was obviously a martial arts expert brutally beating an ordinary passerby.

But aloud, he said, "Little brother, you're incredible. You really know your stuff!"

Mo Qiong said, "It's nothing. By the way, this really isn't Xiao Xin's home?"

The couple was speechless. Who the hell is Xiao Xin? And why would you think this is Xiao Xin's home?

P.S. Liang Xiao is my favorite protagonist←←.