The Strength of a Martial Artist

A brief silence fell over the arena, followed by a thunderous round of applause.

"Wow, that was incredible!"

"So cool!"

One spectator, still shaken, glanced at the pillar shattered by the Great Ape, then looked back at Sun Mo, sucking in a sharp breath.

"He turned into a giant gorilla, and he still beat him—amazing!"

"Yeah, the destruction power of that gorilla form was terrifying, yet he broke it in just a few moves!"

Bulma said, "Goku's move was way too risky. If Sun Mo had taken that hit even slightly wrong, he'd be black and blue!"

Amy looked at the footprints and broken bricks on the ring, swallowed hard, and said, "Just black and blue? If I got hit by that, I'd be in pieces all over the place..."

Bulma shook her head with great confidence. "Don't worry, you don't understand how tough Martial Artists are. Their bodies are sturdy—they don't die that easily."

Amy blinked.

"Really?"

Bulma laughed. "Of course. Once, due to a misunderstanding, Goku got hit with an axe. All he got was a big lump. A normal person would've been split in half..."

Amy gulped hard. "Martial Artists are so amazing!"

A few nearby Martial Artists shot Bulma an incredulous look, then silently turned their eyes back to the ring, saying nothing.

Goku woke up, but his clothes had been torn to shreds, leaving him bare. Krillin stripped off his outer layer and handed it to Goku to wear.

Goku clenched his fists. "My training still isn't enough. I'll work even harder!"

The referee stepped onto the ring and shouted, "The World Martial Arts Tournament finals are about to begin! Contestant Sun Mo, please stay on stage. Contestant Jackie Chun, please come up!"

"Alright, the World Martial Arts Tournament finals are finally starting!"

"Who will take home the five hundred thousand prize money? We'll know soon!"

"I can't wait!"

"I can't even imagine how amazing their fight will be!"

Amid the noise, Jackie Chun stepped onto the ring with a serious expression. He kept telling himself inside: I can't lose. I have to get serious now!

Sun Mo didn't dare be careless. He set his opening stance.

Jackie Chun, unlike before when he always stood with his hands behind his back like a master, now faced Sun Mo with his own stance.

"I won't hold back!"

Sun Mo replied, "I'll give it my all!"

The referee backed up to the corner of the ring, raised his microphone, and shouted, "Finals, begin!"

"Haah!"

With a fierce yell, Jackie Chun charged at Sun Mo. His body moved like a leopard, fists like a gale, hammering toward Sun Mo.

Sun Mo didn't retreat or dodge. Instead, he swung a kick straight at Jackie Chun.

Jackie Chun was startled. Even if he landed a hit on Sun Mo, he'd take that kick square on.

At the critical moment, Jackie Chun burst backward, dodging Sun Mo's strike, and cursed, "Young man, no martial virtue!"

Sun Mo didn't pause. He followed up with an axe kick aimed at Jackie Chun.

Jackie Chun reacted swiftly, stomping hard and leaping back to evade the attack. But Sun Mo's axe kick was heavy and hard to pull back, slamming straight into the ring and shattering the bricks.

The audience had never seen anything like this. Thousands of spectators gathered together fell into dead silence. All that remained was the sound of the ring's bricks breaking.

Jackie Chun glanced at the broken bricks. "What a fool. What's the use of putting all that power into a hit that doesn't land?"

As he spoke, Jackie Chun flashed in, swept a kick across Sun Mo's back, and sent him stumbling forward. Sun Mo reacted quickly, rolling several times to steady himself.

Jackie Chun continued, "You don't have to go all out with every attack. Only strikes with just the right force can be withdrawn freely, letting you retreat safely from danger..."

His words carried a hint of a teaching tone.

Sun Mo wasn't ignorant of this common sense.

But he didn't like soft, flimsy fighting styles—unrestrained, exhilarating combat was his comfort zone.

Sun Mo let out a furious shout and charged at Jackie Chun again.

His fists were terrifyingly heavy; each blow forced Jackie Chun to sink his waist and block, his hands numbed from the impact.

The combo's speed was so fast it left only afterimages, as if every vital point on Jackie Chun was being attacked at once, impossible to defend against.

At the critical moment, Jackie Chun shouted, "Afterimage Technique!"

With a "swish," Jackie Chun's figure blurred instantly.

Sun Mo's fist punched through empty air.

The audience gasped at the sight.

"Wow, three Jackie Chuns appeared at the same time—what an amazing technique!"

Sun Mo focused and said, "So this is the Afterimage Technique? Interesting!"

The next moment, Sun Mo lunged at one of the afterimages.

His heavy fist shattered the phantom in an instant—it was a fake.

"You fell for it!"

At the same time, Jackie Chun's real body kicked at Sun Mo.

Seeing no time to dodge, Sun Mo raised his arms to block the kick.

Though Sun Mo slid back a distance, he was completely unharmed.

Jackie Chun had expended plenty of stamina using the Afterimage Technique, but when it landed on Sun Mo, it only stung a little—Sun Mo's consumption was even less than Jackie Chun's.

Seeing his attack had no effect, Jackie Chun clicked his tongue. "This kid's fundamentals are too strong—what a headache..."

Jackie Chun never expected that the flexible, unpredictable Afterimage Technique would be broken by such a crude method.

It was a pure trade of a sliver of HP for half the opponent's mana bar.

After taking several hits, Sun Mo showed no sign of fatigue and raised his fists to attack again.

Jackie Chun, still vigorous in his old age, relied on his rich experience and pulled out every trick to spar with him.

For a moment, the ring was filled with layers of afterimages, and the sound of air splitting was endless.

The referee, seeing their solid techniques and impenetrable flurry of fists and feet, couldn't help but praise in his commentary.

"This is truly an unexpected match! One is a martial arts master with consummate skill, the other a spirited young man—absolutely thrilling."

In just a few minutes, they had exchanged hundreds of punches.

Finally, the round ended, and they separated.

Jackie Chun was already panting heavily, but Sun Mo was only slightly sweating.

In terms of stamina, the young man was stronger and more enduring.

Jackie Chun's mind raced.

After a moment, he suddenly thought of a move, and his body began to wobble unsteadily.

Seeing this, Sun Mo immediately called out his technique.

"Drunken Fist?"

"How could that possibly beat me?"

With that, Sun Mo charged at Jackie Chun again.

But just as Sun Mo was about to land a hit, Jackie Chun staggered aside to dodge the punch, then spun and kicked Sun Mo, sending him stumbling back.

Sun Mo rubbed his chest—it didn't hurt—and said in surprise, "So this is Drunken Fist!"

He looked at Jackie Chun, who was swaying unsteadily, seeming full of openings, yet not quite like openings at all.

Sun Mo didn't dare be careless and immediately changed his attack.