Huo Yuhao: Back Then, I Kept My Hands in My Pockets and Didn't Know the Meaning of an Opponent

"How is this possible? This can't be!"

Zhou Yi stared at the scene, her face full of disbelief.

She stood below the Soul Fighting Platform, both hands clenched tight. Her knuckles had gone white from the force, and shock and disbelief churned in the depths of her eyes, threatening to overwhelm her reason.

She had thought this would be a one-sided match in Liu Ping's favor—a Level 23 Soul Grandmaster against a Level 13 Soul Master, with one extra Soul Ring, twice the Soul Power, and a year more combat experience.

The battle should have been decided from the start. Huo Yuhao would soon be beaten to his knees and begging for mercy, then honor their bet by kneeling in apology to her in front of everyone at Shrek Square, before slinking out of Shrek.

But she hadn't expected—

It really was a one-sided match.

Only it was the Level 13 Soul Master Huo Yuhao who was crushing his opponent.

One move.

Just one move.

Liu Ping hadn't even had a chance to fight back before a single palm strike sent him flying unconscious.

Zhou Yi's chest heaved, and it felt as though a ball of fire were lodged in her throat.

She stared at the slender figure on the platform, her teeth grinding together.

Meanwhile, Mu Jin was just as shocked.

Standing at the front of the crowd, he stared with wide eyes and parted lips, forgetting to close his mouth.

But the shock in his eyes soon turned to elation.

Mu Jin murmured inwardly, I bet on the right person.

He had known the boy before him had a hidden ace.

From the moment Huo Yuhao had confronted Zhou Yi in the classroom, Mu Jin had sensed in him a certainty and composure far beyond his years.

It wasn't bluster or youthful bravado. It was the look of someone who had truly faced life and death and held his fate in his own hands.

That was why he had chosen to trust him.

That was why he had suppressed his urge to intervene and watched quietly.

And now—

Huo Yuhao had repaid his trust with a single palm strike.

Mu Jin's lips curved slightly, and an appreciative smile appeared in his eyes.

The same shock had struck the students from both classes.

The students of Class One and Class Nine were all sitting stock-still, their expressions a sight to behold.

Some gaped. Some stared wide-eyed. Some rose to their feet without thinking. Some covered their faces with both hands, unable to watch—but without exception, everyone's mind kept replaying what they had just seen.

Huo Yuhao pinching a blade between two fingers. Huo Yuhao thrusting out a palm.

Liu Ping flying backward, unconscious on the spot.

The scene had been so shocking, so unbelievable, that they still hadn't recovered.

In the crowd, Wang Dong kept his eyes fixed on Huo Yuhao.

His brows were knitted, and complicated emotions swirled in his eyes—shock, confusion, and more.

He believed that with his strength and the quality of his Martial Soul, he could defeat Liu Ping without trouble.

But he couldn't do it so easily.

He couldn't make it look so effortless.

And he certainly couldn't do it in a single move.

Ning Tian's eyes held not only shock but also a look of vindication.

She slowly sat up straight. Her platinum hair shimmered softly in the sunlight, and a faint smile appeared in her azure eyes.

She had said she couldn't possibly have misjudged him.

From the moment Huo Yuhao stepped onto the Soul Fighting Platform, she had sensed something different about him—mystery, quiet composure, certainty.

Those weren't things an ordinary boy should possess. They were the hard-won poise of someone who had weathered storms and tempered his character.

And now, her intuition had been proven right.

This Huo Yuhao was indeed extraordinary.

Wu Feng, meanwhile, was utterly dumbfounded.

She sat beside Ning Tian, staring with her mouth wide enough to fit an egg. The snack bag in her hand had long since slipped to the ground, spilling its contents everywhere, but she hadn't noticed at all.

A moment ago, she had confidently called Huo Yuhao an idiot, said Ning Tian was overthinking it, and insisted there was no way a Soul Master in the teens could beat a Soul Grandmaster in the twenties.

But now—

Reality had slapped her hard across the face.

Wu Feng's cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. She kept glancing away, not daring to look at Ning Tian.

On the platform, after defeating Liu Ping, Huo Yuhao slowly drew back his hand.

He glanced down at Liu Ping, who lay on the ground, and confirmed that he was only unconscious and in no danger. Then he looked away.

He slipped both hands into his pockets, raised his head, and looked past the sea of people below to Zhou Yi.

The boy's expression was calm, his gaze indifferent, as if he had just done something utterly trivial.

He spoke slowly. His voice wasn't loud, but everyone heard him clearly. "Next."

There was no smugness or mockery in his voice, only indifference.

A faint, matter-of-fact statement.

Almost as if he were asking—

How many more do you have? Send them up.

But to Zhou Yi, those three words were like a resounding slap across the face.

That indifferent gaze seemed to say, So that's all your students amount to.

A Level 23 fighter against me, a Level 13 Soul Master—with a ten-level Soul Power gap and a hundred-year Second Soul Ring—and still he couldn't beat me.

What a useless piece of trash.

"Useless. He really is useless!"

Watching two students carry Liu Ping down, Zhou Yi cursed inwardly.

She glared at the unconscious Liu Ping, anger raging in her chest, nearly burning her reason to ash.

But she quickly took a deep breath, suppressed her anger, and turned toward the entrance to the Soul Fighting Arena.

In all her years of teaching, Zhou Yi had never suffered such a humiliating defeat at the hands of a new student.

But it didn't matter.

Liu Ping had lost, but she still had a second student, then a third.

She refused to believe Huo Yuhao could keep winning.

Before long, the second student Zhou Yi had called over arrived with her below the Soul Fighting Platform.

He was a burly boy, half a head taller than Liu Ping, with broad shoulders, a thick back, and bulging muscles in his arms. At a glance, he was clearly a strength-type Soul Master.

He wore a dark blue uniform, his eyes sharp as an eagle's, and a fierce air hung about him.

"Zhou Yang, give Huo Yuhao everything you've got. Don't make the same mistake Liu Ping did!"

Zhou Yi looked at the boy who had arrived and gave him a stern warning.

She fixed her gaze on Zhou Yang, her tone carrying an unmistakable authority.

Zhou Yang was one of the standout students of her teaching career.

A third-year student, his Martial Soul was the Crimson Flame Lion, and his Soul Power Level was a full 25—two levels higher than Liu Ping's.

When he had first enrolled, his combat strength had ranked among the top fifty in his year. There was no need to question his ability.

More importantly, Zhou Yang's fighting style was entirely different from Liu Ping's.

Liu Ping was a weapon-type Soul Master who relied on the sharpness and strength of his Martial Soul.

Zhou Yang was a beast-type Soul Master, with more versatile fighting abilities and greater resistance to blows.

Even more importantly, Zhou Yang had plenty of combat experience and a cool head. He wouldn't underestimate his opponent and charge in recklessly like Liu Ping.