This Is Interesting

"Guangling."

Hearing the order from the Chief Consecrated Elder, Guangling Douluo, who had been resting his hands behind his head, instantly traversed a hundred meters and appeared directly beside Zhang Yang.

Upon reaching Zhang Yang's side, Guangling Douluo raised his hand and tapped him once on the chest, the left shoulder, and the right shoulder.

Three streams of heat surged downward simultaneously, reaching Zhang Yang's dantian in almost an instant.

Zhang Yang felt his body jolt, a sensation of numbness washing over him before vanishing just as quickly.

But from this moment on, Zhang Yang could not sense even a shred of soul power within him.

The next moment, the air inside the Elder Hall twisted slightly.

Zhang Yang felt as if the air around him had solidified, leaving him unable to move even a single finger.

Soul power, vast and scorching like the sun, surged in from all directions, pressing down on Zhang Yang's body from every angle without a single blind spot.

Zhang Yang naturally knew what Qian Daoliu was doing; high-level soul masters on the Douluo Continent loved to use this method to bully younger soul masters of lower rank.

However, this was the first time Zhang Yang had heard of someone sealing a person's soul power before playing this game.

Wasn't this trick meant to test a young soul master's control over their soul power and their willpower?

What was there to measure by sealing the soul power? Physical strength?

Just as Zhang Yang was lost in these wild thoughts, Guangling Douluo suddenly punched him in the stomach.

Zhang Yang winced in pain, his muscles tightening instinctively.

To his surprise, this single blow made the pressure on his entire body feel significantly lighter.

At the same time, Guangling Douluo's voice echoed in Zhang Yang's ear: "Tighten your core, imagine yourself curled into a ball, don't just stand there like a fool."

The several Consecrated Elders on the platform turned a blind eye to Guangling Douluo's guidance, watching quietly to see how long Zhang Yang could hold out.

Seeing that Zhang Yang's expression remained devoid of pain, Qian Daoliu's expression became somewhat intrigued.

As a level 99 Limit Douluo, Qian Daoliu's control over soul power was nothing short of masterful.

Initially, he had only applied pressure equivalent to what a level 40 soul master could just barely withstand, though it would still be difficult.

Under normal circumstances, Zhang Yang should have shown some signs of distress by now.

After all, Zhang Yang was only 11 years old; given his age, his physical fitness should have been at a disadvantage compared to other level 40 battle soul masters, putting him on par with support-type soul masters.

Furthermore, with his soul power sealed, his ability to resist should have been even weaker.

But to Qian Daoliu's surprise, Zhang Yang showed no reaction at all.

Judging by his expression, was the pressure he was applying not even as intense as that punch from Guangling Douluo?

"Since he can handle it, let's increase the burden."

Thinking this, the grey robes around Qian Daoliu fluttered without a breeze.

A hundred meters away, Zhang Yang could clearly feel the pressure around him slowly increasing.

Beside him, Guangling Douluo still had his hands behind his head, his gaze darting across Zhang Yang's face.

The pressure continued to rise steadily, and gradually, Zhang Yang began to show signs of struggling under the weight.

He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and flared his nostrils, breathing heavily.

Qian Daoliu continued to slowly increase the soul power suppression, and while Guangling Douluo still appeared indifferent, his gaze stopped darting around.

The pressure spiked, and the muscles on Zhang Yang's face twitched involuntarily from the sheer effort.

Zhang Yang's newly replaced permanent teeth ground together, emitting a "clacking" sound.

As the pressure mounted, even breathing became difficult for Zhang Yang, and a soft groan escaped his throat.

"Ugh..."

The moment the groan escaped, Guangling Douluo's right hand blurred like an afterimage, striking Zhang Yang's shoulder.

The next instant, Lord M14 appeared in Zhang Yang's hand, and soul power erupted from within his body.

Driven by Zhang Yang's intent to "tear through the soul power suppression," his energy became as sharp as a divine weapon and as pointed as a needle.

Following the direction pointed by the barrel of Lord M14, Zhang Yang's soul power condensed into an arrow that pierced the air, greatly alleviating the pressure surrounding him.

As the soul power flowed through him, Zhang Yang felt the pressure on his body diminish significantly.

"Fool, how long do you think you can last with your soul power spread so thin? Condense it, protect your body, and resist with everything you have."

Guangling Douluo's prompt echoed in Zhang Yang's ear again.

But this time, Zhang Yang did not obey.

As an expert capable of soloing high-difficulty raids in the Black Room Bureau, Zhang Yang possessed an incredibly strong desire to attack.

As the saying goes, an incompetent general exhausts the entire army.

No matter how sharp an arrow is, if the aim is off, it will only end up being easily snapped.

Zhang Yang's indomitable fighting spirit drove his now aggressively sharp soul power, erupting with a force that even a Title Douluo couldn't help but notice.

"Interesting." Qian Daoliu remarked, instantly increasing the soul power pressure from around level 46 to level 49.

The pressure surged, forcing Zhang Yang's soul power to compress tightly around his body.

Yet, precisely because of this, the angle narrowed, making the tip of the soul power arrow—centered on the muzzle of the M14—sharper and allowing it to pierce through the soul power oppression with greater ease.

But as the pressure continued to mount, Zhang Yang found himself in a perilous situation.

Zhang Yang's teeth chattered and ground together, yet he refused to give up.

Persist, keep persisting. What doesn't crush me can only make me stronger.

Zhang Yang's spine remained straight as a ramrod.

No matter how great the pressure, could it compare to the weight of carrying a heart and a tear in one's pocket?

Back then, the livestream had over 10,000 viewers, and the audience was calling their friends to witness a match that would go down in history.

But Zhang Yang was born to thrive under pressure.

Relying solely on Ghost in the Smoke and Black Sea Divine Power, he cut down Liu Tao, mutated in a split second, fought his way in and out of the aerospace base, cleared the map with 8 kills, and extracted with 45 million in loot.

I won that bet, and I went from a small-time streamer to one of the top-tier streamers in Delta Force.

And in this match, I am betting everything I have against you.

Seeing Zhang Yang ignore his well-intentioned advice, Guangling Douluo felt his teeth itch with frustration.

"Foolish. If you don't listen to the elders, you'll be the one to suffer."

The soul power oppression continued to escalate.

Zhang Yang was still holding on.

His fingernails had dug into his own flesh; his face had flushed a deep red; his bones were already creaking.

Yet, he was still holding on.

Guangling Douluo, standing beside Zhang Yang, glanced at Qian Daoliu and then at Zhang Yang, suddenly clasping his hands behind his head as his lips moved slightly.

At this moment, with his brain suffering from mild hypoxia and dizziness, Zhang Yang suddenly heard Guangling Douluo's signature youthful voice echoing in his mind.

"The soul power oppression is currently at the peak of level 49. It's about to hit the level 50 we agreed upon."

"You silly boy, you'd better hold on for this final hurdle."

As these words fell, Zhang Yang's spirit instantly rallied, and the depths of his mind became clear.

Just then, the soul power oppression, which had already been nearly unbearable for Zhang Yang, surged to a brand-new height in an instant.

Zhang Yang felt his vision go black for a moment; his head spun, and his sight began to blur.

"Is... is this the soul power oppression of level 50? It, it truly is... a little interesting."

Zhang Yang squeezed these words out through his teeth.

It was a perfect response to Qian Daoliu's earlier remark about it being "a little interesting."

At this moment, his teeth were chattering, and a trickle of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.

But Zhang Yang still held on.

Beneath the statue.

Golden Crocodile Douluo, who had been meditating, opened his eyes and looked at Zhang Yang with keen interest.

Mighty Lion Douluo, arms crossed over his chest, leaned forward with a look of great satisfaction.

Qing Luan Douluo, hands behind his back, maintained a calm expression, though his smoke-blue pupils contracted slightly.

Thousand Jun Douluo remained stoic with his fingers held in a sword gesture, though he had closed his eyes at some point.

Falling Devil Douluo sat in his chair, his fingers moving from his temple to his chin, his expression showing a hint of pleasure: "Heh, very good. I am very satisfied with this performance."

Guangling Douluo maintained his usual cynical air, but his hands, hidden behind his back, were clenched into fists.

"Hoo."

Qian Daoliu let out a long breath and flicked his right sleeve sharply, causing the terrifying, mountain-crushing soul power oppression to vanish into thin air.

As the massive force suddenly dissipated, Zhang Yang's own soul power, which had been teetering on the edge, instantly surged outward for fifty meters.

"Slap."

Guangling Douluo, standing beside Zhang Yang, suddenly patted him on the head.

The force of the slap was light, but it became the final straw that broke the camel's back.

Zhang Yang's body staggered, and he quickly used his M14 to prop himself up, gripping the barrel to barely remain standing.

The surging soul power vanished the moment it reached the edge of the steps.

Had Zhang Yang's soul power impacted the Consecrated Elders on the platform, he would have been unable to escape the charge of disrespecting his superiors.

Feeling as though he had just survived a great battle, his hands trembled slightly, and his legs felt weak and sore.

"Guangling, I see he suits your fancy, so you shall be the one to take him under your wing."

"As you command."

Guangling Douluo bowed respectfully, then hoisted Zhang Yang—who was less than ten centimeters shorter than him—onto his shoulder and vanished from the Elder Hall in a flash.

Lying on Guangling Douluo's shoulder as they passed through the gates of the Elder Hall, Zhang Yang looked up once more at the massive golden statue.

Zhang Yang silently swore to himself.

When he reached level 91 and could enter the [Martial Soul City - Top Secret] map, he would definitely pry this golden statue loose and haul it back to the Special Operations Bureau.