A Little Interesting

"Guang Ling."

At the Grand Consecrated Elder's command, Guangling Douluo—who had been standing with his hands clasped behind his head—instantly crossed a hundred meters and appeared beside Zhang Yang.

Once there, Guangling Douluo raised a hand and tapped Zhang Yang once on the chest, once on the left shoulder, and once on the right.

Three streams of warmth surged downward at the same time, reaching Zhang Yang's dantian almost instantly.

Zhang Yang felt his body shudder. A tingling sensation swept over him, then vanished in an instant.

But from that moment on, he couldn't feel a trace of Soul Power.

The next moment, the air inside Elder Hall rippled faintly.

The air around Zhang Yang seemed to solidify. He couldn't move even a finger.

Vast, scorching Soul Power, as mighty and blazing as the sun, surged in from every direction, pressing in on Zhang Yang's body from all sides, leaving no opening.

Zhang Yang knew exactly what Qian Daoliu was doing. High-level Soul Masters on the Douluo Continent loved to bully young, low-ranking Soul Masters this way.

But he'd never heard of anyone sealing away their Soul Power before doing it.

Wasn't this supposed to test a young Soul Master's control over Soul Power and willpower?

What was the point of sealing his Soul Power? Were they testing his physical strength?

As Zhang Yang's thoughts ran wild, Guangling Douluo suddenly punched him in the stomach.

The pain made Zhang Yang instinctively tense every muscle in his body.

To his surprise, that single punch made him feel as if the pressure on his whole body had eased considerably.

At the same time, Guangling Douluo's voice sounded in his ear. "Tighten your core. Imagine curling into a ball, you blockhead."

The Consecrated Elders on the dais paid no heed to Guangling Douluo instructing Zhang Yang. They simply watched to see how long he could hold out.

Seeing not a hint of pain on Zhang Yang's face, Qian Daoliu's expression turned intrigued.

As a Level 99 Limit Douluo, Qian Daoliu's control over Soul Power was nothing short of consummate.

At first, he had applied pressure that a Level 40 Soul Master could just barely withstand, though not without difficulty.

By all rights, Zhang Yang should have been showing some pain by now.

After all, he was only eleven. His age alone meant his physical strength should put him at a disadvantage compared with other Level 40 Battle Soul Masters, placing him in the same league as an Auxiliary Soul Master.

On top of that, he couldn't use Soul Power to resist, so he should have been at an even greater disadvantage.

But Qian Daoliu hadn't expected Zhang Yang to show no reaction at all.

Judging by that expression, was the pressure he'd applied not even as bad as Guangling Douluo's punch?

"If he can take it, then let's give him a heavier load."

As Qian Daoliu thought this, the gray robe around him stirred though there was no wind.

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

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

The pressure kept mounting. Little by little, Zhang Yang began to look as though he was struggling under it.

His hands clenched into fists, his teeth ground together, and his nostrils flared as he fought to draw breath.

Qian Daoliu continued to raise the Soul Power suppression slowly. Guangling Douluo still looked unconcerned, but his gaze had stopped wandering.

The pressure suddenly surged. The muscles in Zhang Yang's face twitched twice as he strained against it.

The set of permanent teeth Zhang Yang had just grown clenched tightly, grinding with a "grr, grr" sound.

The pressure kept building. Even breathing had become difficult, and a soft groan escaped his throat.

"Ugh..."

As soon as the groan left his lips, Guangling Douluo's right hand blurred and smacked Zhang Yang on the shoulder.

The next moment, M14 appeared in Zhang Yang's hands, and Soul Power burst from his body.

Driven by Zhang Yang's intent to "tear the Soul Power suppression apart," his Soul Power became as sharp as a divine weapon and as keen as a needle's tip.

Following the direction of M14's muzzle, Zhang Yang's Soul Power solidified into an arrow that tore through the air, greatly easing the Soul Power pressure around him.

As Soul Power flowed through his body, Zhang Yang immediately felt the pressure lift.

"Idiot, how long do you think you can last with your Soul Power spread so thin? Condense it, shield yourself, and resist with everything you've got."

Guangling Douluo's reminder sounded in Zhang Yang's ear again.

But this time, Zhang Yang didn't obey.

As a top player who could solo three players on Black Room Bureau's map, Delta Force, Zhang Yang had an extremely aggressive instinct.

As the saying went, a useless general could exhaust an entire army.

No matter how sharp an arrow was, if it pointed the wrong way, it would only be snapped with ease.

Zhang Yang's relentless fighting spirit drove his razor-sharp, fully aggressive Soul Power. The force he unleashed now was enough to make even Titled Douluos look on in surprise.

"A little interesting," Qian Daoliu said, raising the Soul Power pressure from roughly Level 46 to Level 49 in an instant.

The pressure surged. Zhang Yang's Soul Power was forced to compress around his body.

But precisely because of that, the angle narrowed, and the tip of the Soul Power arrow—with M14's muzzle as its point—grew sharper, making it even easier to pierce the pressure.

But as the pressure continued to rise, Zhang Yang reached an extremely dangerous point.

His teeth ground together, but he still refused to give up.

Hold on. Keep holding on. Whatever doesn't break me can only make me stronger.

Zhang Yang's back remained ramrod straight.

No matter how heavy the pressure was, could it compare to carrying a heart and a tear in your pocket?

Back then, the livestream had over ten thousand viewers, and they were still calling their friends over to witness a round destined to go down in history.

But Zhang Yang had been born immune to pressure.

He'd relied on Ghost in the Smoke and Black Sea Divine Power to take Liu Tao down, then mutated a second later and tore through the space station seven times over. In the end, he'd wiped the map with eight kills and extracted with 45 million in loot.

I'd bet everything and won that round. Then I went from a mid-tier streamer to one of Delta Force's handful of top streamers.

And this round, I'm betting my entire fortune against you.

Seeing Zhang Yang ignore his well-meant advice, Guangling Douluo ground his teeth in frustration.

"Fool. If you won't listen to your elders, you'll suffer for it."

The Soul Power pressure continued to rise.

Zhang Yang continued to hold on.

His fingernails had dug into his flesh. His face had turned bright red. His bones were already creaking.

But he was still holding on.

Guangling Douluo stood beside Zhang Yang, looking from Qian Daoliu to Zhang Yang. Then he suddenly clasped his hands behind his head, his lips moving slightly.

By now, Zhang Yang's brain was starting to feel light-headed from lack of oxygen. Suddenly, Guangling Douluo's unmistakable boyish voice rang in his mind.

"The Soul Power pressure's about at the peak of Level 49. The promised Level 50 is almost here."

"This final step is the one you have to hold out through, you little fool."

At those words, Zhang Yang's spirits surged, and his mind cleared.

Just then, the Soul Power pressure that had already become almost unbearable suddenly climbed to a whole new height.

Zhang Yang's vision went black for an instant. His head spun, and his sight began to blur.

"This... is Level 50 Soul Power pressure? It's... it's really... a little interesting."

Zhang Yang forced the words through clenched teeth.

It was a perfect answer to Qian Daoliu's earlier remark: "A little interesting."

His teeth were chattering, and a thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.

But Zhang Yang still held on.

Beneath the statue.

Golden Crocodile Douluo opened his eyes and looked at Zhang Yang with interest.

Mighty Lion Douluo leaned forward with his arms crossed, looking thoroughly pleased.

Azure Luan Douluo stood with his hands clasped behind his back. His expression remained calm, but his smoky blue pupils contracted slightly.

Thousand Jun Douluo still held up two fingers like a sword, his expression stern. At some point, though, he had closed his eyes.

Falling Devil Douluo sat in his chair. The finger that had been tapping his temple moved to his chin, and a hint of delight appeared in his expression. "Heh-heh, excellent. I'm very pleased with this performance."

Guangling Douluo still looked carefree, but his hands, clasped behind his back, had clenched into fists.

"Phew."

Qian Daoliu let out a long breath and snapped his right sleeve. The terrifying Soul Power pressure, as crushing as Mount Tai, vanished in an instant.

With that tremendous force suddenly gone, Zhang Yang's Soul Power, which had been teetering on the brink, surged fifty meters outward.

"Smack."

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

The blow wasn't hard, but it was the final straw that broke the camel's back.

Zhang Yang staggered. He hurriedly planted M14 on the ground and gripped its barrel, barely managing to stand upright.

The Soul Power that had surged outward vanished as soon as it reached the edge of the dais.

If Zhang Yang's Soul Power had struck the Consecrated Elders on the dais, he could never have escaped the charge of showing contempt for his superiors.

As if he'd just fought a great battle, his hands trembled slightly, and his legs had gone weak.

"Guangling, I can see that he takes to you. Then you'll be the one to take him in."

"Understood."

Guangling Douluo bowed respectfully, then hoisted Zhang Yang—who was less than ten centimeters shorter than him—over his shoulder. With a flicker, he left Elder Hall.

Lying across Guangling Douluo's shoulder, Zhang Yang looked up at the enormous golden statue again as they passed through the doors of Elder Hall.

Zhang Yang swore silently to himself.

Once he reached Level 91 and could enter the [Spirit City—Classified] map, he'd pry that golden statue loose and haul it back to the Special Operations Bureau.