Cannonball Pervert

A loud "bang" exploded within the mist-filled bathhouse.

A massive wooden basin filled with scalding hot water traced a perfect parabola through the air, landing with unerring precision squarely on the head of Yu Xiaogang.

The basin, originally used for soaking dirty laundry, was not only filled with boiling water but also topped with a layer of murky, soapy foam.

The scalding water instantly cascaded down his scalp, pouring directly into the collar of his shirt.

Yu Xiaogang let out a shrill, pig-like shriek of agony, his hands clawing frantically at his head in a desperate attempt to pry off the basin that was wedged firmly in place.

His fingers were pierced by splinters on the rim of the basin, and blood mixed with hot water streamed down his face.

Immediately following, countless hard bars of soap and coarse, water-logged scrubbing cloths rained down upon him like a hailstorm.

The bars of soap struck his forehead and shoulders with dull, heavy thuds.

"Beat this shameless old pervert to death!"

"To think he'd dare barge into the women's bathhouse—he must be tired of living!"

The furious dormitory matrons displayed astonishing combat prowess.

The most robust matron, whose arms were a full circle thicker than those of an average man, charged toward Yu Xiaogang with long, heavy strides.

In her hand, she brandished a filthy mop caked in black grime and white soap suds.

Yu Xiaogang had just managed to yank the basin off his head; his scalp was already scorched bright red, with several blisters beginning to form.

Just as he opened his mouth to explain that he had been forced into this, the filthy mop was shoved directly into his maw.

"Mmph-mmph!"

Yu Xiaogang's screams were instantly stifled, his mouth filled with nauseating muddy water and soap suds.

The acrid, foul stench rushed straight to his brain, stinging his eyes until tears streamed down his face.

He was shoved backward by the mop until his feet slipped, sending him crashing hard onto the water-slicked floor.

The back of his head struck the hard tiles with a dull thud, leaving him seeing stars.

Several hot-tempered female instructors didn't hold back in the slightest, immediately activating their Martial Soul Possession within the bathhouse.

"First Soul Skill, Rampaging Vines!"

The vines in the hands of a plant-type female instructor transformed into barbed whips, the light of her soul ring flickering through the mist.

She lashed out with the whips, raining a flurry of strikes onto Yu Xiaogang's back.

The crisp sound of whipping echoed through the bathhouse; the robe on Yu Xiaogang's back was shredded instantly, leaving behind streaks of bleeding welts.

"How dare you peek at me bathing! I'll cripple you today!" Another female instructor, currently under Martial Soul Possession, had hands transformed into razor-sharp cat claws.

She leaped, straddling Yu Xiaogang's back and unleashing a merciless barrage of punches and kicks upon his cheeks and shoulders.

Yu Xiaogang was pinned firmly against the slippery tiled floor by the women, his body being ground into the ground.

The black robe he wore had long since been torn into rags, hanging pitifully from his frame and failing to cover anything at all.

His cheeks were dragged across the rough, non-slip floor tiles, scraping away large patches of skin.

He waved his hands frantically, desperate to explain that this was all a misunderstanding.

"I... I am..."

Every time he opened his mouth, he was met with an even more violent strike from the mop.

The robust matron gave him no chance to speak, jabbing the mop into his face like she was pounding garlic, leaving his face a bloody mess and loosening several of his teeth.

Muddy water flowed into his nostrils, causing him to choke and cough violently.

The commotion outside grew increasingly intense.

News of the attack on the women's bathhouse spread like wildfire, instantly reaching every corner of the Nuoding Primary Soul Master Academy.

Countless male students, not even bothering to dress properly, flocked to the bathhouse in droves to watch the spectacle.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, packing the open space outside the bathhouse until it was completely impassable.

They stood on tiptoe, necks craned to peer inside, pointing and whispering as the chatter rose in waves.

"Who is that inside? He's got some nerve—is he trying to get himself killed?"

"That guy is a true Champion; he actually dared to barge into the shared bathhouse of the female instructors and students in broad daylight."

"Judging by the screams, he's probably already been beaten half-crippled. Those female instructors usually look so gentle, but they're absolute tigresses when they fight."

"Serves him right; a pervert like that deserves to be beaten to death."

Su Yu leaned against a low wall outside the bathhouse, nonchalantly spitting out a sunflower seed shell.

With his arms crossed over his chest, he watched Yu Xiaogang—who was beaten so black and blue that even his own mother wouldn't recognize him—without a shred of sympathy.

A parasite who climbed the ranks by siphoning the fortune of others, he would stop at nothing for his own gain, even attempting to drain Tang Wu dry like a blood bag.

Meeting such an end was entirely his own doing.

The Conceptual Eraser had tampered with the underlying logic of the system, reducing this high-and-mighty transmigrator to nothing more than a laughingstock toyed with by the rules.

Su Yu thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of having everything under his control.

"Move! Everyone, get out of the way!"

An anxious shout came from behind the crowd.

Old Dean, accompanied by several high-ranking instructors, panted as he pushed through the onlookers, arriving at the scene drenched in sweat.

Old Dean's uniform was disheveled from his sprint; he wiped the sweat from his forehead while sternly scolding the students who were gathered to watch the spectacle.

When Old Dean finally squeezed to the front and saw the scene inside the bathhouse, he froze in place.

He saw the pervert being trampled underfoot by a group of women, his face covered in blood and a dirty mop stuffed into his mouth—it was none other than Grandmaster Yu Xiaogang, the man he had just treated like a deity and personally welcomed at the main gate.

Old Dean could hardly believe his eyes.

He rubbed his eyes vigorously and looked again.

That signature buzz cut, that black robe—though torn into rags, its material was still recognizable—all served as proof of the pervert's identity.

Old Dean's blood pressure spiked instantly; his vision went black, his legs turned to jelly, and he nearly fainted on the spot.

The two instructors beside him quickly reached out to steady him.

"This... this is an utter disgrace!" Old Dean trembled with rage, pointing at Yu Xiaogang inside, his finger shaking uncontrollably.

He turned his head, furious, and roared at the male instructors behind him: "What are you standing there for! Hurry up and charge in there to drag that shameful bastard out!"

The male instructors looked at each other, their hearts sinking as they gazed at the enraged female instructors and middle-aged women inside.

But they could not defy the Dean's order, so they had to steel themselves and charge into the chaotic women's bathhouse.

Enduring the furious glares of the female instructors, they used every ounce of their strength—even suffering several accidental lashes from vines and scratches from cat claws—before finally managing to drag the half-dead Yu Xiaogang out from under the feet of the women.