Harvesting

As night falls, the Tianjin Martial Arts Hall is brightly lit.

There was nothing to do before the match and no preparations were needed, but Zhang Yang, being responsible, still asked Director Ye to compile information about the opponent.

The images are currently being analyzed one by one on the projector screen.

"Kim Woong-ho, with a professional record of 20 wins, 3 losses, and 8 knockouts..."

"Matsui Jiro, with a professional record of 19 wins, 2 losses, and 9 knockouts..."

To be fair, these top-tier fighters are all at their peak, and are considered fighting stars in their respective countries and even on the world fighting stage.

This lineup really does reflect his current abilities.

"That's enough." Zhang Yang only glanced at it briefly, adhering to the principle of knowing yourself and your enemy to win every battle.

But in reality, to put it bluntly, these people aren't even worth a finger of his.

In literature, there is no first place; in martial arts, there is no second. His strength is superhuman, and he is also inclusive, possessing ten elite-level traditional martial arts. Being a little arrogant is not only not inappropriate, but also just right.

"Mr. Zhang, I heard from Mr. Chen that you killed a bull with a single blow in Beijing. Is that true?" Director Ye hesitated for a moment, but finally asked.

"Yes." Zhang Yang nodded in agreement.

"Ah!" Director Ye gasped, nearly losing his balance.

The bull, charging at full speed, overturned a small car; he couldn't even imagine what would happen if flesh and blood collided with this bull.

But in this person's eyes, it was just a palm strike?

In other words, did this palm strike land on a person?

"Mr. Zhang, please go easy on me in this competition." Director Ye was drenched in cold sweat.

These were all people he had painstakingly recruited using Chen Zhang's name; if they all ended up dead or injured in this competition, things would be disastrous...

It's true that we should promote traditional martial arts, but there's also a saying: friendship first, competition second.

A match that is bloody and violent is undoubtedly inappropriate and does not fit the overall tone.

Zhang Yang glanced at him.

"Once a fight breaks out in the ring, why should I care about the severity of the injury?"

Director Ye quickly took out a tissue and wiped the sweat from his face, unable to say a word.

"Alright, brother, stop scaring Old Ye." Chen Zhang shook his head and smiled. "Don't worry, Old Ye, Zhang Yang knows what he's doing."

Zhang Yang was well aware of the situation.

His current skill level is already at a point where he can control his opponent's strength at will, inflicting whatever damage he wants.

He can send his opponent flying unscathed, or deliver a seemingly effortless punch that can actually cause serious injury and internal organ damage.

This is the ultimate control over force.

"Well, I do have a sense of the big picture," he said casually.

In this arena match, it's unlikely that the opponents will be either killed or crippled, but breaking a few ribs is as easy as child's play, right?

"That's good." Director Ye breathed a sigh of relief.

This is the first time in history that, before the competition has even started, the organizer has been worried about the opponent's fate.

"Mr. Zhang, Mr. Zhang." Lu Yao's voice came from outside the conference room, "Could you take another look at my punch? It feels a bit awkward..."

Inside the meeting room, the group exchanged smiles.

"Why don't you just give your Lu Yao to Zhang Yang as a driver's assistant? She could at least learn a few tricks from him," Chen Zhang said.

"I would like to, but I'm afraid it might be inconvenient for Mr. Zhang..." Director Ye looked at Zhang Yang.

"It's not very convenient." Zhang Yang shook his head and smiled, then stood up and walked out of the conference room.

··

The following afternoon, at the Tianjin Gymnasium.

Before the mixed martial arts competition, there was an immense buzz, with martial arts enthusiasts from all over the country traveling long distances to watch the grand event.

To be fair, the well-known fighters participating today actually have quite a few fans in China.

Many fans came to show their support.

"Where's your mother? You're cheering for foreigners instead of Mr. Long?!"

"What you're saying is a bit funny. I just genuinely like this contestant. Don't you have a few foreign movie stars or singers you admire? Besides, this Mr. Long, just hearing the name makes it sound a bit cringeworthy... Don't you guys feel awkward?"

"You're asking for it!"

Inside the stadium, there was still more than an hour before the match.

Zhang Yang and Chen Zhang sat backstage in the VIP section, chatting casually while looking down at the stadium setup.

A mixed martial arts (MMA) event, with a host of big-name sponsors in attendance.

The resources of the event organizers are evident.

Even though there was still quite some time before the match, crowds were already surging at the stadium entrance.

"All tickets are sold out, so we sold a large batch of standing tickets," said Director Ye.

"If you had pocketed all the profits, I would definitely call you a wicked capitalist, but since you've donated them all, I can only say you did a good job," Zhang Yang chuckled. "Alright, I'm going backstage now."

He casually prepared to put on the mask.

"Dude, are you really planning to keep wearing this?" Chen Zhang glanced at it and couldn't help but joke, "If you show your face, after today's battle, I guarantee you'll be famous throughout the country and internationally, with endless money and honor!"

Zhang Yang, wearing a mask, glanced at Chen Zhang.

Chen Zhang stared with his mouth agape as a Cantonese song suddenly echoed in his mind.

"One step, one punch, the mindset of kung fu..."

"Oh dear, my brain!" Chen Zhang clutched his head and cried out in alarm.

Backstage at the competition venue, Zhang Yang waited quietly.

Wearing a mask isolates you from reality and your true self.

Therefore, Zhang Yang would call tonight a night of trophies.

Time passed by, minute by minute.

Zhang Yang sat in the private waiting room, his eyes slightly closed, listening to the faint, thunderous surging of the crowd outside.

It seems the host has already gone up to the stage.

"It's your turn to prepare..."

Inside the waiting room, there was a gentle knock, and a staff member leaned in and quietly informed them.

Zhang Yang suddenly opened his eyes.

Suddenly, the dimly lit waiting room seemed to light up for a moment the instant Zhang Yang opened his eyes.

"Ah, this..." The staff member's eyes widened, thinking he was hallucinating, and he was completely horrified.

"I understand." He stood up.

He had no idea that he had just triggered the electrifying effect of the Master Aura in the virtual room.

As night fell, the stadium was bustling with activity.

On the large screen, the profiles of the contestants flashed continuously. Each one was a rising star in the world of combat sports, enjoying a renowned reputation internationally. The screen also continuously displayed exciting knockout moments from their professional careers.

After watching, I only had one feeling: these people are incredibly strong, extremely strong.

In reality, these are all underhanded tactics employed by the companies operating behind the scenes.

The more the opponent's strength is emphasized, the more it highlights Zhang Yang's absolute invincibility as the victor.

Yes, even before it started, Zhang Yang was already labeled as a sure winner.

"Alright, next up, please welcome our two combatants, Yodsanklai from Siam, and... Mr. Long!" the host shouted.

The roar of the crowd surged like a tidal wave.

A short while later, Yodsanklai, a boxer from Siam, walked onto the ring with his hands raised and sharp eyes.

On the other side of the ring.

Under the spotlight, a masked figure stepped out; it was Zhang Yang.

Actually, a duel that could have ended in a second is instead given a lot of build-up, introductions, and a tidal wave of cheers from the audience.

Zhang Yang adjusted his mask and had no choice but to cooperate with the organizers, waving to the audience.

On the field, everyone's eyes were drawn to the figure on the stage, who was undoubtedly the protagonist of the day.

"Wow! That's impressive!" someone couldn't help but exclaim.

The figure on the field was tall and straight, as immovable as a high mountain, and an aura of a master was emanating from him.

To be honest, even though the fight hasn't started yet, anyone would give him a thumbs up for his looks.

"It shouldn't be... just a showpiece, right?"

"How could someone who's just putting on a show be confident enough to stand under so many eyes?" someone chuckled.

The overwhelming atmosphere on the field and the online frenzy among netizens have destined this event to attract nationwide attention.

The referee enters the arena.

"Alright! Begin!" he whistled.

Yodsanklai stretched out his arms and got into position.

Siamese boxing is known for its ruthlessness and for its formidable destructive power; both fists, legs, elbows, and knees are weapons.

He gazed at his masked opponent, who was feigning mystery, took a deep breath, and slowly approached.

"Make your move!" His eyes gleamed, as if he had found the perfect opportunity to strike.

The moment he made his move, he seemed to vaguely see his opponent move.

The next second, an unimaginable force slammed into him, and then, the world spun around him as he was sent flying backward, crashing heavily onto the arena.

"Hmm, I've tried to control my strength as much as possible," Zhang Yang muttered to himself as he pulled his foot back.

His kick just now used the Tan Leg style of traditional martial arts, and only a small portion of its power. After all, if he had used his full strength, his opponent's internal organs would have been turned to mush.

Bite!

Siamese boxing has been successfully replicated.

Congratulations, host, you have mastered Siamese boxing.

The system notification tone sounded at the appropriate time.

Zhang Yang smiled slightly, very satisfied.

He is now like someone who collects fragments of martial arts from around the world into his own body, embracing all things and encompassing everything.

The fact that Siamese boxing has been passed down in Siam for so many years must mean it has its merits. At this moment, having mastered this style of boxing, Zhang Yang immediately felt that his understanding of human power generation had reached a new level.

Their strength seems to have increased slightly.

Given his current level of strength, even the slightest improvement would be a terrifying leap forward.

The arena seemed a little too quiet. Zhang Yang snapped out of his reverie, held up one finger, and faced the entire audience, loudly proclaiming his current achievement.

Immediately, thunderous applause erupted in the arena.

"Another strike!"

"Mr. Long is mighty!"

"Stop questioning it. To kick such a big person flying without moving yourself, does that kind of power even need to be said?"

Countless online live streaming platforms also witnessed a series of celebrations.

Mr. Long's name resounded once again.

Inside the stadium, in the VIP room.

Chen Zhang and Director Ye glanced at each other, showing no surprise whatsoever; in fact, they were somewhat unperturbed.

"Mr. Chen, are you sure Mr. Zhang will hold back?" Director Ye was still a little uneasy.

"Don't worry, at most it'll be a minor injury, like a broken rib or something. It's a fighting match, you don't expect the other person to be completely unharmed, do you? Alright." Chen Zhang waved his hand impatiently.

That old Ye is so pedantic.

With him here to take responsibility, and considering the pre-match agreement, what's the harm in crippling someone if no one gets killed?

In another VIP room, Chen Wu's black hair cascaded down her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with a captivating light.

Just now, as her opponent was kicked away, she clenched her fists tightly in excitement.

"Go Zhang Yang!"

She murmured to herself, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

The match continued on the stage.

For others, it is a visual feast and a thrilling journey showcasing national culture.

But for Zhang Yang, it only meant gains.

Bang.

At this moment, the Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu expert from the Gracie Family was once again instantly defeated without any suspense.

The cheers in the stadium were deafening, and everyone was in high spirits.

Zhang Yang, however, simply immersed himself in the system, carefully checking his gains.

Bite!

Jiu-Jitsu has been successfully replicated.

Congratulations, host, you have mastered Jiu-Jitsu.

"Yes, we've collected a little more fragments of the map." Zhang Yang said with a smile.

At this moment, wearing a mask, no one in the arena could see his expression; all they saw was his immovable figure standing on the ring.

The feast continues, and the harvest continues.

Bite!

The Kyokushin Karate technique has been successfully replicated.

Congratulations, host, you have mastered the Kyokushin Karate.

Bite!

Jeet Kune Do has been successfully replicated.

Congratulations, host, you have mastered Jeet Kune Do.

Zhang Yang felt a surge of joy, his veins throbbing with boundless passion. To exaggerate or describe it in a fantastical way, it was as if his blood and qi were surging like lead and mercury, his bones and veins were bluish-green, and his marrow was as red as frost. Of course, Zhang Yang knew that these were just illusions.

The real reason is that his control and perception of himself have reached an unbelievable level.

It has reached a point where not even a feather can be added, and not even a fly can land.

"Huh? Why is everyone so excited?" Zhang Yang snapped out of his daze and suddenly noticed that the audience around him seemed unusually excited.

He took a liking to the big screen.

It turns out the next match is against Kim Woong-ho.

"No wonder," Zhang Yang suddenly realized.

Kim Woong-ho's drunken brawl in Korea previously sparked outrage, with many hoping he would avenge them.

Since that's the case...

Zhang Yang glanced at the man in martial arts uniform who walked up from below the stage, but whose face was a little pale.

"Please... please have mercy," he stammered in broken Chinese, clearly terrified.

They had witnessed Zhang Yang's abilities.

That is absolutely invincible.

The fates of the opponents who went up first serve as a precedent.

"Don't worry," Zhang Yang smiled.

A short while later...

A crisp click.

Zhang Yang calmly withdrew his fist.

"I said three, so it's three. I won't cut off a single one more," Zhang Yang thought to himself.

A simple punch broke three of his ribs; that's definitely considered showing mercy, right?

Bite!

Taekwondo has been replicated.

Congratulations, host! You have successfully mastered Taekwondo.

A pleasant system notification sound rang out.

Zhang Yang watched with great interest as the medical staff came up from below the stage and carried the immobile Kim Woong-ho off the stage, while also receiving a wave of applause and praise from the surrounding crowd.