Innate Talent and Bone Structure

Chen Zhuo's voice was not loud, yet it struck heavily against everyone's heart.

The faint hum that rang out as his blade tip sliced through the air was his response to these "trumped-up charges."

Once he admitted guilt and was thrown into prison, he could not imagine what would be waiting for him.

Especially after seeing the hideous face of Wang Mingyuan, his resolve only hardened.

Better to be a shattered jade than an intact tile.

"I have no choice but to gamble."

Chen Zhuo raised the long blade in his hand, his gaze sweeping across the crowd; it lingered on Yan Ming for a fleeting second before shifting to Huang Yuan'er.

Everyone present was momentarily stunned.

Had the world truly changed?

Since when did a mere White-Uniform Runner dare to draw his blade against the powerful?

The smile on Huang Yuan'er's face seemed to hit a pause button, freezing in that very instant.

"You're courting death!"

The next moment, Huang Yuan'er snapped back to reality, his face turning livid as he drew his own saber. Ignoring the opinions of the three bigwigs beside him, he gave the order directly.

"Kill him right here."

Seven or eight runners had already drawn their blades, waiting; upon receiving the order, they did not hesitate, all rushing forward to bring their steel down upon Chen Zhuo.

Chen Zhuo's veins bulged, powerful strength surging into every corner of his body.

Facing the encirclement, he gripped his long blade and charged fiercely in one direction.

The blade tore through the air, striking one of the runners with lightning speed.

The man tried to dodge, only to realize in terror that the speed of the descending blade far exceeded his expectations.

In a mere heartbeat, a gaping wound was carved into the runner's chest.

Blood sprayed out, staining his clothes as the runner collapsed to the ground, wailing.

Chen Zhuo had taken one out with incredible speed.

But at that moment, behind him, several other blades were about to land on his body.

The blades were chilling, and his skin could faintly feel a stinging sensation.

At the critical moment, Chen Zhuo twisted his body into a knot.

He swept his blade horizontally, barely managing to block the incoming steel.

Then, his entire body suddenly contracted; before the others could react, he had already slipped behind one of them and brought his blade down in a vicious strike.

"Ah..."

Another runner fell to the ground.

The others were shocked, but they did not show fear, continuing to execute their blade techniques in an orderly fashion.

Moreover, with two men down, the others were now on high alert, not letting their guard down in the slightest.

Chen Zhuo had managed to strike down two men because he had caught them off guard when they underestimated him.

But that wouldn't work now.

After all, they were all body-tempering martial artists. His greatest advantage currently was that his blade technique was exquisite enough; although it only consisted of three moves, it was nearing perfection.

That was the only reason he could barely fight them to a standstill.

[Zhengyang Blade Technique (Incomplete +1)]

[Zhengyang Blade Technique (Incomplete +1)]

All of this happened in the blink of an eye. The onlookers blinked, unable to believe the scene unfolding before them.

A full eight runners had failed to take him down, and two had even fallen.

He clearly only had three moves, so how could this kid be so fierce?

Chen Zhuo finally understood the words Fatty Sun had once told him.

All those sects, gangs, and factions were nothing but paper tigers.

There were over thirty official runners, every one of them a body-tempering martial artist.

With such force, it was no wonder they didn't take those gangs seriously.

Not to mention the three thousand city garrison troops stationed outside the walls.

"That's enough."

Chen Zhuo chanted inwardly.

The panel flickered, and a line of small text appeared before his eyes.

[Zhengyang Blade Technique (Incomplete): 1/50 (Perfected)]

With the Zhengyang Blade Technique perfected, his swordsmanship underwent a visible transformation.

The Zhengyang Blade Technique was inherently fierce and unyielding; Chen Zhuo used his blade like a hammer, smashing it heavily into the yamen runner closest to him.

The runner held his blade against his chest to block, but he never expected such a massive force to strike him. His long blade was instantly knocked from his grip, and a gash was carved into his chest in the same motion.

The third runner fell.

The expressions of the others changed drastically. Unable to withstand the fierce blade any longer, they chose to retreat backward for the time being.

Chen Zhuo did not press the attack. Instead, he stood where he was, his chest heaving as he gulped down large mouthfuls of air.

Fighting eight men alone had left him physically and mentally exhausted, even if his stamina was not yet fully depleted.

The runners exchanged glances, and one of them gestured. The sound of blades being drawn rang out in succession.

In an instant, over a dozen more runners, gripping their long blades tightly, began to close in step by step.

With the big shots watching from the platform, the runners who had started the fight felt they had lost face and were determined to make up for it now.

They did not rush to strike, instead shifting their feet to shrink the encirclement bit by bit, resolved not to give Chen Zhuo any chance to act out.

The situation took a sharp turn for the worse.

Chen Zhuo quietly swallowed the last Blood Vitality Pill he had on him, already prepared for the worst.

Some in the crowd cried out in alarm, while others watched with cold eyes.

"This kid actually had a trick up his sleeve. Such exquisite blade technique—his martial arts talent is truly extraordinary."

"A pity, indeed."

"It's not worth calling a pity. To have such ability and not think of running, but instead stay here to tangle with others, is proof enough of this person's stupidity."

Huang Yuan'er's face was dark, his eyes nailed to Chen Zhuo, his expression extremely ugly.

This was no longer just a matter of losing face.

As the martial arts instructor for the White-Uniform Runners, how could he not know these men inside and out when it came to martial arts?

He never imagined that this handsome, otherwise useless little runner could possess such high martial arts talent.

Those few strikes just now were fierce and methodical; clearly, the Zhengyang Blade had reached perfection.

Even with only three incomplete moves, it was enough to highlight his talent.

The fighting style was only one aspect; what secretly shocked him even more was the Iron Cloth Shirt.

Training methods relied on talent, but they relied even more on one's natural constitution.

The way the veins had bulged all over Chen Zhuo's body earlier was exactly the "Black Dragon Coiling Around the Body" of the Iron Cloth Shirt.

In such a short time, he has perfected the fighting style and reached the stage of tempering tendons in body refinement. Both his talent and constitution are top-tier.

Huang Yuan'er reached a definitive judgment about Chen Zhuo.

Because of this, the killing intent in his heart boiled far more fiercely than before.

Yet, he hesitated for a moment, ultimately choosing not to order Chen Zhuo's immediate execution.

In any case, this kid was a dead man sooner or later; he couldn't be impatient, or he would lose even more face.

Why isn't this kid running?

A thought stirred in Huang Yuan'er's heart, a question shared by many others present.

Many thought him hopelessly stupid, but he did not think so.

How could someone with top-tier martial arts talent and constitution be a fool?

But to know he was outmatched and still fight with all his might—could it be that he was doing this just to display his talent and constitution without reservation?

Displaying his talent and constitution?

Hmm?!

"No, this kid is acting!"

Regardless of who he was performing for, it was enough to show that Chen Zhuo still had a backup plan.

He absolutely could not allow Chen Zhuo to live.

Huang Yuan'er suddenly realized this, his round face instantly wrinkling, and he let out a loud shout: "What are you standing there for? Why don't you strike at once?"

His voice betrayed urgency, and even a hint of trembling.

The runners jolted, raising their long blades to charge at Chen Zhuo.

Just then, a calm voice suddenly rang out across the entire Drill Ground.

"Enough."

The voice was not loud, yet it boomed like thunder.

The runners' movements stalled instantly, and they turned to find the source of the sound.

They saw the Dianshi, who had been sitting steadily on the platform, slowly stand up, his tiger-like eyes fixed on the ground below.