First Battle! Cultivator VS Hypnotist

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for waiting! The quarter-finals of the World Martial Arts Tournament begin now!"

The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers across the arena, igniting a wave of enthusiastic cheers.

"The first match—Contestant 98, Lin Fan, versus Contestant 157, Giran! Will both fighters please take the stage!"

Lin Fan walked slowly onto the ring amidst applause that could hardly be called enthusiastic.

He was still wearing his gray cloth tunic, looking remarkably unremarkable among the crowd of bulging muscles and bizarre costumes.

Opposite him, Giran grinned widely, showing off his exaggerated muscles and mohawk as if to show them off, blowing kisses to the audience and drawing screams from his entourage.

"Kid!"

Giran twisted his neck, making a cracking sound, and glared down at Lin Fan. "It's not too late to kneel and beg for mercy! Otherwise, once I start, I won't be holding back!"

Lin Fan just looked at him calmly, not even bothering to take a fighting stance.

The referee recited the rules as a matter of routine: "No attacking vital points, no weapons, and you lose if you fall out of the ring or stay down for a ten-count. Do you both understand?"

"Just start the match already, ref!"

Giran roared impatiently; he couldn't wait to teach this fragile-looking kid a lesson.

Lin Fan nodded slightly.

"Alright! The match—begins!"

The referee waved his hand and quickly stepped back.

"Take this!"

Giran let out a loud shout, but instead of rushing forward, he suddenly began to move his hands in a strange rhythm before his eyes. Staring fixedly at Lin Fan, his voice turned low and hypnotic. "Look into my eyes... watch my movements... don't you feel dizzy... sleepy... don't you want to go to sleep..."

A ripple of whispers broke out in the stands.

"It's Giran's hypnosis!"

"How despicable!"

Bulma jumped up and down in the stands, anxious. "That's so cheap! How can he use a move like that!"

Son Goku and Krillin also gripped the railings nervously.

However, Lin Fan's eyes remained clear, perhaps even carrying a hint of... boredom?

The Great Dao Source Scripture circulated slightly within him, the Heart-Calming Mantra flowing naturally, leaving his mind clear and serene.

This level of hypnotic suggestion was like child's play compared to the myriad illusions of the Heart Demon Tribulation.

After dancing for a long time, Giran saw Lin Fan was completely unaffected and was instead looking at him like he was an idiot. He flew into a rage. "How is this possible?! Why aren't you asleep?!"

"Your dance," Lin Fan finally spoke, his tone flat, "lacks rhythm."

"You bastard!"

Giran was completely provoked. Since the hypnosis failed, he decided to crush his opponent with sheer power!

"Then taste my true strength!"

He roared, his muscles swelling across his entire body. With a sudden stomp, his pot-sized fist whistled through the air, smashing toward Lin Fan's face!

The punch was heavy and powerful, looking strong enough to shatter stone!

Some in the audience even gasped.

However, Lin Fan simply took a small step to the left. The movement looked slow, yet it was perfectly timed to let the fierce fist graze past the tip of his nose.

The wind from the punch ruffled the hair on his forehead.

Giran was stunned that his opponent had dodged, and he immediately followed up with a heavy side kick aimed at Lin Fan's waist.

Lin Fan shifted his body slightly, again evading with ease by a hair's breadth; not even the hem of his clothes was touched.

"Damn it! What kind of skill is just dodging around!"

Giran was furious, throwing his fists out like a torrential storm while cursing, "Stand still, you coward! Take the hit head-on!"

A comical scene unfolded on the ring: the hulking Giran attacked wildly, his punches and kicks whistling through the air, yet he couldn't even touch the hem of Lin Fan's clothes.

Lin Fan's figure moved like a ghost amidst the dense barrage of attacks, always evading each strike with the smallest possible movement.

His footwork looked simple, yet it contained a mysterious rhythm, as if he were predicting all of Giran's moves in advance.

"What's going on? He can't hit him at all?"

"That Lin Fan's movements are so strange. He doesn't look fast, but he just can't be hit!"

"Giran looks like a big idiot fighting the air..."

The audience went from watching for fun to being genuinely astonished.

In the VIP box, Tien Shinhan's brow furrowed deeper. "It's not speed... it's prediction and footwork... extremely refined..."

Chiaotzu whispered, "His movements... it's like he knows exactly where Giran is going to strike."

Master Shen's expression darkened as he let out a scoff, "Cheap tricks!"

Giran was already panting on the ring, sweat beading on his forehead.

His continuous, fierce onslaughts had all missed their mark, draining his stamina and leaving him feeling frustrated enough to explode.

"Bastard! Are you going to fight or not!"

He stopped his assault, bracing his hands on his knees as he roared.

Lin Fan finally stopped moving. Standing a short distance away, he nodded, "Alright."

Giran was stunned. Before he could even react, he saw Lin Fan suddenly move!

This time, it wasn't evasion—it was an attack!

Lin Fan's figure blurred for an instant. It was as if he had taken only a single step to effortlessly cross the several meters between them, appearing directly in front of Giran.

His right palm pressed against Giran's muscular chest, appearing light and effortless.

Giran didn't even have time to raise a defense before he felt a strange, concentrated force penetrate his body!

It wasn't brute strength; it felt more like a precise "push" and "vibration"!

"Urgh!"

He let out a muffled groan as his entire body lost control, his feet leaving the ground as he was sent flying backward like a sandbag launched from a catapult!

Tracing a clumsy arc through the air, Giran flailed his limbs and screamed until he landed with a heavy thud outside the ring, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The entire arena fell silent.

The referee's mouth hung open, and it took him several seconds to snap out of his daze. He ran over to check on the dazed Giran before raising his hand to announce loudly, "Gi-Giran has fallen out of the ring! The winner is—Number 98, Lin Fan!"

Silence.

After a brief moment of stillness, the audience erupted into a buzz of surprise and confusion.

"W-what just happened?"

"He just gave him a light push..."

"How did Giran fly that far?"

"That's it? He won?"

Bulma jumped and cheered excitedly in the stands, "He won! Did you see that! So easy!"

Son Goku blinked, his face full of confusion, "That's so strange... I didn't feel any strong ki... How did he fly so far from just a push?"

Krillin was equally baffled, "Yeah... it felt like he didn't even use much strength..."

In the VIP box, Tien Shinhan's third eye suddenly cracked open, a flash of brilliance vanishing in an instant, "It wasn't strength... it was technique... He channeled all his power into the moment of contact... and utilized Giran's own forward momentum..."

Master Shen's face was grim, his cane creaking under his tight grip, "There is definitely something strange about him!"

On the ring, Lin Fan withdrew his palm, the slightly turbulent qi within him quickly calming down.

He didn't even glance at the groggy Giran below, instead giving the referee a slight nod before turning and walking slowly off the stage.

The audience's gazes followed him, filled with bewilderment and curiosity.

This victory had come too quickly, and was far too... inexplicable.

This contestant named Lin Fan seemed much stranger than they had ever imagined.