Don't Think You Can Beat Me While I'm Singing! The Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms!

"Come on! Beat me to death!"

The androgynous fighter's eager cry had barely faded when Duan Yun struck.

He used a finger technique, his index and middle fingers darting out like twin dragons from a cave, straight for the fighter's eyes.

With a smack, Duan Yun's twin dragons stopped in midair. A middle finger had suddenly appeared between them, blocking them cold.

Duan Yun flicked his fingers, turning the thrust into a peck aimed at the fighter's right temple.

There was a thud, and fine dust swirled.

The peck halted an inch from the temple. That same middle finger stood in its path again, an impregnable wall he could not break through.

"Slow. Too slow!"

With a swish, the androgynous fighter struck, driving that same middle finger toward Duan Yun's eyes. Duan Yun whipped up an elbow and barely blocked it.

"Slow."

"Too slow."

"Of all martial arts under heaven, only speed cannot be broken."

In the blink of an eye, they were locked in combat. They had only four arms between them, yet the air was full of their afterimages, as though each were a thousand-armed Guanyin.

To the naked eye, Duan Yun was defending more than he attacked. He had actually fallen behind.

"I heard you had a bit of a reputation. How can you be this slow?"

"Didn't you eat?"

"Ah!"

Before the fighter could finish speaking, a piercing scream burst out.

That middle finger had nimbly intercepted an incoming hand, but it was not Duan Yun's hand. It was a pig trotter that had slipped from his sleeve.

The fighter reacted quickly, shifting the middle finger to intercept Duan Yun's hand again.

But Duan Yun's next move defied every calculation. He did not attack with a hand, but with his feet.

Both feet!

At some point,