In the open space before the dormitory, Huo Yuhao and the boy stood facing each other.
Watching their stances, the old man reclining by the entrance opened his eyes slightly.
He watched their movements with interest.
"The name's Wang Dong. What's yours?"
"Huo Yuhao."
"Huo Yuhao, huh? I'll remember the name of the man I'm about to beat. Release your Martial Soul!"
A pair of wings the same color as Wang Dong's hair rose from his back.
Two Spirit Rings, one yellow and one purple, rose beneath his feet.
But Huo Yuhao still made no move. Wang Dong grew impatient.
"Aren't you going to release your Martial Soul?"
To his surprise, Huo Yuhao shook his head.
"Go ahead and attack."
A flicker of irritation crossed Wang Dong's eyes at Huo Yuhao's unconcerned expression.
"You dare hold back against me? You've got some nerve."
Wang Dong gathered Soul Power into his fist, and the butterfly wings behind him gave a sudden flap.
He shot toward Huo Yuhao like an arrow loosed from its bow.
Wang Dong was fast. His fist was less than two meters from Huo Yuhao, yet Huo Yuhao still had not moved. Contempt flashed through Wang Dong's eyes.
Huo Yuhao had acted so tough in the dormitory that Wang Dong had thought he must be someone formidable. Instead, he was just a poser who knew how to make threats.
With that thought, Wang Dong redirected the punch he had aimed at Huo Yuhao's face toward his abdomen.
The fist wrapped in Soul Power slammed into Huo Yuhao's abdomen. A dull thud sounded, and the impact drove Huo Yuhao back several steps, but his expression did not change.
When his fist struck Huo Yuhao's abdomen, Wang Dong felt as though he had punched a stone—one that had been frozen for thousands upon thousands of years. It was hard and cold.
"A defensive Martial Soul?"
Wang Dong drew back his slightly numb fist and considered it.
"Good! So you're hiding in a defensive tortoise shell. Take this slash!"
Wang Dong's Yellow Soul Ring flashed, and golden light gleamed along the edges of the wings on his back.
A streak of gold swept past, shredding Huo Yuhao's fitted clothes.
Yet Wang Dong's attack had only torn open Huo Yuhao's clothes, exposing the eight muscles of his abdomen.
Wang Dong blushed at the sight, but forced himself to speak despite his embarrassment.
"Not bad. A defensive Soul Master who can take one of my attacks without getting hurt. You're a real man!"
At Wang Dong's praise, Huo Yuhao, who had shown no reaction since the spar began, finally moved. He raised his fist and drove it into Wang Dong's abdomen with lightning speed.
At the same time, he repeated Wang Dong's words.
"I'm a real man!"
Caught off guard, Wang Dong was knocked flat by the blow.
He stared in shock. Huo Yuhao had gone right back to standing there and taking hits, still repeating, "I'm a real man!"
Wang Dong seemed determined not to lose to Huo Yuhao. He scrambled up and punched Huo Yuhao in the abdomen again.
"Real man!"
And so, in front of the Shrek dormitory, the two traded punches like lunatics, each shouting, "Real man!"
"Don't you feel the least bit guilty, teasing a fool like that?"
Mu En had watched the whole thing from the dormitory entrance. With a hint of amusement in his eyes, he turned toward Huo Yuhao beside him.
With his strength, he could naturally tell that the Huo Yuhao trading blows with Wang Dong was actually an ice figure. The boy had been affected by Huo Yuhao's Soul Skill and mistaken the ice figure for Huo Yuhao.
"I'm only teasing him a little!"
Standing beside Mu En, Huo Yuhao held a level-four Recording Soul Tool. As he recorded Wang Dong making a fool of himself, mischief flashed in his eyes.
This combination of Soul Skills was something he had developed over the past three years.
His Spirit Eyes' third Spirit Ring had come from a seven-thousand-year-old Spirit-Eyed Butterfly he had found in the Extreme North.
The Soul Skill the Spirit-Eyed Butterfly granted him was called Spirit Butterfly Illusion Realm.
It let Huo Yuhao use spiritual power to draw an opponent into an illusion. Within it, he could simulate anything, including its aura.
Combined with his second Soul Skill, Spiritual Clone, and a puppet shaped from Ultimate Ice, the result was convincing enough to pass for the real thing.
After recording Wang Dong for a while, Huo Yuhao asked with a trace of puzzlement:
"Senior, if I'm not mistaken, Wang Dong's Martial Soul is the Light Goddess Butterfly, isn't it?"
Mu En merely nodded from his reclining chair.
"Then shouldn't he be in the girls' dormitory?"
The Light Goddess Butterfly was known as the most beautiful Soul Beast on the continent. This Martial Soul appeared almost exclusively in women.
"If he wants to live there, let him. You're the one who benefits, boy. Besides, even I can't control him. If he wants to enroll as a boy, let him."
Mu En's words startled Huo Yuhao. The old man looked so venerable, yet he spoke with the air of someone who ought to know better at his age.
Mu En's last remark puzzled him even more. According to Elder Yi, the old man before him was a level ninety-nine Limit Douluo. If even he could not control Wang Dong, could there be some immense power behind him?
Not far away, Wang Dong's contest with the ice figure was nearing its end.
With all his strength, Wang Dong punched the Huo Yuhao before him to the ground, leaving him unable to get up.
Suppressing the discomfort in his abdomen, he shouted at Huo Yuhao beneath his feet:
"I won! I'm the real man!"
"But you're not bad yourself. From now on, though, you'll have to follow my rules in the dormitory."
Clap, clap, clap!
Applause came from behind Wang Dong. He turned and saw something he had never expected.
Huo Yuhao, who should have been pinned beneath his foot, was standing behind him, completely unharmed.
Wang Dong spun back around. The Huo Yuhao he had beaten had turned into a lifelike ice doll.
At that sight, he knew Huo Yuhao had tricked him.
Only then did he notice that several people had gathered around them.
They stood in little groups outside the dormitory, glancing at Wang Dong and whispering among themselves.
Whether they spoke too loudly or his hearing was too sharp, Wang Dong caught every word.
"Why's that handsome kid beating up an ice doll first thing in the morning?"
"Poor guy. Where can I donate?"
"I don't understand it, but I respect it."
"How many times do I have to say it? Go to a proper clinic for an abortion."
As he listened, Wang Dong's face went from pale to livid, then from livid to scarlet.
The boy's blush said more than any words could.
Just then, Huo Yuhao walked up to Wang Dong with the Recording Soul Tool in hand.
It was playing back the footage.
Suddenly, a voice rang out from the Recording Soul Tool: "I'm a real man!"
Wang Dong recognized it. That was unmistakably his own voice.
Another cry of "Real man!" followed, and Wang Dong could no longer hold back.
"Huo Yuhao!"
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