A Small Test of Great Skill

In the jungle.

Several colorful poisonous frogs, their bodies shriveled and lying on the fallen leaves.

At 45, Zheng Jing already had wrinkles around his eyes, and the forehead wrinkles were even deeper, but his eyes remained sharp.

Dressed in a black casual outfit, under the moonlight in the jungle, he drained all the toxins and essence from those poisonous frogs, condensing them on his right palm to form a paste-like colored mud.

In his left hand, he held thirty thin, black-shafted arrows with sharp, elongated rhomboid arrowheads.

"The sixteen shamans were the ancestors of the Ba People. Wu Xian moved the ancient mountains to become the ruler. Poisonous snakes and giant pythons returned, and Tuomu and Piaoci fought for the land..."

Zheng Jing chanted a lengthy incantation, his voice muffled and unclear, transforming it from ordinary language into the witchcraft incantations recorded in his Lineage.

The clay was evenly applied to the arrow, and quickly seeped into it under the influence of the incantation.

The moonlight shone on the painted arrow, leaving it completely devoid of any reflection.

Even if he were dressed in modern clothes, anyone who saw his current demeanor would only think he was a wizard.

In reality, he is a photographer who is somewhat well-known in Kingdom of Siam.

He used to be a journalist and was known for his ability to capture the beauty of images.

His friends always admired his talent, believing that he could capture the essence of any event with just a single photograph.

Those that are noble, those that are innocent, those that are compassionate, and those that are sinful.

He was a born journalist, able to use photographs as the sharpest sword to pierce the truth.

However, he later became the photographer for royalty and celebrities.

News has always been a toy for celebrities. Since the early days of print media in the last century, it has been easily manipulated by countless unseen hands, becoming a weapon in the struggle between them.

Zheng Jing had no interest in this industry and had stayed in it for a long time, but he still kept some old friends.

Some friends are humorous and wise, while others are optimistic and persistent.

He came to the Golden Triangle this time with no other intention than to bring a reckless friend back to Bangkok.

However, during their last meeting, he saw bounty hunters raiding the sorcerer's market, and captured slaves fleeing, yet still affected by the evil curse.

He saw his friend's skull fly into the sky.

That scene shattered his original intention of negotiating and leaving as soon as possible, awakening the rage lurking in his blood.

He is now Siam, but his Lineage has passed down the deeds of their ancestors for generations; they are Ba People from Huaxia.

The Ba People lived deep in the Great Marsh, often encountering poisonous insects, tigers, leopards, and monstrous pythons. Their arrows had to be able to hit the fish in the river, as well as any poisonous snakes or monstrous insects they encountered unexpectedly.

From a young age, Zheng Jing was trained by his elders in ancient cultivation rituals.

The so-called exceptional talent displayed in photography.

It's simply because a Ba People archer who survives is best at seeing through the dangers hidden in every beautiful scene.

However, Zheng Jing at the time did not have enough bows and arrows prepared, and in the dangerous chaos of battle, he was unable to defeat the sorcerer who had cast the curse.

Afterwards, he secretly followed the wizard and located his hiding place.

Zheng Jing walked out of the jungle, parted the branches in front of him, stood halfway up the mountain, and looked down at the small town below.

The town has a small population, and most of the houses are still bamboo or wooden houses, with only a small portion being concrete buildings.

Zheng Jing had already surveyed the area and found that there was only one small shop in the entire town that sourced its goods from outside; the other vegetable markets, meat shops, and so on were almost all self-producing and self-selling.

At night, very few places in the entire town are lit up.

But in a corner of this small town, there stands a mansion built by Fusang merchant in the last century.

That mansion was originally a trading point for opium, and it changed hands several times over the years.

The current master is that wizard.

Zheng Jing put the poisoned arrow back into his quiver, stretched his wrists and ankles, and began to run down the mountain.

His sneakers had been worn for many days, but the wear and tear wasn't severe. He still felt light and swift as a bird on the leaf-strewn mountain ground.

His speed, which was originally that of a normal human run, became even faster than that of a cheetah sprint.

We rushed down the mountain, into the town, and sped across the gravel road like a gust of wind.

The occasional barking of dogs could be heard in the distance.

The dogs belonging to the nearby residents remained silent, as they did not hear the footsteps of the runner.

He leaped between the old telephone poles, far above the walls and the height of the telephone wires, and landed suddenly inside the mansion.

The black figure rolled forward and landed silently; only the few blades of grass that had been trampled knew that someone had rolled over.

In the courtyard of the mansion, there are pink flowering trees, which are in full bloom.

The wooden walkway was half a foot above the ground.

The corridor is lined with sliding doors in a Fusang style, with lights on inside.

The wizard's shoes were placed outside the door, and he sat cross-legged inside. His shadow was cast on the doors and windows, and the sound of a television could be heard.

Zheng Jing rolled to his feet, still half-squatting, his right hand already unfurling the folding bow, the bowstring taut, his left hand drawing an arrow, which he shot out instantly.

A small hole appeared in the door, and the figure inside suddenly collapsed.

But at that very moment, several figures suddenly emerged from behind those pink flowering trees.

The speed of these figures during their explosive bursts was so great that it almost made the air whistle.

They were silent, dressed in tight-fitting black leather jackets, with only their heads exposed; their faces were bluish-black, and their limbs were long and slender.

The skull was replaced with an inverted black iron bowl.

These figures were well-hidden beforehand, and their timing was impeccable.

They seized the moment Zheng Jing's arrow left the bowstring in just half a second.

Bite!!!

In a split second, Zheng Jing plucked the bowstring twice, each time releasing two arrows simultaneously, first to the left and then to the right.

The four puppets with iron bowls on their heads were hit almost simultaneously.

The arrow struck the iron bowl, sparks flew, and it pierced half an inch deep.

The force of the four puppets' attack could not be stopped by the power of the arrow.

But the moment the four arrows pierced their heads, the puppet figures all veered off course.

The four shadows that should have pounced on Zheng Jing instead bumped into each other in pairs.

Boom!!!

The damage from their collision was far greater than the force of the arrows.

All four puppets fell backward, crashing heavily to the ground.

Zheng Jing's pupils contracted, and his ears twitched.

Suddenly, an arrow shot towards the source of the television sound.

The television stopped abruptly, followed by a blast of air that burst outwards, shattering the doors and windows.

The scene inside the house was revealed: the one who had fallen after being shot by an arrow was indeed not a wizard, but a puppet.

Instead, where the television had originally been, stood an old man with a bald head and a thin face, his cheeks bluish-black, holding an iron ball, looking outwards.

The iron ball looked like two iron bowls placed together, with wisps of electricity flashing in the gap.

There was another arrow stuck in that crevice.

This wizard's magical artifact possesses electromagnetic properties. When practicing at home, he deliberately hides next to the television to make people ignore the magical aura.

He had long anticipated retaliation, and the puppets in the courtyard were specifically designed for this purpose.

The moment their eyes met, the arrow on the iron ball shattered with a bang.

Without a word, the poisoned arrow shot through the air.

But the wizard's body had already smashed through the thin wall to the side and entered another room.

Zheng Jing a deep breath, stood still, and fired arrows in quick succession.

It made a thumping sound as it passed through doors and walls.

His feet didn't follow, but the arrow did.

Just as he was twisting his waist, changing direction, and firing in pursuit, the canopy of the flowering tree suddenly moved, and a puppet pounced down.

Zheng Jing turned around abruptly, his bow already fully drawn, only to see a familiar face.

The same iron bowl replaced the skull, but the face was clearly that of his deceased friend.

The arrow flashed, but missed its mark, passing only under the puppet's armpit.

The bald wizard burst through the wall and attacked Zheng Jing from behind.

Clang!!!

An arrow descended from the sky and suddenly pierced the wizard's head.

That was the arrow that passed under the puppet's armpit, its shaft curving upwards in a full arc before turning back and striking the wizard on the head.

The puppet, now out of control, suddenly froze.

"I knew you took his body a long time ago, how could I not have taken precautions?"

Zheng Jing turned his cold gaze back to his enemy.

Before he could even see his enemy's dying expression, a frantic warning signal made his eyes change drastically. He dodged to the side, but it was too late.

Several bullets pierced the wizard's body and struck him.

Da da da da da!!

Gunshots followed shortly afterward.

Zheng Jing dodged a fatal blow, but he had already been shot several times and was rolling on the ground.

Blood flowed onto the ground. The rapid blood loss caused his blood pressure to drop sharply, his vision to go black, and he struggled to look up.

Another bald wizard emerged from the house, carrying an iron ball in one hand and a submachine gun in the other.

"Hehehe, in that chaotic battle that day, with heavy machine guns firing and rockets flying everywhere, nothing could hurt you, the archer."

"I knew it. People like you are far more perceptive than those of us who cultivate Mind Power, but your fatal weakness will inevitably lie in your mind."

"I'll transform a puppet into my likeness, making you believe that the moment you've successfully avenged yourself is the moment you truly fail."

The bald old man, dressed in a red silk nightgown, smiled so much that the wrinkles on his face smoothed out a bit.

"You're a good candidate too. If I can't take you down even with all this, I'll just have to waste more ammunition."

Emerging from around the house were leather-clad puppets with iron bowls on their heads, each carrying a machine gun, and several others with rocket launchers on their shoulders.

The puppets possess extraordinary physical strength, capable of wielding these weapons single-handedly, and are fearless in the face of death; even injuries resulting in the loss of limbs do not prevent them from continuing to fire.

The electromagnetic induction between the iron ball and the iron bowl allowed them to coordinate perfectly when firing, creating a barrage of fire that could detect highly skilled individuals that would be difficult for ordinary armies to detect.

Zheng Jing sensed this unseen lock-on and felt despair.

The "Ancient Rain Corpse Secret Art" practiced by this wizard, according to information from the dark web, is characterized by simply activating puppets during thunderstorms. Therefore, unlike ordinary Yin Corpses, it does not fear Yang energy or thunder and fire.

But now it seems that the resurgence of the Spirit Realm over the past few years, coupled with the chaos in the Golden Triangle over the past six months, has led to this situation.

This wizard had long ago developed entirely new uses for his secret arts.

In contrast, Zheng Jing, having worked as a reporter and photographer for so many years, could not possibly compare to these ruthless sorcerers who had long occupied the Golden Triangle, relying solely on his childhood training and talent.

He didn't bring enough arrows to the trading market that day.

But for the bald wizard, there were clearly many more things he hadn't brought.

"How come the Ba People Archery are so inexperienced, yet they dare to be sent out to roam?"

A middle-aged man's voice, speaking in Mandarin, entered the mansion.

The wizard raised his gun, startled, and exclaimed, "Who?"

He raised his gun, but it was one of the puppets standing on the outermost edge who actually fired.

Moreover, the moment it fired, it was a shoulder-fired rocket launcher.

This isn't your average anti-tank rocket launcher; it's a weapon designed to destroy bunkers, something the bald wizard only acquired in the last six months.

After the rocket is launched, its maximum speed can reach 500 meters per second, and it will lock onto the strongest heat source within its range.

Even if you have a premonition of danger and try to dodge in advance, you will still be tracked and bombed as long as your speed cannot exceed the turning point of the rocket.

However, the man standing on the wall simply reached out and grabbed the rocket, then tossed it away in an instant.

The rocket, despite having a detonation device, went out of control and into the sky before it could explode in his hands.

It exploded into a fireball four or five meters in size high in the sky.

Neither the wizard nor Zheng Jing could see the process of Yungu's attack.

All I saw was the rocket launcher firing, followed by an explosion high in the sky.

All the puppets opened fire simultaneously.

The machine gun firepower created an almost overwhelming torrential downpour of fire.

The wizard panicked and completely lost all interest in keeping any good materials.

When some machine guns swept through the area, Zheng Jing was clearly included among them.

However, Zheng Jing was completely unharmed.

He saw a figure standing in front of him, and countless reddish spots, like molten iron, bounced off the person in front of him.

Zheng Jing could only guess what this person looked like.

The bald wizard was practically going mad; his pupils and lips were trembling.

What did he see?!

The man on the wall was one thing.

There was even a young monster standing directly in front of the machine gun fire.

The bullets, when they hit the monster, didn't even tear its shirt before bouncing off in all directions.

The bullets were fast, but the sheer mass of these bullets meant that the impact they created was no match for Chu Tianshu's constantly circulating protective Gang Qi.

"Snort!"

Chu Tianshu turned his body slightly, raised his left foot, and stomped forward.

The ground in front of him suddenly surged up a foot high like a wave and pushed forward.

A deafening roar followed.

All the puppets, including the wizard, were knocked to their feet by this solid wave, separating from their weapons and flying backward in all directions.

The main building of the mansion was swept over by the waves and then struck by these puppet guns.

Instantly, it was riddled with holes, with walls and tiles collapsing in large sections.

More than a dozen rooms, beams and pillars collapsed, dust filled the air.

Yungu clicked his tongue and said, "You didn't use all your strength in that kick, did you?"

"It's about 60%."

Chu Tianshu hadn't expected such a commotion and couldn't help but shake his head.

It's all because this Fusang- style mansion is so flimsy.

If it were a reinforced concrete apartment building, he couldn't possibly use 60% of his strength to stomp it down.

It would take at least two or three impacts to destroy the load-bearing structure and cause it to collapse into a pile.

Zheng Jing was dumbfounded, not even noticing that at the same time Chu Tianshu stomped his foot, the acupoints on his body had been sealed to stop the bleeding.

Cars kept driving up to the mansion, their black paint and gleaming headlights.

People started opening their car doors and striding in.

Zheng Jing sat up halfway and looked back, lost in thought for a long time, feeling that each of these people seemed to be stronger than him.

Has this wizard been punished by heaven?

What makes him so powerful that he could be besieged by so many experts?!

"That solves it."

Chen Taozhi muttered, "I thought I'd find a black market where a bunch of evil sorcerers gathered..."

(End of this chapter)