MTS: Marvel and Beyond

Chapter 190: Chapter 190: Pop

This match confirmed the truth of Feng Baobao's earlier statement: her sole purpose in participating was to assist Zhang Chulan, clearing the path of all obstacles for him.

Unsurprisingly, Feng Baobao lost to Zhang Chulan in this match.

Moreover, the way she lost was so obviously staged that it couldn't have been more fake. From this moment on, Zhang Chulan earned the infamous title of "Shameless Zhang." He became widely recognized as the weakest, luckiest, and most shameless participant among all the contestants.

Next came the battle between Zhang Lingyu and Feng Xingtong. Without Alex's interference or that trump card spirit of his, Feng Xingtong predictably lost to Zhang Lingyu.

The day passed quickly, and the finals began the next day. This match was the most anticipated of the tournament, drawing even those who had not attended previous rounds to witness the final showdown.

No one believed Zhang Chulan could win.

In the eyes of the audience, "Shameless Zhang" had relied solely on luck to make it this far, with his actual strength being pitifully weak.

On the other hand, Zhang Lingyu, as the personal disciple of the Taoist Master, possessed immense power and skill.

For the spectators, this was a match without suspense. They were certain Zhang Chulan's luck had finally run out, and he would be thoroughly exposed when faced with Zhang Lingyu.

However, unlike the original story, Zhang Lingyu's strength had significantly increased after overcoming Alex's trial. Even though Zhang Chulan displayed shocking abilities, he was still no match for Zhang Lingyu.

Yet, despite Zhang Lingyu's superior strength, he couldn't escape the schemes of his master.

Before the match, the Grandmaster had Zhang Lingyu join him for a meal, during which he secretly added "Immortal Pills" to the food—special pills that, while non-toxic, would cause full-body paralysis and immobility if the consumer activated their energy at full power.

In a competition, such a condition was enough to determine the outcome.

Thus, Zhang Lingyu, unknowingly betrayed by his master, found himself collapsing mid-match, inexplicably losing the fight.

This result enraged the audience, who cried foul and accused the organizers of rigging the event. However, once the Grandmaster personally intervened, all voices of dissent were silenced, and the result was finalized: Zhang Chulan was declared the winner.

With the conclusion of the tournament, participants began dispersing, each returning to their respective homes.

The next day, at the competition grounds, Lu Jin attempted to present the Tongtian Record—the championship prize—to Zhang Chulan. However, Zhang Chulan refused to accept it. At the Grandmaster's suggestion, the Tongtian Record was instead handed to the runner-up, Zhang Lingyu.

Time passed, and night fell once again. Zhang Chulan rejected the idea of undertaking the Taoist Master's path, forfeiting the chance to uncover the truth behind the Koshin War.

Meanwhile, at the base of the mountain, Quanxing members arrived to attack the Taoist Master's Mansion.

The Grandmaster, noticing the commotion in the distance, frowned slightly before rising. He decided it was time to stretch his muscles after decades of inactivity.

However, just as he stepped out the door, he saw Alex appear before him, smiling faintly.

"Zhiwei," Alex said, "go find Tian Jinzong. Quanxing's target is him.

"As for the rest of these Quanxing members, leave them to me. This is too much fun for me to let anyone else have a piece of it."

The Grandmaster was momentarily stunned but quickly nodded, heading in the direction of Tian Jinzong.

"Since the ancestor wishes to stretch his muscles," the Grandmaster said, "then Zhiwei will stay out of it..."

Alex slowly descended the mountain and was quickly confronted by a group of Quanxing followers.

These were low-ranking Quanxing members, most of whom were weak in power. Ironically, it was their weakness that made them fearless. Lacking awareness of the danger, they charged at Alex without hesitation.

One Quanxing member, wielding a sharp blade, transformed into a streak of light and rushed toward Alex, leaving afterimages in his wake.

Alex recognized him as the same man who had once attempted to use his speed to defeat the Grandmaster. Now, he was trying the same tactic against him.

However, unlike the Grandmaster, who subdued opponents with wisdom and restraint, Alex believed in overwhelming force.

While the Quanxing followers glowed with all kinds of radiant energy, Alex showed no extraordinary traits. Apart from his striking appearance, he seemed utterly ordinary.

The next moment, as the glowing Quanxing member collided with Alex, a sharp crack resounded. Alex's hand struck with precision, shattering the man's skull with a single slap.

The remains were stopped by an invisible barrier, ensuring not a single drop of blood touched Alex.

Seeing the grisly fate of their comrade, the other Quanxing members faltered for a moment. But they quickly regrouped, rallying for another charge.

One leader, attempting to boost morale, shouted, "Don't be afraid! What great Alex? He's just a mortal in the end! Look at him—nothing like an immortal.

"And there are so many of us, and only one of him! Even if each of us spits, we'll drown him! Attack together and take him down!"

Just as this leader was enthusiastically rallying his forces, he noticed the strange expressions on their faces. They were all staring at something behind him.

The light around him dimmed. Realizing what was happening, he stiffly turned his head.

Behind him stood a tall figure with white hair and piercing blue eyes, staring down at him.

Before he could beg for mercy, Alex's hand struck again, smashing his head like a watermelon. Blood and brain matter splattered onto the nearby Quanxing members.

Despite their leader's gruesome death, the remaining followers showed no fear.

Alex's attacks, while lethal, didn't seem overwhelmingly powerful. His movements were deliberate, precise—just enough to kill each target. To the others, it appeared slow, as if they could dodge it.

They also believed in their numbers. Even if Alex was strong, how could he possibly withstand their sheer mass of attackers?

And so, like a tidal wave, the Quanxing followers charged at Alex, attempting to overwhelm him with sheer numbers.

At first, their momentum was impressive, brimming with confidence in their superiority.

But one by one, heads exploded like watermelons. With each kill, their momentum faltered, and their bravado faded.

No matter who approached Alex—man or woman, young or old, weak or strong—they met the same fate. He raised his hand, struck, and their heads shattered.

Gradually, the followers began to realize something was wrong. What had seemed like a simple slap now appeared terrifying and unstoppable.

More heads burst, and a sense of dread began to creep into the hearts of some of the Quanxing members.

Somehow, his simple motion of raising his hand to slap now felt like the scythe of death itself to them.

No matter who stood before him, Alex used the same motion—a single slap.

Under this slap, all were equal, and all would meet death.

A portion of the smarter members of the organisation stopped advancing, hesitating instead. Some even began retreating, trying to distance themselves from Alex.

Their cautious actions caught the attention of others, triggering a chain reaction. More and more people started falling back, unwilling to confront him.

It didn't take long before Alex had wiped out everyone standing before him with shocking efficiency. The remaining members kept their distance, retreating cautiously—or outright fleeing.

One of the more cowardly member, after making eye contact with Alex, let out a broken scream:

"He's doing this on purpose! He could have wiped us all out in an instant, but he's holding back his power, pretending to be harmless, just to lure us in to die!"

These words were like a spark in dry grass, setting off panic. All the outcasts immediately turned tail and began to flee.

As they fled, one of them cursed under his breath:

"Damn it! That bastard is playing us! He knows he can't catch all of us, so he's baiting us into throwing ourselves at him.

Damn it! I swear, I'll kill him one day!"

But just as the words left his mouth, a bone-chilling sensation washed over him. Before he could react, his head exploded like the others before him, spraying a grotesque mix of red and white onto the nearest Deviants.

The others, horrified, turned to look.

There Alex stood, casually raising his hand for another slap.

But this time, no one was near him—there was nothing in his immediate surroundings.

The members' hearts sank as a terrifying realization dawned on them. They glanced back while running, and sure enough, Alex raised his hand again.

Alex struck forward with another slap, even though nothing was in front of him.

*Smack!*

The familiar sound echoed. The fleeing outcasts froze in horror as one of their comrades, running alongside them, suddenly had his head explode. His body collapsed to the ground, leaving a jagged red streak behind as it rolled forward.

Then it began—a horrifying symphony of slaps and explosions. Each slap reverberated with dreadful precision, and with every sound, another life was extinguished.

Even the disciples of the Sect watching from afar felt chills run down their spines.

Sometimes, the rhythm of the slaps resembled the melody of famous songs; at other times, it seemed like a chaotic classical tune. The beats were erratic and unpredictable, yet no one dared to laugh.

Every note, every beat, was accompanied by the death of another outcast.

"Run! Run as far as you can!" someone screamed in desperation.

"Exactly! His ability must have a limited range. As long as we get far away from this demon, we'll survive!" Nôv(el)B\\jnn

At this point, the remaining outcasts completely abandoned any thoughts of killing Alex. All they wanted was to stay alive.

But their fate was sealed.

Alex's ability now manipulated fundamental principles, causing their heads to explode from the very root. It did indeed have a range.

If they could somehow break through dimensions and escape this universe, they might survive.

However, they had dreams of being protagonists but lacked the fate of one. There was no way for them to escape this world.

All they could do was pray that the next to die wouldn't be themselves, buying them a few more moments of life.

But that was all they could hope for.

They were destined to perish.

Alex continued slapping with a steady rhythm. By the time two songs' worth of beats had ended, the surrounding area was coated with a grotesque mix of white and red fluids.

Under the moonlight, this macabre scene of sticky fluids blending with the grass created an eerie, haunting picture.

Apart from a few patches of untainted ground scattered around, the only untouched spot was within one meter of Alex himself who is relishing under the illumination of the moon.

Beyond that, the area closest to him was the most saturated, the thick fluids forming a grotesque carpet at his feet.

Flexing his hands as though shaking off non-existent fatigue, Alex glanced at a young Taoist disciple of the Sect and smiled.

The disciple, utterly terrified, collapsed to the ground, trembling. Alex's smile only grew wider.

To slay hundreds of outcasts in such a simple and brutal fashion—Alex was satisfied.

He righteously thought to himself:

"Punishing evil and upholding justice is our duty!"

...

In the distant forest, the deranged Lu Jin was battling the Four Sorcerers—minus Xia He—as well as Yuan Tao and Han Dan.

Because of the Four Sorcerers' power to manipulate emotions, Lu Jin was on the verge of losing control. However, he had already found a way to counteract it: by completely surrendering himself to the abyss of rage.

In this state, he would ignore any emotional provocations, with only one thought dominating his mind—killing everyone around him.

But before he could fully descend into madness, a chorus of anguished wails suddenly echoed from afar.

The cries were filled with boundless terror, as though some unspeakable monstrosity was pursuing the wailers.

What was more alarming was that the sound was growing closer by the second. Judging by its speed, it would reach them very soon.

The combatants instinctively paused, their attention drawn to the approaching cacophony.

Moments later, dozens of figures burst into view, running frantically toward them.

The Four Sorcerers of Quanxing quickly recognized that these were members of their faction. But why were they fleeing so desperately?

They attempted to question them, but these fleeing members, who normally treated the Four Sorcerers with the utmost reverence, completely ignored their inquiries. Some even lashed out at them in blind panic.

Frowning, the Four Sorcerers dodged their attacks, but before they could react further, they witnessed something utterly horrifying: the heads of these once-intact faction members suddenly burst apart.

The scene unfolded so abruptly that they barely managed to avoid the splattering carnage. Nevertheless, their clothes were still stained with the grisly remains.

There was no time to clean the filth off themselves. The heads of more members continued to explode one after another, and in the blink of an eye, the ground was soaked with unidentifiable white-red fluids. A nauseating stench permeated the air.

Everyone present, whether it was the Four Sorcerers, Yuan Tao, or Lu Jin, stood in stunned disbelief as they watched the horrifying scene unfold.

In unison, they muttered:

"What... in the world... is happening?"

Within moments, every fleeing member in their line of sight had met the same gruesome fate. Not one survived.

As they remained frozen in shock, the sound of footsteps echoed in the distance.

Steadily, the sound grew louder, drawing nearer with each passing second.

°°°

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