Chapter 157: Crawl out and face your death!

After hanging up the phone, Qin Mu sighed helplessly and set his phone down.

Wu Mu, sitting nearby, had overheard the entire conversation and smiled wryly as he explained, “The old general is just worried.”

“I know,” Qin Mu nodded.

He had a good relationship with the old stubborn general; years ago, there was even talk of entrusting him with command over the Southern Military District.

But Qin Mu found it too troublesome and declined.

Because of this, the old general locked himself in his room and sulked for several days, unable to understand why Qin Mu would refuse such an offer.

After all, it was command over an entire military district!

“But perhaps it’s been a long time since he last saw the general, so naturally, he doesn’t understand your true strength.”

“If he knew, he definitely wouldn’t have said that,” Wu Mu said with a teasing smile.

What significance does the Yuan family of Jiangcheng hold? Add a martial arts society to that, and what does it amount to?

After about ten minutes of driving, they soon arrived at the Yuan Family Martial Arts Hall.

No matter how lively the Yuan Family Martial Arts Hall usually was, it had never been as crowded as it was today. The entrance was packed with people jostling to get inside to witness the upcoming battle.

Qin Mu’s Bugatti Veyron, a symbol of status, immediately caught the attention of the thronged martial artists who had been clamoring and arguing loudly. Their voices abruptly fell silent as all eyes turned to Qin Mu as he stepped out of the car.

Once they got a clear look at him, exclamations broke out.

“My goodness, this guy looks even younger than the media reports!”

“At this age, even if he’d been practicing martial arts since the womb and possessed supreme talent, his internal energy should be at its peak by now. Where could he possibly find the courage to face Yuan Honggang?” someone questioned.

“But the fact that he dares to challenge means he must be well prepared. Maybe he truly has some hidden secret moves,” another replied.

“Bah! What good would that do? Before him, many have challenged the Yuan family’s authority,” a middle-aged martial artist, weathered and experienced-looking, countered.

“The Huang family with their fist techniques, the Song family with their kicks, and several others skilled in staff and sword techniques—all have come to challenge the Yuan family.”

“But none lasted more than ten moves against the acting head of the Yuan family; they were all defeated.”

“And shortly after, they vanished from Jiangcheng altogether. I reckon this young man is doomed to follow the same path.”

This well-founded remark drew many to silently nod in agreement, while also feeling a twinge of pity for Qin Mu.

It was rare to see someone bold enough to challenge the Jiang Alliance, but unfortunately, he had acted too hastily and provoked the most powerful among the top three families—the Yuan family.

To stand against the Yuan family was to court certain death.

Though they spoke boldly, everyone knew Qin Mu was not someone to be trifled with. They respectfully parted to clear a path for him to enter.

Qin Mu paid them no mind, flicked his nose, slipped his hands into his pockets, and walked into the hall with a calm demeanor.

He showed no hint of arrogance, appearing as just another spectator there to watch the fights.

Once inside, it was impossible not to be impressed by the sheer scale of the Yuan family’s martial arts hall.

Located in the city center, it was nearly half the size of a soccer field, capable of holding over a thousand spectators with ease.

Yet Qin Mu’s first impression was not the size.

Instead, it was the national flags of Japan hung at intervals along the walls, alongside numerous Japanese-style decorations.

A Chinese martial arts hall adorned with Japanese emblems?

Qin Mu narrowed his eyes and pressed forward.

He made his way to the central arena.

Though the agreed time for his match with Yuan Honggang had not yet arrived, many martial artists and onlookers had already gathered around the ring.

The atmosphere was charged with excitement and filled with jeers.

Qin Mu looked up to see two men locked in a fierce battle on the stage.

From their appearances, it was clear one was Chinese, the other Japanese.

The Japanese warrior’s hands were wrapped in bandages, his sinewy muscles rippling powerfully. Judging by his aura, he was far stronger than the Chinese fighter.

“Hahaha! Chinese trash, come on!” the Japanese fighter stretched and loosened his muscles, flipping off the Chinese man provocatively.

“Damn!” the Chinese warrior gritted his teeth, mustering all his strength and charging at the Japanese fighter.

Although he shouted fiercely, his energy was clearly insufficient.

With only a couple of punches thrown, the Japanese fighter found an opening, shattered half the Chinese man’s teeth with a punch, and then kicked him off the stage.

The crowd fell into stunned silence at the scene.

The Chinese fighter was already at a mid-stage internal energy level—a master who could serve as an instructor in any martial arts hall.

Yet he was treated like a monkey, kicked off the stage without respect.

Standing atop the ring, the Japanese warrior savored the feeling of dominance, laughing loudly at the stunned silence below.

“What, no one left?” he taunted.

“Lord Sato was right—your Chinese men are utterly despicable. Only your women are worthy of being our breeding tools!”

“The martial arts you’ve boasted about for so many years are not even a fraction of our Japanese martial way! Hahaha!”

This Japanese fighter, named Matsuda, had shifty eyes and a sly face. His chest bore the words “Martial Arts Society” embroidered in gold thread. He was a disciple of Sato and Mukai.

His brazen insults sparked a chorus of curses from the crowd.

Finally, a middle-aged martial artist could no longer bear it. Stomping hard, he leapt onto the stage with a single bound.

“This is China, not your Japan! You have no right to act arrogantly here!” the man roared, his internal energy surging fiercely.

He was at the peak of internal energy cultivation.

“Oh? Finally, someone worth hitting! I hope you won’t end up like those Chinese trash before you, crushed beneath my feet!” Matsuda laughed.

Before the words had even left his mouth, he coiled like a spring and suddenly lunged forward with a powerful punch.

The attack came too fast.

Even with his internal energy unleashed, the Chinese warrior could not defend in time and was struck on the neck.

That punch nearly broke his spine, threatening to end his life.

“Despicable!” someone shouted from the crowd.

“On the martial arts stage, who cares if it’s despicable or not? Winning is the only truth!” came a retort.

Matsuda laughed wildly, ignoring the voices around him, and unleashed a relentless barrage of punches and kicks, striking like a storm of rain.