Chapter 370: An Information Gap Has Strategic Value

Chapter 370 -198: An Information Gap Has Strategic Value

Zhang Chong sneered, sinking into a horse stance and bringing his left arm down to block Wan Ze’s whip kick with his forearm.

His forearm and shin collided.

THUD!

Zhang Chong’s body swayed.

The next second, his brow furrowed sharply. In that instant, his left arm felt something he had never experienced before.

The force of his opponent’s kick didn’t erupt from a single point; it surged forward, wave after wave.

By the time it traveled from his shoulder to his hips, his center of gravity wavered.

‘I almost lost my form!’

Zhang Chong was alarmed.

His Horizontal Training focused on “Qi Circulating Throughout the Body.” By drawing in a breath, all the muscles and fascia in his body would enter a state of high tension, forming a protective layer.

But if that breath were to be scattered, a flaw would appear in his protective layer.

That last kick had nearly scattered his qi.

Zhang Chong took a deep breath, re-circulating his qi to steady his stance.

But before he could even catch that breath, Wan Ze’s second whip kick had already arrived.

The foot from the first kick hadn’t even touched the ground when the second one lashed out from another angle. This was the Effect of the Reverse Spin Force.

It utilized the natural rotational inertia generated by the first kick. After reaching its apex, the leg would smoothly pull back in the opposite direction. The interval between retracting the leg and launching the next kick was compressed to an almost imperceptible limit.

The second kick wasn’t aimed at Zhang Chong’s side but came chopping down from above like a battle-axe.

Wan Ze’s right leg rose high, his knee above his waist, his lower leg folded back. His entire body was like a fully drawn bow.

Then he chopped down violently, his heel descending on Zhang Chong’s shoulder like the blade of an axe.

The Power of this kick was at least fifty percent greater than the first.

The first kick had used the explosive power of the lower leg, but this one mobilized the full Power of his waist, hips, thigh, and Core—a complete force channeled up from the ground.

Zhang Chong had no time to dodge. No time at all.

His left arm was still recovering from the impact of the first kick, and his right arm was out of position. It was too late to raise it.

He could only take it head-on.

He dropped his shoulder abruptly, tensing the muscles to their absolute limit, trying to use the thickness of his trapezius and deltoid to cushion the kick’s impact.

BOOM!

This sound was much louder than the last, like a clap of muffled thunder exploding on the bridge.

Zhang Chong’s expression changed drastically.

“Fuck!”

Before he could even finish the word, his entire body was sent flying sideways like a cannonball.

His feet left the ground, his body spinning nearly ninety degrees in mid-air before crashing heavily onto the third car. The metal frame instantly caved in, forming a deep dent, and all four tires sank at least five centimeters, as if pinned down by some immense weight.

Zhang Chong slid off the hood and fell to one knee.

Loose gravel on the bridge dug into his knee, but he couldn’t feel it.

Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead like rain, running down his brow and into his eyes, stinging them so badly he couldn’t open them.

Zhang Chong’s mouth twitched as if he was about to say something, but nothing came out. His teeth ground together audibly, and the muscles in his jaw bulged with the effort.

The next second, he gritted his teeth and stood up.

Though his knees were trembling, his back was ramrod straight.

He raised his head and looked at Wan Ze.

When he had slammed into the hood, he had cut his forehead. Blood gushed from the wound, covering half his face. The skin above his left eye socket had split open, and fresh blood ran down his brow ridge, dyeing his eyelashes and turning his vision crimson.

“Don’t touch my boss!”

Zhang Chong growled.

His lips were covered in blood, sending a spray of red spittle as he spoke, but his gaze hadn’t changed. It held a “you’ll have to step over my dead body” kind of finality.

Wan Ze ignored him and continued walking toward the car door.

Zhang Chong charged forward abruptly.

His left leg had been injured in the earlier impact, and he ran with a slight limp, but his speed was not slow.

He closed the distance to Wan Ze’s back in a couple of large strides and swung his right fist in a wide arc, aiming for the back of Wan Ze’s head.

He put all his remaining Power into the punch. The fist whistled through the air, its force undeniable.

But Wan Ze didn’t even turn his head.

His right hand whipped backward as if it had eyes of its own, palm open and fingers pressed together. He struck forward with the back of his hand, precisely intercepting Zhang Chong’s fist.

This was a variation of Xingyi Fist’s Cannon Fist. The principle was not to strike with the knuckles but with the back of the fist, hammering down like a sledgehammer.

The Power of this strike wasn’t great, but its strengths were precision and surprise. It used the explosive force of the wrist and forearm, generated over a short distance at high speed, making it nearly impossible to defend against.

SMACK!

The back of his fist slammed into Zhang Chong’s knuckles. Zhang Chong’s punch was knocked off course, and his body lost its balance, causing him to stagger two steps to the side.

Only then did Wan Ze turn around. His right hand smoothly followed through, hammering a fist into Zhang Chong’s face.

His aim was perfect, striking the spot where Zhang Chong’s nasal bridge met the point between his eyebrows.

This is one of the most vulnerable spots on the human face. It’s dense with nerves and the bone is thin; a blow there causes intense dizziness and excruciating pain.

Zhang Chong’s head snapped back violently. Blood sprayed from both his nostrils, drawing an arc through the air before splattering onto the bridge.

His body stumbled back another three steps. Each step was heavy, his soles scraping against the bridge with a harsh, grating sound.

But…

He stood his ground.

He didn’t fall.

Blood, mixed with saliva, trickled from the corner of his mouth.

Zhang Chong wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a smear of blood on his skin.

He glanced down at the blood on his hand, gave a cold laugh, and looked back up at Wan Ze. His blood-red eyes were obstinate, holding not a trace of fear, only unshakable resolve!