Invincibility Begins with Mastery of Fist Techniques-Chapter 90: Entering the Body

"Go away! Don't bother me!"

The man at the table's face was bright red, his eyes glazed from excessive drinking, and his speech was slurred.

This was none other than Zheng Haiming, the eccentric but popular Fighter who had faced Zhou Yuanjue in the first match. He had brought a cheerleading squad to the tournament, only to be knocked unconscious by a single palm strike from his opponent.

After that defeat, Zheng Haiming had suffered a devastating blow. He could never have imagined that the fighting techniques he prided himself on at school would be so utterly useless. The experience had completely upended his understanding of combat and even human potential.

To make matters worse, someone had filmed the match and circulated the video within his fighting community. Ever since, he was teased and ridiculed wherever he went, which brought him an immense sense of failure and psychological stress.

Worst of all, amidst this sense of failure, he saw no chance of redemption. Looking back on that match, he could see no possible way to surpass his opponent. The man was like a colossal mountain peak soaring into the clouds, looming over his path and blocking his entire view, leaving him unable to see the way forward.

'That wasn't the Martial Dao,' he thought. 'It was a Daoist Skill, a Demon Technique. That opponent wasn't even human.'

'How could a human possess such terrifying speed, power, and presence? What kind of training could possibly bring the human body to such a state?'

That immense strength weighed on his spirit like a dark, suffocating cloud. He could only numb his mind and body with alcohol, hoping to forget everything in a drunken stupor.

The girl grabbed the bottle. Drunk, his body limp from the alcohol's effects, and faced with the girl's firm resolve, he couldn't even manage to snatch it back.

'My Power... have I become so weak that I can't even overpower a helpless girl?'

The scene stung him deeply, and in his daze, it was as if he were reliving the same powerlessness he had felt when facing that terrifying figure.

A surge of shame and anger erupted from deep within him.

"GET LOST!!"

Zheng Haiming roared and violently flung his arm. This time, he unleashed a surprising burst of strength. The girl, the "president" of his fan club, screamed as she was thrown from her chair to the ground.

The commotion instantly drew the attention of the surrounding tables. As people shot startled glances their way, Zheng Haiming seemed to sober up a little. Watched by so many strangers, he looked at the girl sitting on the ground and was suddenly mortified by his own outburst.

"You should just go home. Don't worry about me. I need to be alone for a while."

He pulled the girl up from the ground, fumbled in his pocket, and slapped two bills onto the table. Not daring to look at the girl's face, he hurriedly grabbed the two remaining bottles of liquor and staggered away from the barbecue stall.

The girl sat right where she was, staring blankly as Zheng Haiming's figure vanished into the shadows at the corner of the street. Suddenly, as if a dam had broken, she collapsed onto the greasy tabletop and burst out crying with a loud WAIL.

The man running the stall saw what happened and quietly walked over. He picked up the money from the table and saw that it was ten short. But looking at the girl sobbing uncontrollably, he couldn't help but shake his head and sigh. He grabbed a pack of tissues from a nearby table, placed it beside her, and left her alone.

But what no one there saw was that at the very street corner where Zheng Haiming had disappeared, a patch of shadow seemed to twitch faintly.

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Zheng Haiming walked back to his luxury apartment, drinking from one of the two bottles as he went. He SLAMMED the door shut, walked into his bedroom, and plopped down on his bed.

BEEP BEEP BEEP!!

Just then, his phone began to ring. Seeing the two prominent words "Money Bag" on the screen, he irritably declined the call.

A moment later, it rang again. He declined it. It rang again. Fed up with the noise, Zheng Haiming finally answered, his voice thick and slurred. "Yeah? What is it?!"

"I heard you've been participating in underground fights lately. Have you lost your mind? Why are you getting involved in that stuff? Do you have a death wish? What's the point of fighting, anyway? What era do you think this is? So what if you become a world champion?! I let you have your fun when you were a kid, but enough is enough. You're about to graduate, so don't push your luck. It's time to get your act together. After graduation, you're coming to work for the company. I'll arrange a position for you. Get your life back on track."

A deep, stern, and authoritative male voice came from the other end of the line.

"What gives you the right to control me?! What gives you the right to make my decisions, to deny everything I do?! Just because you're my dad?! Have you ever tried to understand me? Do you even care about me at all?!"

Zheng Haiming roared into the phone, his emotions boiling over.

"Have you been drinking?"

the man's voice questioned from the other end.

"That's none of your business!"

Zheng Haiming hung up and shut his phone off. The world was finally quiet.

He sat on his bed and stared out the window, lost in a daze. 'Do I even like fighting?' he wondered. He didn't even know himself. 'Maybe I'm just being stubborn, trying to prove a point to others.'

"I'll prove it to you all," Zheng Haiming muttered. "If that man could become so strong, then so can I!"

Suddenly, something outside the window caught the corner of his eye.

He whipped his head around. His pupils contracted violently, and his heart seemed to stop for an instant. Every hair on his body stood on end like a cat's. Cold sweat beaded on his skin as the alcohol seemed to burn out of his system in a flash, leaving him terrifyingly sober.

He saw it with terrifying clarity: floating in the darkness outside his window was a pale, human face. It wore a grotesque smile as it peered into his room.

Its skin was deathly pale and deeply wrinkled. Its eyebrows and hair were sparse and reddish-brown. Its horrifying mouth was filled with sharp fangs, and it had three bizarre eyes, their pupils glinting with a crimson light. It looked just like a terrifying Demon or an Evil Ghost from legend.

"Wh-what is that thing?!"

Zheng Haiming was paralyzed, unable to move. He watched in horror as the terrifying, Evil Ghost-like face floated straight through the window and into the room.

"So, you can see me? Looks like our frequencies are aligned..."

Then, he saw endless shadows spill out from behind the floating face, blinding his vision and binding his body. He tried to scream, to cry for help, but no sound came out.

All he could do was watch helplessly as the face floated before him, slowly spun around to reveal its back, and—like a mask—lowered itself onto his own face.

He felt a mortal terror and began to struggle violently.

"Didn't you want power? Now, I'm giving you what you desire."

The bizarre voice echoed in his ears as the sheet of skin finally covered his face completely.

About thirty seconds later, "Zheng Haiming" suddenly opened his eyes. For a fleeting moment, a crimson light seemed to flash within them.

"Such a fragile body. No matter, it'll be usable with a little reinforcement. Hmm, his Spirit is pathetically weak, too. And his memories are so dull. What a loser..."

Suddenly, Zheng Haiming's eyes narrowed. Within the memories, he had found a familiar figure.

"So, that person's name is Zhou Yuanjue? Now that is a powerful Spirit worth coveting. And all these Martial Artists gathered here... I'm sure 'everyone' will be very fond of bodies like these..."

Zheng Haiming stood up from the bed and walked slowly to the window. Staring at his own reflection in the glass, the corners of his mouth twisted into a bizarre smile.

"From now on, my name is 'Zheng Haiming'."