Chapter 116: The Promised Time Has Arrived

After the match ended, the spectators gradually began to leave the arena. Bai Ying followed the flow of people toward the exit passage.

Indeed, they were strong. As he walked, Bai Ying recalled the scenes he had just witnessed. Those three fighters had not revealed their true strength during the competition. His heart tightened with unease. This was troublesome. Hao and Wushen from the Sikong team were clearly stronger. If they fought using only Luffy’s physical body, victory would be completely out of reach. If only he hadn’t seen it! Thinking of the missing Feiyan, a wry smile appeared on Bai Ying’s face. Feiyan was clever; after the match, no one knew where he had gone. Was he preparing for the final battle? But if he could restore his true form, there might still be hope. Recalling the smoke that had returned him to his past life, Bai Ying’s tense mood eased slightly. If only he could find the formula for that smoke. Once he regained the power of his previous life, dealing with these two wouldn’t be so difficult.

Just as Bai Ying turned a corner, lost in thought, the crowd ahead suddenly vanished. Behind him, the same happened. The bustling throng seemed to have been whisked away in an instant. The corridor emptied completely, not a soul in sight. The entire passage became desolately silent.

Sensing something wrong, Bai Ying stopped. His cautious instincts, remnants from his past life, heightened. This strange atmosphere was unsettling. Where had everyone gone? His eyes scanned the surroundings. Then, two familiar figures emerged from the opposite corridor. They were the very same men he had seen at the competition—Hao and Wushen from the Sikong team. The two stopped just in front of him.

“You’ve been watching for quite a while,” Hao, on the left, sized him up and spoke first. “Are you the only one here? That’s some confidence.”

“Not exactly…” Bai Ying replied cautiously, unwilling to reveal his hand before understanding their intentions. Years of experience had taught him to keep his cards close to his chest.

“No need to be so tense,” Hao smiled faintly, trying to reassure him. “I wouldn’t have made a move when the match started.” He paused, then added, “But the four of you—your deaths are set for the day after tomorrow.”

“Four of us?” Bai Ying asked, surprised.

“Yes,” Hao nodded with satisfaction at Bai Ying’s shocked expression. “One of you will die today. Who it is, you’ll find out soon enough.”

Hearing Hao’s sudden declaration, Bai Ying’s heart jolted in alarm. One of them would die? What nonsense was this? But before he could react further, Wushen, who had remained silent, suddenly struck the corridor wall with a heavy thud of his left fist. The sound snapped Bai Ying out of his shock. His gaze instinctively shifted aside, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Hao, who had been speaking moments before, suddenly vanished.

“!?” Where was Hao? In the brief moment his attention was drawn to Wushen, Hao had disappeared.

Bai Ying couldn’t believe his eyes, stunned by the scene before him. Just as he was flustered by his own carelessness, a pair of hands reached out from behind, gently stroking the hair beneath his earlobe. The owner of those hands was none other than Hao, who had mysteriously vanished moments ago and now stood quietly behind him.

“Your hair is damaged,” those delicate, almost feminine hands slid upward through Bai Ying’s hair. “Do you take care of it?” The restless hands continued their slow ascent, softly caressing his smooth neck and tender cheeks. The sensation made Bai Ying’s hairs stand on end. “You need to maintain it properly. The human body is quite fragile.”

“You bastard!” Feeling insulted, Bai Ying swung his arm back fiercely. He was utterly careless to be ambushed from behind without the slightest warning—it was humiliating. Losing his usual composure, he grew agitated. Yet his reflexive strike had no effect; Hao had already slipped back to his original spot as if he had never moved.

“Don’t mind me, I was just joking,” Hao said with a sideways glance at the agitated Bai Ying, acting as if nothing had happened. Tilting his head, he fixed his gaze on the angry young man. “Among these five, I still like you the most. When you kill someone you care about, your mind goes blank, wondering why you even live. But,” his eyes glittered with excitement as he stared into Bai Ying’s nervous ones, “that thrilling rush that keeps you awake is so intoxicating. Just like right now.”

Feeling he had had his fun, Hao turned and raised an arm in farewell, walking down the corridor. “I look forward to the scene two days from now…”

I can’t win. Absolutely no chance. Watching their departing backs, Bai Ying’s forehead was drenched in cold sweat. The aura of death loomed so close. Since his rebirth as a human, Bai Ying had never faced such peril. Just now, it was a close call. If Hao truly intended to kill him, it would be effortless. There wouldn’t even be a chance to resist. His movements were too swift—so fast that Bai Ying hadn’t sensed any fluctuation in his energy before Hao’s hands gripped his neck from behind. This was a fatal blow for someone about to face a life-or-death battle.

In a real fight, he could die inexplicably before even landing a blow. Though Hao’s words unsettled him, and Wushen’s sudden action diverted his attention, the speed of Hao’s disappearance and the hand at his neck haunted him. Bai Ying straightened his stiffened body. With his current strength, he had no hope at all.

The sun sank low, its dying light draping the island in a crimson glow. The blood-red sunset had lost the scorching heat of noon, growing cold and lifeless. A gentle sea breeze swept over the grasslands as two figures approached each other.

“You’ve aged, Jinghai,” Sikong Lang said as he arrived at their meeting place. Casually removing his shirt, he revealed a muscular torso and tossed the garment to the ground. He strode toward Master Jinghai. “Time is ruthless.”

“You haven’t changed,” Master Jinghai said quietly, looking upon the familiar face with mixed feelings. The appearance was the same, but something within had altered beyond recognition. “Still the same as fifty years ago.” She swept her hair back calmly. “I never thought half a century would pass so quickly. And now I attend this martial arts tournament as a guest, called out by you—the one I once called my comrade.”

Her expression turned serious as she faced the man both familiar and strange. “Why did you summon me?”

Still wearing those dark glasses, Sikong Lang seemed to have sealed away his inner world, making his thoughts impossible to read. Looking at Master Jinghai, his face unreadable, he replied, “Don’t pretend you don’t know. It’s to let you witness the cruelty of time.”

He took a step forward, pressing her with a question, “Then why do you wear that mask? Don’t want me to see your respected face?”

“Enough arrogance,” a nameless fury suddenly flared within Master Jinghai. The anger came without reason, disturbing the calm she had just regained. Suppressing the indescribable feeling, she said lightly, “There are plenty of demons who want me dead. I just don’t want some people recognizing me.”

“…” Sensing the shift in her aura, Sikong Lang paused. Looking at the aged face before him, an unfamiliar emotion stirred deep within him—one he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He recalled when he was human, this indescribable sensation was called heartache.

Facing this frail body once more, Sikong Lang was shocked to realize that this long-lost feeling lay hidden beneath his dark glasses, deep within a place even he had never noticed.

That little junior sister who had once stayed by his side, never leaving his side; that delicate beauty who had shielded him from a lethal blow with her fragile body; the beautiful bride with whom he had made eternal vows—now, a stranger standing opposite him, his enemy to be slain. Was this my fault? Uncomfortable with this strange sensation, Sikong Lang forcefully withdrew from it.

Seeing Master Jinghai silent as well, Sikong Lang changed the subject and asked, “Is there a successor to the Spirit Wave Fist yet?”

“…” Master Jinghai said nothing, merely studying him intently, taking a long, careful look—at the one who had once stirred her heart, who had been the reason for vows and betrayals, trying to understand why he had become like this.