Ring 3 in Zone C was one of the competition areas closest to the corner of the entire exhibition center.
Compared to the splendor and prominence of the main stage, the lighting here was slightly dimmer, and the audience was much sparser, mostly consisting of family and friends of the contestants, or a few scattered tourists looking for excitement.
The announcer's bland voice came over the broadcast, without an impassioned tone, just a routine announcement.
"Next, we will begin the preliminary round of the 'Fully Immersive Combat Mode,' C-3-1 match."
"Contestants A-777 and A-025, please enter the competition area."
Under the watchful eyes of Genos and Saitama, Lin Mo calmly walked into the competition area and put on his VR headset.
At the same time, his opponent, a young man who appeared to be in his early twenties, also put on his VR headset.
He had a lean, powerful physique, with slightly bulging temples and sharp eyes that gleamed with spirit when he opened and closed them, clearly a martial artist who had undergone rigorous training.
"Hmph, games..." A sneer of disdain hung at the corner of the young man's mouth.
"They're just a pastime for a bunch of amateurs. Let them see what true martial arts are."
His name was Ghost Dragon, the chief disciple of a karate dojo called "Gale Hall." At a young age, he was already a fourth-dan black belt, with a minor reputation in the domestic fighting scene.
He participated in this competition not entirely for the generous prize money, but more to fight against strong opponents from all corners of the world, to hone his skills and validate his martial arts.
"Match preparation complete, selecting scenario..."
"Scenario loading: Kyoto, Kiyomizu-dera Temple."
"Countdown begins: 3, 2, 1, FIGHT!"
Accompanied by the cold system prompt, the scene before Lin Mo's eyes instantly transformed.
An ancient wooden stage, cherry blossoms slowly falling through the air, and in the distance, the tranquil night view of Kyoto's old city.
The realism of the game environment was extremely high; he could even feel the slight chill of the evening breeze brushing against his cheeks.
Across from him, Ghost Dragon's game character—a man in a traditional karate gi—had already taken a stance.
"Let me show you the difference between games and real combat!"
Before he finished speaking, Ghost Dragon abruptly stepped forward, lowering his center of gravity, and delivered a swift low kick that swept like a whip towards Lin Mo's ankle.
This was the opening move of Gale Hall Karate—"Instant Wind Kick," which emphasized speed and suddenness, aiming to disrupt the opponent's rhythm and probe their weaknesses.
This kick was fast, accurate, and fierce, embodying Ghost Dragon's meticulously honed skill.
However, in Lin Mo's "Martial Arts Eye," this kick appeared full of flaws.
He didn't even consider blocking; he simply took half a step back with extreme casualness.
It was this half-step, no more, no less, that allowed Ghost Dragon's toes to brush past his pant leg, stirring a gentle breeze.
Missing his attack, Ghost Dragon's pupils constricted slightly, a hint of surprise flashing in his heart, but his fighting instinct prevented any hesitation, and his offensive grew even fiercer.
"Hah!"
He let out a low shout, and the Instant Wind Kick was immediately followed by a flurry of combination techniques, like a sudden storm.
Straight punches, knife hands, high roundhouse kicks—the moves were continuous, showcasing the "fast, accurate, and fierce" characteristics of Gale Hall Karate to their fullest.
For a moment, on the virtual Kiyomizu-dera stage, Ghost Dragon's figure was seen flying up and down, his sharp attacks almost completely engulfing Lin Mo.
To the few spectators outside the arena, however, this match seemed a bit comical.
"Hey, hey, what's that guy in black doing? He seems to be constantly retreating and dodging."
"Is it network lag? Why does it feel like his movements are half a beat slow?"
"That karate fighter on the other side is pretty fierce, but it's a shame he can't land a single punch. This match is so boring."
Saitama, in the stands, was watching with great interest, stroking his smooth chin as he said,
"It seems like his opponent's punches always just barely miss Mr. KING, that's really interesting."
"No, Sensei."
Genos, who was recording the battle footage, said, "Mr. KING always dodges attacks with the smallest possible movement. Their levels are not even on the same plane."
A storm raged in his heart. "I always thought Mr. KING's power, like Sensei's, was absolutely overwhelming."
"I never imagined... his attainments in martial arts techniques could reach such unfathomable depths..."
On the ring, Ghost Dragon's shock and frustration at this moment far surpassed anyone outside the arena.
He appeared to have the absolute upper hand, but only he knew that none of his attacks had managed to truly touch the opponent's clothes.
The opponent's dodging was not a large-scale jump or block, but an extremely subtle swaying of the body.
Sometimes it was a slight turn of the body, sometimes a twist of the waist, and sometimes it was even just a slight retraction of the neck.
That feeling was like every punch he threw with all his might ultimately landed on cotton, unable to exert force or retract it, making him so frustrated he almost wanted to vomit blood.
"Damn it! Don't just scurry around like a mouse!"
Ghost Dragon roared, his patience worn away by the prolonged ineffective attacks. He decided to use his signature technique.
"Secret Art: Gale Hundred-Rend Fist!"
He gathered all the strength in his body into his fists, delivering dozens of straight punches in an instant, at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye.
Each punch carried the sound of tearing air, and the shadows of his fists intertwined.
However, facing this seemingly unavoidable attack, Lin Mo finally made his first "attacking" move.
Amidst the flurry of fists, he unhurriedly extended a single index finger.
His "Martial Arts Eye" had long seen through the essence of this boxing technique.
The so-called "Gale Hundred-Rend Fist" sacrificed the power of a single attack for extreme attack frequency.
But precisely because of this, the strength of each punch originated from the arm muscles, rather than the overall body's power output, leading to a power vacuum at the starting point where all attack trajectories converged.
Lin Mo's index finger precisely tapped that "point."
His fingertip lightly touched the inside of Ghost Dragon's wrist.
Instantly, Ghost Dragon was struck as if by lightning, freezing in place.
He felt a peculiar vibration emanate from the opponent's fingertip, spreading from his wrist to his entire arm, and his proud ultimate technique collapsed without being attacked.
Immediately after, Lin Mo made his second move.
He executed a standard karate straight punch in front of Ghost Dragon with an extremely slow speed.
This punch was very slow, so slow that even the spectators outside the arena could clearly see every detail.
Sinking the hips, rotating the pelvis, sending the shoulder, extending the punch.
It contained an indescribable profoundness.
The spectators outside the arena were utterly bewildered.
"What's going on? After the fight, why is he doing calisthenics?"
"What kind of tactic is this? Slow-motion taunt? Boring, let's go check out other areas."
In the already sparse audience, the last few tourists who had come out of curiosity also got up and left, leaving only Saitama and Genos.
However, Ghost Dragon, who was in the midst of it, saw this punch and his mind went blank, as if enlightened.
He saw it!
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