It was a one-on-one match as before, but this time another elder hosted the event.
The spiritual pressure he released was so potent that some of the weak-willed disciples fainted on the spot, leading to disqualifications.
From the initial two thousand participants, only around a hundred remained standing.
"Now that the trash has been eliminated, let's begin," the elder announced, proceeding to call out names.
"John Foster vs. James Carter!" the two disciples in blue stepped onto the battle ring.
"Are you kidding me? How do you not have any cultivation base at all?" James asked, clearly perplexed.
"It's because I'm already an immortal, boy. I don't need any cultivation base to defeat you," John replied calmly.
"Die!" James raged, brandishing his high-level magical sword in the fight, only to be punched squarely in the face by John.
BANG!
James didn't know what hit him; all he knew was that he was suddenly kissing the ground.
"This speed..." The elder hosting the event was shocked. Such speed was beyond what an inner disciple or even someone in the Foundation Establishment realm could possess.
"Is he already in the Gold Core realm?" the elder mused aloud.
"Impossible!" he immediately countered his own thoughts. After all, the Gold Core realm powerhouse had a lifespan of a thousand years.
He checked the event's data sheets and realized that this young man was only twenty years old.
"A twenty-year-old in the Gold Core realm? Impossible!" The elder shook his head, a sentiment shared by the many other elders witnessing the scene.
Still, what followed next shocked them to the extreme.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Just as before, every fight ended with a single punch.
"He's One Punch Man!" a spectator shouted, and soon the entire crowd joined in.
"One Punch Man!"
"One Punch Man!"
"One Punch Man!"
They chanted happily, especially those who had bet on the fights between these inner disciples. With John Foster's mysterious and overwhelming power, it was nearly impossible to bet against him.
The rounds came and went until it was time for the finals.
"John Foster vs. Max Pain!" The disciples took their places, and for the first time, John faced an elderly opponent.
Cough
Cough
Cough
The old man coughed, appearing frail and unhealthy.
"Are you okay? You don't need to fight. Just concede. I'll even give all my rewards to you," John offered. The old man looked like he was on the verge of collapse, using a cane to support himself.
"Thank you for your kind offer, Young Master Foster. But I must decline. I can't afford to shatter my dao heart by accepting defeat before the fight even begins," the old man replied, his tone indicating he had done his research on John.
"Okay then. Just don't die on me, old man," John nodded. The battle commenced, and he threw a punch.
"I see it," the old man focused intensely. At the peak of the Foundation Establishment realm and over 500 years old, he was the strongest in the group before John's arrival.
"I see it!" the old man reaffirmed. He spotted the punch coming towards him, the only one in today's event to do so. But as he moved to dodge, he realized his speed was akin to a turtle in a race.
Bang!
The punch landed true, sending the old man flying like all the others before him.
"What a punch," were the old man's last thoughts before he fell unconscious to the ground.
"One Punch Man!" the crowd cheered wildly.
The event concluded, and once again, our MC was crowned champion. That very night, he retired to a different place.
"I got a mountain, my pick from the sect's treasure house, and a storage ring full of spirit stones. I should be happy, I guess," John sighed as he entered the mountain.
The spiritual essence there was rich, but he had no intention of cultivating in this new location. The next morning, he visited his usual hangout.
"Master One Punch Man!" one of the patrons cheered.
"Master One Punch Man!"
"Master One Punch Man!"
"Master One Punch Man!" The rest joined in, echoing the sentiment.
"I don't like that name. Change it to Handsome Immortal. That suits me better," John commented.
"Master Handsome Immortal!" one agreed eagerly, knowing free drinks were likely to follow.
"Master Handsome Immortal!"
"Master Handsome Immortal!"
"Master Handsome Immortal!" The others quickly caught on, realizing the perks that came with the new title. From that day onward, our MC was known throughout the sect as the Handsome Immortal.
But then he realized that too much fame could sometimes be a headache, as he discovered the following week.
"Master Handsome Immortal?"
"Are you there?"
Two voices, both male. One was 300 years old, the other 600, yet both appeared no older than 18.
They wore the red uniform of core disciples, signifying their status as Gold Core realm cultivators who could live over 1,000 years, if fortunate enough to avoid premature death.
"What do you want, boys?" John asked, not opening the barrier to his cultivation mountain.
"We would like to invite you to explore a secret realm with us. There are rumors that this is t—" one of the men began.
"Not interested. Come back in a thousand years," John cut him off with a firm refusal.
And the disturbances did not stop there.
"Master Handsome Immortal! You fake pretentious bastard! I challenge you to a death match!"
"Senior Handsome Immortal, can you please teach me the dao of one punch?"
"John Foster, you are summoned to participate in a sect-friendly competition."
The disturbances came one after another, but who was our OP MC? He was already a True Immortal and could not be bothered by the likes of these.
He continued his daily drinking spree until an unexpected visitor from his past arrived.
It was an old man bearing no sect uniform but wearing the colors of his own clan.
"Master Honored Immortal, can you please summon or inform my young master John Foster that this old slave is looking for him? There's an urgent matter to attend to in his hometown," the old man said at the gates of the sect, where several guards stood at attention.
"John Foster? You mean Master Handsome Immortal? Excellent, I'll escort you personally!" One guard eagerly volunteered, a big smile spreading across his face.
Everyone in the sect knew that Master Handsome Immortal also bore another nickname: the Filthy Rich Immortal.