How is that possible!?
The hands that had been holding the long spear were numb, almost losing sensation, as though he had just begun training under his senior brother's strict supervision, thrusting the spear continuously for three days and nights.
What in the world happened?
Confused, the voice of Xue Jing, unfluctuating in tone, sounded beside his ear.
"Your chance is used up, you did your best."
As soon as the words fell, a severe pain suddenly transmitted all over his body.
A fishing rod, transforming into the familiar endless torrent, enveloped him.
"Zzzzzzz——"
The unsharp fishing rod, yet like a real spear, punctured one densely packed bloody hole after another in his body.
This scene, almost identical to the previous competition except for the different weapon, left Zhou Yinglin somewhat dazed.
"Weak thrusts."
"Clumsy backhand."
"Loose footwork."
"Slow reaction."
