The Military Games had been underway, and the East Asia Military District, which had been the strongest contender and remained undefeated until now, had finally suffered a defeat—and it was in the premier event, the Martial Arts competition.

Qin Fen slowly walked toward the center of the arena. His first opponent was a soldier from West Asia.

Like all the other rookies from West Asia, before Qin Fen could even plant his feet firmly, he felt the burning, hateful gaze of the opposing soldier fixed upon him.

Hate? Qin Fen sighed with resignation. Should he have just stood still that day and allowed the Three Heroes of West Asia to kill him? Were only the lives of those three worth something, while the lives of others were no better than weeds?

"Qin Fen!" The word was spat out from between the West Asian soldier's teeth, heavy with venom. "Today, I will make you regret what you did."

Taking a moment to steady his emotions, Qin Fen looked quietly at his opponent. At one meter eighty-five, he wasn't exceptionally tall for a martial artist, but he was certainly well-built. His hands were covered in thick calluses, suggesting training in hard arts like Iron Sand Palm.

"Regret?" Qin Fen shook his head with a touch of pity. "Only the weak and incompetent live in regret. I will never regret anything I have done. Even if that action were repeated a hundred or a thousand times, I would make the exact same choice."

Their exchange drifted up to the stands, where tens of thousands of spectators were left completely bewildered, unable to grasp the meaning behind their words. All they could sense was a chilling killing intent emanating from the West Asian rookies.

If not for the strict rules governing the Rookie Games, no one would doubt that these West Asian soldiers would swarm forward to attack Qin Fen.

Yang Lie didn't bother observing the West Asian rookies or speculating about the root of the conflict between them; he watched Qin Fen quietly. Although there were other rising stars in the upper bracket of the competition, making a direct clash with Qin Fen unlikely, he still looked forward to the possibility of crossing swords with him.

Qin Fen’s dominance during the pistol shooting competition, coupled with his remarkably creative fighting style, had filled everyone with immense anticipation for his performance in the martial arts event.

Kaiser, from the European rookie section, watched Qin Fen with profound stillness.

Since they were in different competition zones, their only chance to face each other was in the finals. Still, observing this most talked-about rookie from East Asia and anticipating his fighting approach was quite rewarding in itself.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you may not know much about this Qin Fen," one commentator said, flipping through the in his hand. "Let me briefly introduce him. In the first two days of competition, this Qin Fen fiercely secured the championship in the Rookie Pistol Shooting and the Semi-Automatic Rifle events. His astonishing performance is truly unprecedented in the history of the Rookie Games."

"Exactly, exactly. I wonder how he will perform today?"

"I suspect it won't be bad. I heard he punched straight through several floors of concrete. He seems like a brute-force martial artist. I wonder if we will see those powerful feet of his today, or perhaps some rare grappling maneuvers?"

"Only heaven knows that. It is rumored he is a fighter full of creative combat methods."

The three commentators traded remarks, further heating up the atmosphere.

Before the bell even sounded for the engagement, the West Asian rookie had already assumed a full fighting stance, his internal Zhenqi circulating intensely through his meridians. Qin Fen could clearly sense his opponent's strength: a Four-Star Martial Artist.

Four-Star? Qin Fen felt a slight disappointment. He doubted he would learn much from an opponent of this level.

The moment the fight bell chimed, the West Asian rookie attacked immediately.

For any West Asian soldier, hatred for Qin Fen was absolute; they wished nothing more than to reduce him to dust with mortar fire.

He stepped out with lightning speed, his long arm whipping through the air like an ancient battlefield's cleaving axe aimed at Qin Fen's head. His iron palms had shifted from yellow to a bluish hue—this Iron Sand Palm technique had clearly reached a degree of mastery; perhaps not enough to shatter mountains, but certainly more than enough to split stones.

The West Asian uniform was looser than the East Asian ones, and as his arm swung down, it produced a loud huā lā sound, like a great banner in an ancient war being forcefully waved.

"Not slow, the force is fierce, but…"

Through countless fights, one's insight naturally sharpens.

Just by observing the West Asian rookie's opening move, Qin Fen knew the man had put considerable effort into his Iron Sand Palm. Unfortunately, his lower stance was slightly unsteady. In the Sky Martial Arts Network, this level of skill would present no issue. But bringing such ability to the Rookie Games felt somewhat underwhelming.

Watching the descending iron palm, Qin Fen suddenly rotated his ankle! The twisting force engaged his waist, causing a slight twist in his torso as he smoothly evaded the crushing power of the Iron Sand Palm—effectively dodging a 'Mount Hua Splitter'—and appeared instantly at the West Asian soldier’s flank.

"Whoa…"

A wave of gasps swept through the tens of thousands of spectators, and even the commentators expressed their surprise. "What is happening today? In two consecutive matches, someone is using the 'Dragon Concealment' move from Arhat Fist?"

Yang Lie’s typically composed eyebrows suddenly arched. As a master of the calisthenics boxing style, he had absolute authority to judge the effectiveness of the 'Dragon Concealment' he had just witnessed.

"Is that also Dragon Fist?" Yang Lie smiled faintly. "If it truly is Dragon Fist, then I hope we can fight, to see which of the two dragons is the true one."

Other young martial artists present, even if they weren't experts in calisthenics boxing, could clearly see that Qin Fen's evasion technique was in no way inferior to Yang Lie's earlier execution.

Some even began simulating the scenario, wondering if, under equal conditions, they could successfully strike Qin Fen while he employed the Dragon Concealment.

The West Asian rookie paused slightly. Dragon Concealment? Hearing the whoosh of a palm strike slicing toward him from behind, he violently snapped his head down, seemingly retracting his entire neck into his torso, and immediately rolled forward on the ground.

'Ape Monkey Narrows its Neck? Lazy Donkey Tumble?' Qin Fen chuckled lightly and did not press the attack. Forcing his opponent into a 'Lazy Donkey Tumble' made further pursuit seem petty and small-minded.

The West Asian rookie scrambled to his feet, his eyes burning with fury. His opponent dared to use a calisthenics move like Dragon Concealment, pairing it with the hand-blade attacks of Neo Karate! This East Asian rookie was showing him far too much disrespect!

Pa-pa...

With two sharp sounds beneath his feet, the West Asian rookie executed an 'Ape Monkey Forest Dive' toward Qin Fen, his Iron Sand Palms descending like a dark, overcast sky toward Qin Fen's head.

Qin ফেন’s thoughts raced. He sank his waist and lowered his stance, employing a 'Cloud Hands' motion from the Twenty-Four Form Simplified Taijiquan, meeting the West Asian rookie's Iron Sand Palm wrist. He channeled the incoming force, guiding it smoothly to the side.

The West Asian soldier had not anticipated that his opponent would not only dare to use calisthenics boxing but would use the comparatively inferior Twenty-Four Form Simplified Taijiquan.

In his haste, the West Asian soldier redoubled the pressure on his hand, determined to shatter Qin Fen's arm.

Kacha...

As their arms became entangled, the West Asian rookie felt an immense, sticky force adhering to his wrist. The next moment, that force acted like a precisely engineered channel, diverting his power—which felt like a surging river—onto an entirely different track.

Peng...

The West Asian soldier's palm struck empty air. He stumbled several steps forward before stabilizing his posture, turning back to see Qin Fen holding a steady 'Hand Waving Pipa' stance.

"What is going on today?" the commentator's voice sharpened with evident confusion. "First, the 'Little Dragon King' Yang Lie using calisthenics boxing, and now the East Asian rookie is fighting using the seniors' old style, the Twenty-Four Form Simplified Taijiquan! This dual shooting champion has a truly peculiar fighting style."

Yang Lie also watched Qin Fen, baffled. What was this man trying to achieve? He could have won easily just now, so why resort to the Twenty-Four Form Simplified Taijiquan? Was he trying to toy with his opponent? No! His personality didn't suggest he enjoyed making fools of people.

Qin Fen held the 'Hand Waving Pipa' stance open, looking at his opponent with an encouraging gaze.

If one does not know softness, how can one truly know real hardness? Qin Fen had been practicing the Twenty-Four Form Simplified Taijiquan for some time, but he rarely had the opportunity to truly test it in combat.

His past fights had always been matters of life and death, where one naturally unleashed their ultimate techniques, leaving little room to pause and engage using the Taijiquan forms. While practicing the stances could offer insight into the generation of hardness from softness, it was far less insightful than actual engagement.

Facing an opponent using the rigid power of the Iron Sand Palm, Qin Fen suddenly realized this was a perfect opportunity.

Practicing his forms during the main event of the Military Games? If Old Man Zhao knew about this, his beard would likely explode from rage. This was certainly another first in the history of the Rookie Games Martial Arts division—treating a competition opponent as a free sparring partner.

When the West Asian rookie saw Qin Fen's encouraging look, it instantly twisted into a look of blatant provocation.

No verbal taunt was necessary. The West Asian rookie lunged forward again, executing a 'Double Peaks Piercing Ears'—both massive hands smashing down from either side toward Qin Fen's temples, completely disregarding the overextended attack distance that left his own center wide open and undefended.

Qin Fen, completely immersed in internalizing the principle of hardness emerging from softness, was loath to simply use a 'High Probe Horse' kick to send his opponent flying. With a small shuffle, he moved half a meter forward, using two more 'Cloud Hands' motions to neutralize the attack.

Blown aside again by the force, the West Asian rookie rolled on the ground, then suddenly plunged his hand into his pocket. Concealed from the spectators' view, he swiftly retrieved two pills, shoved them into his mouth, and swallowed them whole.

This action, utilizing the angle for cover, fooled most people, including the referees stationed near the edge of the ring, but it could not escape the notice of his opponent, Qin Fen.

"Rage Pill?"

A flash of clear understanding crossed Qin Fen's eyes. The depth of his hatred had driven this West Asian soldier to risk post-match inspection by brazenly consuming a Rage Pill.

In every event of the Military Games, to uphold the principle of fair competition, the organizing committee explicitly forbade the use of any performance-enhancing drugs. Specifically in the Martial Arts section, the use of Rage Pills, Iron Armor Pills, or biological enhancements was strictly prohibited. Any confirmed use resulted in immediate disqualification.

The West Asian soldier cared for none of that now. The vengeance for his comrades, and the humiliation of being beaten around by an 'old man's boxing style,' left an uncontrollable blaze of anger in his chest.

As the Rage Pill took effect, a surge of Zhenqi erupted within the West Asian soldier; his Four-Star strength instantly peaked, and both his palms turned as black as charcoal. A hint of sorrow crossed the eyes of the observing rookies; they knew exactly what had happened.

Qin Fen maintained his 'Hand Waving Pipa' stance. Having taken the Rage Pill was actually better; it provided an even greater opportunity to truly experience the power of hardness within softness.

I'm hungry... time to eat...