Chapter 113: Wang Baole — I fainted from hunger, or I would've blown Wu Ming's head off with one punch
On the arena.
Wang Baole stood shakily, his clothes in tatters, blood flowing from six of his seven orifices. He looked like he might collapse at any moment with a gust of wind.
Across from him, Wu Ming the monk didn't look much better. His monk robes were shredded, exposing nearly all of his muscular body.
Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth and eyes, even trickling from his bald head.
The crowd below held their breath at the sight of such a brutal scene, afraid even the sound of breathing might disrupt the outcome.
Neither of them made any move to attack again. They simply stood there, motionless, letting blood pour freely from their bodies.
Gurgle!
A perfectly ill-timed sound suddenly came from Wang Baole's stomach, breaking the tense silence completely.
The spectators instantly froze in shock, dumbfounded. They had watched hundreds of matches, but never had they seen anything like this.
Wang Baole thought to himself, 'Crap… I've run out of spiritual energy. My stomach's starting to protest. I have to go all in!'
He clenched his teeth, tightened his fists, and began walking slowly toward Wu Ming.
Wu Ming looked calm on the surface, but inside he was panicking. With every step Wang Baole took, his pressure grew.
The only reason he could still stand now was sheer force of will.
At this point, forget walking or punching—just standing up was exhausting. His final move had completely drained his spiritual power.
In Wang Baole's mind, only one thought remained: land a punch on this monk, no matter what.
Just as he came within a step of Wu Ming, he used the last of his strength to lift his fist and swing it toward the monk's face.
At the moment the punch was thrown, Wu Ming suddenly closed his eyes and thud!—sat down on the ground.
Wang Baole's punch hadn't been fast to begin with, but he never expected Wu Ming to dodge it like that.
As the fist sailed past, Wang Baole's vision went black and he collapsed to the ground.
Bang!
With a dull thud, Wu Ming's trembling body opened his eyes. Seeing Wang Baole fallen, he exhaled in relief. He wanted to say Amitābha, but didn't even have the strength to speak.
The referee nearby began the countdown, quickly reaching ten.
When that final "ten" rang out, Wu Ming's taut nerves finally relaxed, and he toppled forward.
The referee immediately declared, "The winner of this match—Wu Ming!"
Sigh…
The spectators let out a collective, regretful sigh.
"One punch… Senior Brother Wang was just one punch away."
"What a pity. That little monk had a flash of inspiration at the last second. Otherwise, if Senior Brother Wang's fist—big as a sandbag—had landed on his face, it would've been over."
"…"
In the stands, Xiao Chen and Cao Youqian immediately flew to the arena and lifted Wang Baole into their arms, carrying him offstage.
When the Xuanhuo Alchemy King saw Wang Baole being brought over, he pulled out a pill from his storage ring and offered it.
"Xiao Feng, this is a top-grade Rejuvenation Pill. Quickly, give it to your disciple."
"Many thanks, Senior Xuanhuo, but there's no need for the trouble," Chu Feng replied, then said to Cao Youqian, "Da Qian, quickly feed Little Fatty a few Fasting Pills."
"Got it."
Cao Youqian took out a few Fasting Pills from his storage pouch and helped Wang Baole swallow them with some tea.
The other institute heads watching this scene were stunned.
The Thunderflame King from the Spell Institute couldn't help but mutter, "Xiao Feng, is this how you treat your disciple? The kid's half-dead and you're feeding him Fasting Pills?"
The Sword Martial King also jumped in, "Xiao Feng, if you're too stingy with your pills, just send the boy to our Sword Dao Institute. I've got plenty of medicine."
Everyone already knew Wang Baole was a Gluttonous Physique, but after what he showed in that match, his combat power was simply too terrifying.
As long as he was nurtured up to the True Fate Realm, they were willing to grit their teeth and supply him with all the cultivation resources he needed.
At that level, even if he couldn't be raised into a Saint, reaching Nirvana Marquis was well within reach.
When the Thunderflame King heard this, he immediately grew displeased. "Sword Martial old man, what's that supposed to mean? Wang Baole is a descendant of a half-Saint from our Law Institute. If he's going anywhere, it should be our institute!"
"Heh."
The Sword Martial King let out a cold laugh. "Weren't you the one who let your people dump Wang Baole into the Miscellaneous Dao Institute? And now you're trying to take him back? Don't you feel the slightest bit of shame?"
"You—!"
At the mention of this, the Thunderflame King's face turned grim with frustration. He made a mental note to go back and teach that old fool a lesson. 'He's the descendant of a half-Saint, and you couldn't even bring him to meet me first?'
Chu Feng smiled and said, "I appreciate both of your kindness. Once Little Fatty wakes up, I'll be sure to pass along your opinions."
Just as he finished speaking, a weak voice came from nearby.
"Ma… Master, are you calling me?"
Everyone turned to look and saw Wang Baole lying there weakly.
Chu Feng smiled and pulled out a piece of dried meat the size of a table from his storage pouch. It came from a True Fate Realm demon beast.
"Eat something first."
"Mm!"
Wang Baole's eyes lit up at the sight of the meat, drool dripping down from the corner of his mouth.
Cao Youqian took the meat, tore it into several chunks, and handed Wang Baole one piece first.
Wang Baole didn't care about appearances. In front of all the institute heads, he began devouring it like a starving wolf. Xiao Chen even occasionally handed him tea.
The sight stunned all the big shots present.
'This brat is insane! After taking such a heavy beating, not only did he wake up so quickly, but he's got such a healthy appetite?!'
Most disciples would need three to five days to recover from that kind of fight—ten days at most—even with top-grade healing pills.
Burp~
After finishing the meat, Wang Baole let out a satisfied burp.
Chu Feng stepped forward and patted his shoulder. "You full now, brat?"
"Yeah, that last move drained all my spiritual power. I fainted from hunger. Otherwise, I would've blown Wu Ming's head off with one punch."
Wang Baole spoke sullenly, but then he suddenly felt several gazes locked on him.
Only now did he realize that all the institute heads from Wendao Academy were watching. He hurriedly stood up and gave a respectful bow.
"Disciple Wang Baole greets all senior uncles."
Silence…
The institute heads froze for a few seconds before snapping out of it.
The Carefree Sword King smiled and said, "Little Fatty, no need to be so formal. We all saw what happened just now. No one will hold it against you."
"Ah?"
Wang Baole scratched his head awkwardly. "This disciple lost his composure before the seniors. I hope you all can forgive me."
"Hahaha…"
The Carefree Sword King laughed out loud, and the other institute heads joined in as well.
Chu Feng patted Wang Baole's shoulder with a smile. "You don't need to be so restrained. After this tournament, you'll officially become an inner sect disciple."
"Now that all the institute heads are present, you may choose any one of them to become your master."
At those words, all eyes turned to Wang Baole with anticipation.
Looking confused, Wang Baole asked, "Master, can't I stay in the Miscellaneous Dao Institute?"
Chu Feng replied, "Of course you can, but it's tradition that you explain your reason to the elders."
"Oh."
Wang Baole nodded and beamed. "Master, I want to stay in the Miscellaneous Dao Institute. All my senior brothers and sisters here are geniuses, and the food's really good. I absolutely love it here!"
As soon as he finished, the entire group of institute heads fell silent…====================================================================================
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