Douluo Continent: Martial Soul Spirit Ball, Come Out, Haki Dance!

Chapter 137 Meng Yiran's Awakening: Tang San Isn't Worth It!

"Yiran, let me explain! It's not what you think!" Tang San roared, breaking free from the pull of the surrounding residents and rushing towards Meng Yiran without regard for anything else.

He moved quickly, his eyes filled with urgency and panic.

He had to catch up with Meng Yiran and explain things to her, otherwise he would lose her completely.

Just as he was about to rush out of the crowd, a tall, burly Soul Master with a fierce face suddenly stepped forward and kicked him hard in the chest.

"Bang!"

With a muffled thud, Tang San flew backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily to the ground and spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"Damn it! You lunatic, how dare you run around like this?" The Great Soul Master spat and cursed.

"You've dirtied my shoes, and you want to go find someone else? Get the hell out of my sight!"

Tang San clutched his aching chest, struggling to get up. His gaze was fixed on the direction Meng Yiran had gone, but her figure was getting farther and farther away, soon disappearing around the street corner.

"Yiran! Meng Yiran!" Tang San cried out in anguish, his voice filled with despair and regret.

His shouts echoed clearly throughout the entire street.

The surrounding residents were taken aback at first, then burst into even more intense laughter.

"Hahaha! So his name is Meng Yiran? This guy just said Xiaowu was his wife, and now he's calling out another woman's name. What a complete scumbag!"

"I was just feeling sorry for him, but now it seems he deserved it!"

"Someone who's two-timing and trying to steal the Holy Son's spirit ring partner deserves to be taught a lesson!"

"Scumbag! Despicable man!"

A torrent of foul language poured down on Tang San, and some people even spat at him and threw garbage at him.

Tang San slumped to the ground, letting the trash fall on him and the foul language pierce his eardrums.

His eyes were empty and desperate, his face devoid of any expression, only endless numbness remained.

Her father was humiliated, her lover left her, and she became a laughingstock. Everything vanished in that moment.

He thought that by possessing the memories of becoming a god, he could control everything and change his destiny. But in the end, he grasped nothing.

He lost Xiao Wu, lost Meng Yiran, lost his dignity, and couldn't even save his father.

Tang San slowly lowered his head, looking at his hands stained with blood and grime, his heart filled with endless regret and anger.

She hated Ye Xuan, hated him for taking Xiao Wu away, and hated him for making her so miserable.

He hated Meng Yiran, hated her for not believing in him, hated her for giving up on their relationship so easily.

I hate myself even more, I hate my weakness, I hate my incompetence.

If he hadn't shown affection for Ning Rongrong back then, if he had been committed to Meng Yiran, if he had found his father sooner, if he hadn't been so impulsive...

But in this world, there are no "what ifs".

As the sun set, the afterglow cast a long, long shadow of Tang San.

He sat slumped on the cold ground like a lonely soul abandoned by the world, enduring the condemnation and curses of thousands.

On a high platform not far away, Dragon Subduing Douluo and Thousand-Pound Douluo took in everything, their faces revealing cold smiles.

"This Tang San is truly a piece of trash." Qianjun Douluo sneered, his tone full of disdain.

The Dragon-Subduing Douluo nodded, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes: "But this is fine too. It saves us the trouble of taking action. He'll collapse on his own first. After the tournament ends, we can arrest him and hand him over to His Holiness the Pope for judgment."

"Hmm." Qianjun Douluo responded, his gaze falling on Tang San again, with a hint of pity.

"What a waste of such great talent, yet he turned out to be a scumbag and an idiot."

The crowd on the street gradually dispersed, leaving Tang San alone, sitting there all by himself.

As night deepened, the lights of Wuhun City gradually came on.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there, nor where he should go.

The father was also hung in the central square, enduring the ridicule of the world.

Meng Yiran has already left him and will never look back.

Xiao Wu treated him like a stranger, her heart and eyes were only for Ye Xuan.

His world completely collapsed at that moment.

Tang San slowly stood up and staggered toward the post station.

His steps were heavy and slow, each step feeling like he was walking on a knife's edge.

He knew that from this day forward, he would no longer be the spirited Tang San with the memories of becoming a god.

He was just a pathetic wretch, abandoned by everyone and penniless.

But a trace of resentment still lingered in his heart.

Ye Xuan! Bibi Dong! Spirit Hall!

He will not let anyone who caused him to suffer all this go unpunished!

A glint of madness flashed in Tang San's eyes. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging deep into his palms, drawing blood.

Even if it means being shattered to pieces, he will seek revenge!

Even if it means mutual destruction, he will make those people pay the price!

Fifteen minutes later.

Tang San dragged his battered body and staggered back to the inn where the Blue Tyrant Academy team was staying.

The kick wound in his chest was still throbbing, and the blood at the corner of his mouth had long since dried, leaving a dark red mark. Combined with his pale and haggard face, he looked extremely disheveled.

The moment I pushed open the hotel room door, the once lively lobby instantly fell into a deathly silence.

Dai Mubai, Ma Hongjun, Oscar and others were sitting around the table. When they saw Tang San come in, everyone stopped what they were doing and their eyes all fell on him.

That look in his eyes was incredibly complex, containing surprise, sympathy, confusion, and a hint of indescribable estrangement.

The air seemed to freeze, leaving only Tang San's heavy breathing.

He could clearly sense that the atmosphere within the team had changed. It was no longer the close-knit camaraderie of fighting side by side and sharing a common hatred for the enemy; instead, there was an invisible barrier, like a wall, separating him from everyone else.

"Mistress, what happened to you? How did you get like this?" Oscar broke the silence first, his tone hesitant.

He looked at Tang San's body covered in wounds and grime, his face full of confusion.

After the semi-finals, Tang San said he was going out for some fresh air, so how did he come back looking like this?

Tang San didn't answer, but simply lowered his head and walked straight to his seat.

His steps were heavy, each step as if he were under immense pressure.

Just then, his gaze fell upon Meng Yiran in the corner.

Meng Yiran sat by the window, still wearing the dress she wore during the day, but her face was as cold as frost.

She didn't look at Tang San, but kept her head down, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing the corner of the table, her eyes vacant, as if she was thinking about something.

Jiangzhu sat beside her, gently patting her back and whispering words of comfort, her gaze towards Tang San carrying a hint of...

blame.

Seeing Meng Yiran's appearance, Tang San's heart sank.

He knew that Meng Yiran was still angry and still misunderstood him.

He opened his mouth, wanting to explain, but the words stuck in his throat.

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