Game Invasion: A new term for each level

Yang Hui looked at the three new entries and began to ponder.

The first option is absolutely not to be selected. It's a minor issue if the other options are randomly selected, but if his "steady and reliable" option is randomly selected, how can we even play?

The second and third options are even more perplexing. Why can't we select all of them?

These two combined clearly form a small synergy.

I felt cold and shivering.

The negative effects of the second option are far too numerous. He will challenge another person later, so choosing now is undoubtedly like lighting a lantern in the toilet—courting death.

In this case.

Yang Hui deliberately sank into the panel and crushed an item entry.

Only three keywords were displayed. One of them became blurry and was then replaced with "[Art is an explosion!]".

Therefore, Yang Hui decisively chose the new term that had been replaced.

The new entries appeared on the panel, and I had a better understanding of what was going on.

The power of an explosion depends on the rarity level of the attribute.

However, he is not very sure about the specific scope; he needs to use it once to be sure.

The metal plates of the octagonal cage opened, gleaming with a cold light.

Yang Hui, expressionless, waved his hand on the stage and said, "Who's next?"

The people in the audience looked at each other, some hesitantly moving forward, unsure of what to do after recalling what had just happened.

The person who had just died was somewhat famous in the wilderness and had quite a few supporters, but he died so easily in just a dozen seconds.

Whoosh!

A group of people wearing tan armbands rushed in, squeezed into the crowd, and split into two paths leading to the octagon, causing most of the people to swear.

"Damn it! Who is it?! Don't step on my foot!"

"Why are you stopping me! I'm a regular customer!"

"Stop talking, look at their armbands, the people on them."

Yang looked towards the end, where a person walked out with one hand raised.

"I'm here~ I'm here~ I'm Alai~"

He seemed amused by his own words, and put his hand down under his nose.

Alai was wearing a black training uniform with white trim and soft-soled black cloth shoes. He had a young face and squinted small eyes, making it difficult to see where he was looking.

The crowd became restless.

"It's Alai!"

"The 100-man kill in the octagon? Black Mask's most formidable henchman?"

"I need to get away, or I'll get covered in blood."

-----------------

The long-haired man behind the sofa breathed a sigh of relief; Alai had arrived.

Even a level 24 long-haired man couldn't guarantee a win against him; at best, he could only manage to stay undefeated.

When they found Alai, he had already killed five homeless men who had tried to steal his clothes.

He never said where he came from, but after joining, he made a request: he wanted a training room. Almost every few days, he would leave himself covered in bruises.

Everyone thought he had gone mad. In this wilderness, who doesn't live for the moment and indulge in a life of luxury?

The man in black said, "Your captain and I are actually old acquaintances. I'm giving him face."

Pei Feng turned his head and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Your friend just killed someone. Here's your chance: you can walk out unharmed, but your friend will be stuck here forever."

"unnecessary."

"I misjudged you just now, but I have to give you some advice about facing Alai. If he loses, you will both die here." The black-masked man's words seemed to have a magical power: "You can still leave now and save your own life."

"Let's go, let's go. Do we really have to make things this tense? I frequent that antique shop too; it's your official outpost."

Pei Feng knew in his heart that he had been betrayed; the informants in this wilderness had not been used for a long time.

"It is human nature to think of oneself, there is nothing shameful about it, and there is no need to feel guilty about it."

"You are you, he is he, nothing is more important than living."

Pei Feng raised his head with a contemptuous smile, interrupting him: "I know, you don't dare to kill me, so you went to gamble with Yang Hui to find a way to let me go."

He had already been betrayed, and his identity had been revealed, but Pei Feng was confident that his entry was definitely unknown and had never been exposed from beginning to end.

Even within the Administration Bureau, everyone's biography is kept secret; no one knows it except for the records in the archives center.

The more he talks and the weaker he appears, the less confident he is, whether his shoulders have been removed or he has been forcibly controlled.

The man in black was silent for a moment, then said, "Alright, you've seen through me. I'll say it again: if he dies, you'll die too. I didn't want to change the location of the stronghold; it would make me look like a stray dog."

The long-haired man's withered arm slowly tightened, and Pei Feng's face turned pale. He silently counted in his mind that it would still take some time before his injuries healed.

-----------------

Alai rolled into the arena, and the octagon slammed shut with a loud bang.

Ding!

The ringing of the bell signaled the start of the deathmatch.

Alai was rather short. He hopped lightly on his toes, swinging his arms. Seeing that Yang Hui didn't move, he stepped forward and unleashed a flurry of punches, leaving a trail of afterimages.

Yang Hui nimbly dodged, took a small step back, bent his arm, gathered his strength, and twisted his waist, aiming at Yang Hui's chin from below.

If that punch lands, it'll knock out at least two of his teeth.

Faced with the situation, Alai turned his fist into a claw and slashed horizontally towards the throat.

Yang Hui was startled. If he were to be gouged out by this, he would be crippled. He could only retract his fist, lean back and dodge. He felt a pain in his chest, took two steps back, and created distance.

Looking down, I saw that my clothes were torn at the chest, with three bloody scratches.

"Not bad," Alai said casually.

Yang Hui thought to himself: He's a master.

He just traded injuries for injuries, hurting the enemy a thousand while losing eight hundred of his own. Avoiding danger is human nature, it's ingrained in our bones. Although it can be overcome through training, the other party went a bit too far.

If Yang Hui's punch had been faster and harder, it wouldn't have just knocked out a few teeth; a mild concussion would have been a given.

Thinking of this, Yang Hui chose to take the initiative. Taking the initiative would actually put him at a slight disadvantage, because he would always reveal a weakness unless he made it impossible for others to see his first move and launched a thunderous attack.

Yang Hui has always done it this way.

His punches were as swift as the wind and as fast as lightning, but Alai blocked with bent arms, his moves were free and easy, and in the back and forth, Yang Hui saw some clues.

Snapped!

Alai grabbed his wrist, and Yang Hui, not to be outdone, seized the other's vital point.

The two sides were locked in a stalemate.

"Do you practice traditional martial arts?"

I guess so.

Alai countered, "How did you train?"

"Given by the entry."

"Oh, then you really deserve to die!"

Alai took a step forward, aiming straight for his knee and the back of his thigh. This kick could be summed up in one word: fast!

However, the next second, his other supporting leg fell to the right, and he suddenly lost his balance.

Yang Hui thought to himself: No matter how fast you are, can you be faster than my blink?

He immediately raised his elbow to strike, but Alai extended a foot and kicked his forearm. The reaction force caused Alai to slide, his head hitting the edge of the iron cage with a clang.

Alai stood up, a warm stream running down his face. Looking down, he saw drops of blood on the ground.

Yang Hui grinned; it seemed the matter would be over soon.

Alai remained completely calm and said indifferently, "You're a bit strange, but it doesn't matter."

Yang Hui frowned, a piercing pain shooting through his forearm.

Upon closer inspection, the spot where I had just been kicked was covered in bluish-white down.

Yang Hui leaned closer and took a sniff.

What is this? Is it moldy?