Tan Feng’s Fighting Style

 

Xing Ye thought they would soon be facing a fierce battle, but unexpectedly, until the train arrived at the fourth station, the other side still had not launched an attack.

“Why is this happening?” Yang Zhuang said after waiting anxiously for over half an hour, his nerves stretched tight. “They’ve already confirmed your location—shouldn’t they rush over to attack you as soon as possible? What if you run away again later?”

Xing Ye said, “There are many possible reasons. Maybe one player’s ability needs time to activate, and they’re planning something; maybe they guessed that during the first half hour we’d be tense and fully prepared for battle, possibly even setting traps, and they don’t want to fall into our trap right now, so they plan to delay and wait until our morale declines before attacking; or perhaps… they’re simply waiting for the train to reach the fourth station?”

Just as Xing Ye said, Yang Zhuang had been in a highly alert, battle-ready state. The first surge of effort is strongest, the second weaker, the third exhausted; after half an hour, his mental state was already somewhat fatigued. If the enemy launched a sudden assault at this moment, he might not be able to react in time.

“Anyone who’s managed to survive in an advanced world until now has some real skills—none of them can be underestimated,” Xing Ye underlined. “But don’t underestimate yourselves either. We’re very strong. No matter what abilities or combat experience the opponent has, the battle plan I just sent you is sufficient to deal with any kind of ability.”

Yang Zhuang: “…But there are five combat modes in total, and each one splits into different branches depending on the players’ abilities, plus how to respond to emergencies. My head is a little messed up right now…”

“So instead of sitting here being nervous, you might as well memorize it again properly,” Cao Qian said.

Yang Zhuang scratched his head and gloomily picked up his phone to memorize it like a high school student. The thermos cup had to memorize along with him—the couple was suffering immensely.

About three minutes later, the train entered the station and came to a complete stop. Cao Qian opened the carriage door and saw Yan Hebi sprawled over the driver’s console, looking utterly defeated—“I’m done,” “I can’t move anymore,” “If any of you want to beat me to death, go ahead,” “Thinking is a luxury for me right now” written all over his face.

Seeing how useless he looked, Cao Qian lifted him with one hand and carried him into Carriage No. 1 to rest.

At this moment, Yang Zhuang’s “No one in sight” effect had expired, and the passengers in Carriage No. 1 stared in shock at this petite woman who could carry a 1.8-meter-tall man with one hand.

Yan Hebi was tossed onto a seat and lay there half-dead, limp and unmoving. Only when Xing Ye walked up to him, removed his sunglasses, and extended a hand amid a blaze of glittering light did Yan Hebi stir.

“This was your battle alone, and it is also your victory alone,” Xing Ye said. “You protected every player on this train. You are the true uncrowned king of this world.”

The trendy man’s real appearance was actually very similar to Xing Ye himself, only slimmer and more delicate, with fashionable androgynous makeup. Exhausted as he was, Yan Hebi froze when he saw Xing Ye like this. He reached out and grasped Xing Ye’s hand, feeling strength surge back through his entire body.

Time was tight. Xing Ye gave Yan Hebi his WeChat ID and told him to add him immediately once he got his phone back so they could stay in contact. Xing Ye instructed him to get off at the front of the train, hand over control to the new driver, then change into casual clothes in the break room. He was not to return to Carriage No. 1—he should wander casually between Carriages 2 to 20. He was absolutely not to expose his identity as a player, not to attack anyone, and simply act like an ordinary passenger who had just boarded.

Yan Hebi didn’t quite understand why Xing Ye wanted him to do this, but out of absolute trust in Xing Ye, he obediently left.

After he was gone, not only Yang Zhuang—even Cao Qian looked at Xing Ye with confusion.

Xing Ye said slowly, “Yan Hebi’s QR codes were exhausted in the previous world. Right now, he only has one defensive item and isn’t suitable for combat. I think we’ve been too focused on where the other players are and overlooked some key issues. Let him gather information—there may be unexpected gains.”

Yan Hebi left, changed into casual clothes, and used his train driver credentials to ride for free, quietly blending into the passengers.

Meanwhile, the new high-speed rail driver was already in position. The train slowly departed the platform, and Xing Ye and Cao Qian sat quietly in their seats.

If the enemy truly needed to prepare something on the platform, then after departing the fourth station, they would need to stay alert at all times.

Not long after leaving the station, the train entered a tunnel nearly ten kilometers long. Even a high-speed train had to slow down to pass through it. After exiting that tunnel, five minutes later, it would pass through another slightly shorter tunnel.

Altogether, the tunnels would take nearly half an hour.

Just before entering the tunnel, Xing Ye suddenly said, “Once we enter the tunnel, the lights on the train have to be turned on. Our opponents include a train attendant—if he deliberately turns off the lights in Carriage No. 1, wouldn’t that effectively seal off Yang Zhuang’s ‘No one in sight’?”

“Not only that,” Cao Qian said. “The first tunnel alone will take at least ten minutes to pass through slowly. If they succeed in a surprise attack, ten minutes is more than enough time to destroy all evidence.”

Xing Ye added, “If they have hypnosis-type abilities or QR codes and put the passengers to sleep, even if something happens, no one would notice in time.”

“Then how would they see in the dark?” Cao Qian asked.

“Shao Lin’s companion has an extremely keen sense of smell…” Xing Ye said warily.

Cao Qian asked again, “What if we have flashlight-type QR codes?”

Xing Ye: “…The opponent may also have an ability that plunges the surrounding environment into darkness for a limited time…”

In short, with heightened olfactory senses as a premise, darkness favoured the enemy even more!

The train entered the tunnel. Cao Qian and Xing Ye exchanged a glance, and Xing Ye immediately said to Yang Zhuang, “Use ‘No one in sight,’ then take the thermos cup and sit in the front row by the window in the corner—it’ll be easier for us to locate you! If anything unexpected happens, shout—Cao Qian can get there in time!”

Yang Zhuang obediently activated “No one in sight,” blocking the other passengers’ vision, and hid himself in the corner, hugging the thermos cup so no one could see him. At this moment, the lights in Carriage No. 1 were still on, and Xing Ye seized the opportunity to start drawing QR codes.

Leaving the lights on at first was meant to lower their guard. The tunnel time wouldn’t be long—at most two minutes. The enemy would definitely make a move. Drawing more QR codes now was preparation.

Cao Qian also used “Transforming Girl” for the second time. This ability could only be used twice within 24 hours—she could no longer deactivate it. Once deactivated, she would lose her enhanced agility.

Fortunately, Xing Ye had drawn many scalpels and “Fist of Glory” QR codes for her while waiting. Cao Qian put on the gauntlets and transformed them into half-finger gloves that enhanced finger strength.

By then, Xing Ye had rapidly drawn one “Ping-Pong Ball” and three “Paper Substitutes,” taking two minutes.

The three paper substitutes transformed into replicas of the three of them and sat close by, neither too far nor too near. Yang Zhuang controlled the range of “No one in sight,” allowing others to see only the paper substitutes and not the real three.

Once all preparations were complete, the lights inside the high-speed train suddenly went out, plunging the entire carriage into pitch-black darkness.

Cao Qian stood amid the ping-pong balls scattered across the floor, holding her breath and listening carefully to the sounds in the carriage. The noise of the train passing through the tunnel interfered with hearing, but if one focused enough, sounds could still be detected.

This move was calculated well. Without lighting tools, they could only rely on their phones’ flashlights. But in darkness, a flashlight would expose one’s position. If they threw their phones aside, they wouldn’t be able to use QR codes—no one would be willing to abandon their phone.

What the enemy didn’t know was that Xing Ye didn’t need a phone to use QR codes at all. And Cao Qian had just used the delayed-type QR code “Equivalent Exchange” on Yang Zhuang; she couldn’t use other QR codes for a short time anyway, so she could safely toss her phone aside.

Thus, faint phone lights lit up at both ends of the carriage.

But the moment those lights appeared, everyone’s shadows were cast onto the carriage walls.

Cao Qian’s sharp eyes caught sight of countless shadows emerging on the walls, binding her own shadow and instantly immobilizing her!

No wonder they waited until after disembarking at the fourth station to act. First, they needed to use the platform to set up these thin threads outside Carriage No. 1. Second, they had to wait for the tunnel cluster after the fifth station—only then could the threads control their bodies through their shadows from outside the carriage!

Cao Qian realized that these threads could probably attack from inside the carriage as well, but the enemy held back and placed them outside instead. That way, even if they wanted to eliminate the threads, they couldn’t—because it was impossible to get outside the high-speed train while passing through the tunnel.

The thin threads were clearly controlling them through the shadows cast by the light onto the carriage windows. The opponent knew that Xing Ye was aware of his keen sense of smell, so they deliberately did the opposite — intentionally making Xing Ye guard against scent-based attacks in the darkness, tricking them into using flashlights, which caused their shadows to be projected onto the carriage!

What terrifying combat awareness this was—such scheming was truly frightening!

This was the first time Cao Qian had encountered an opponent whose battle layout abilities were almost on par with Xing Ye’s. Her initial skills all relied on physical strength; now that she was restrained and unable to move, she could not exert any combat power at all. And the opponent had never even revealed himself—so even if Linlin wanted to use “Idleness,” she couldn’t do it!

At this moment, outside the carriage, in the smoking area between Carriages No. 1 and No. 2, Tan Feng stood quietly with his eyes closed, holding in his palm a shadow puppet wrapped in countless thin threads. This was his Fate-following Item, and it had two abilities.

First, it could turn a player or an NPC into a shadow puppet and completely control them. The prerequisite was that the controlled target must have skin—human skin, cowhide, pigskin, anything would do. However, if the player was like those in Puppet City or Mountain God Village—wooden puppets or paper figures—this ability could not be used. Shao Lin had intended to use this ability to control Yan Hebi, turning him entirely to their side from the inside out, and have him ambush Xing Ye from behind. This ability could only control one person per world, and the requirements were extremely strict: the puppet strings had to be tied to the target’s limbs, neck, and head, otherwise complete control could not be achieved.

Second, the shadow puppet could release countless thin threads that would stick to the opponent’s shadow and bind them. This ability only served a restraining purpose. Its advantage was that there was no limit to the number of targets—it could bind anyone whose shadow fell within the reach of the threads. The advantage of the train setting was that it had glass: inside a tunnel, light within darkness would project Xing Ye and the others’ shadows through the windows. Even if Tan Feng had attached transparent threads to the outside of the carriage in advance, he could still control Xing Ye and the others in reverse. The downside was that this ability could only last for ten minutes.

But ten minutes was already enough to determine the outcome of the battle!

After sensing that everyone had been restrained, Tan Feng nodded to a player wearing a jade Buddha pendant around his neck and said, “Once you enter, kill anyone you see—passengers or players alike. We don’t know if they’ll use visual deception to make us mistakenly kill passengers, so we can’t let anyone go, understand? Don’t worry—if we finish the battle and clean up the scene within ten minutes, even if the train police have no evidence, they won’t be able to do anything to us.

“Most importantly, the Thirty-million-point player is in Carriage No. 1. Kill him and the game ends—how would there still be train police coming to arrest us?”

The player wearing the jade Buddha pendant—Wang Sipang, whom Xing Ye and the others had encountered in the previous world—nodded. He truly admired Tan Feng’s sharpness in combat. After hearing his plan, he felt that this time, the Thirty million points really had nowhere left to escape.

Holding a large sheet of white paper, he pushed open the door to Carriage No. 1 and began spitting saliva onto the paper—peh, peh, peh—while still finding time to shout, “You’ll all be killed by me—none of you will escape!”

Wang Sipang’s initial skill, “Paper tactics” (NT: literally “discussing military tactics on paper,” meaning empty talk with no practical experience), allowed him to take a sheet of white paper and boast loudly at it; the saliva splattered onto the paper would transform into small soldiers that attacked the enemy. These soldiers had extremely fragile combat power—on par with stick figures—but their advantage was sheer quantity. The disadvantages were obvious: each soldier cost 50 points, and each one only lasted for three minutes.

 

Translator : DarNan