Chapter 27: Subduing Wang Long

Wang Long wasted no words. He simply clasped his fists and said, “Please,” then gripped his staff, waiting for his opponent to draw a weapon—unaware that Wang Ling had no intention of using his refined iron battle axe.

Suddenly, before Wang Ling appeared a tortoise shell the size of a millstone, its surface green. He gave it a hard shove, and the shell immediately slid forward at speed. This item, brought from the world of Mario, left Wang Long astonished—never in his life had he seen such a thing! Yet as the shell hurtled toward him, his martial instincts warned him not to let it strike his body. He thrust his staff forward, pressing the tip against the front of the shell.

The shell weighed about a hundred pounds, and its sliding momentum added to its force. Wang Long’s strength was far inferior to the Demon King Koopa’s, and as his staff met the shell, he realized something was wrong—the shell’s force far exceeded his expectations. Instantly, he sank his waist and exerted his strength, shifting from a single-handed grip to a double-handed one. The staff braced against the shell bent suddenly, and he unleashed a powerful upward force from below!

But at that moment, he sneezed.

For a staff master, generating force relies on tension drawn from the dantian, on channeling the power of waist and abdomen, and keeping the chest taut with breath. To sneeze at such a crucial moment was disastrous—the gathered force was instantly dissipated. Still, as a martial arts master with strong mental discipline, though the force leaked from his body, he managed to hold on with his arms.

“Up!”

With a loud shout, the hundred-pound shell was flipped into the air with a sweep of his staff, spinning several times before crashing to the ground. The effort was so great that Wang Long staggered, quickly retreating to regain his balance.

Wang Ling had been waiting for this chance. Another shell appeared in his hand, as large as the last, but red in color—this was the tracking shell, which would automatically home in on its target once sent out!

In the Mario world, he had acquired nine sliding shells and three tracking shells. He had used one of each against Koopa, and now had used them again. The first sliding shell had been paired with his “Troublemaker LV1” ability to reveal a flaw in Wang Long’s defense and to let him gauge its weight.

As expected, after Wang Long realized the shell was a hundred pounds, and having just forced himself to recover from a sneeze and send the shell flying, he hadn’t fully regained his composure. He dared not block with his staff again, choosing instead to dodge. After all, the shell wasn’t too fast, and his agility would let him evade it.

Wang Long twisted aside, letting the millstone-sized shell graze past him. But, unfamiliar with its properties, he fell into a trap—the red shell was designed to home in on its target!

The tracking shell, having slid behind him, abruptly turned and struck Wang Long in the back. Instantly, its special effect activated. A ring of spinning yellow stars appeared above the burly staff-wielder’s head, and his eyes turned into spirals—he was stunned.

Wang Long’s base stats were not high, and his resistance to negative effects was far weaker than the monstrous Demon King Koopa. The shell’s three-second stun would last two full seconds on him—could Wang Ling possibly injure this burly, robust martial arts master so badly in just two seconds that his vitality fell below ten percent? Obviously not.

Wang Ling had never counted on it—given the thickness of that layer of fat, it would take much more. When the shell struck, Wang Long’s health bar barely moved, further proof of his exceptional stamina.

He had another plan.

The moment he used the tracking shell, Wang Ling broke into a sprint, activating his acceleration skill as he ran. He was like a whirlwind heading straight for Wang Long.

Now at level four, his acceleration skill increased his running speed by forty percent, plus an extra ten percent from a bonus effect—such momentum would be tremendous! An average person struck at this speed would be sent flying and likely knocked out cold.

There was, however, a drawback: with acceleration at level four, his agility dropped by forty percent during his charge. If the target moved aside, he’d have no way to change direction in time, and the charge would be wasted.

But Wang Long, just struck by the tracking shell, was now a sitting duck.

Did Wang Ling intend to simply knock Wang Long down with his charge? Of course not—there would be little point, and not much damage. Wang Long’s fat layer was thick; even if knocked down, he could get back up and pummel Wang Ling in short order.

When Wang Ling was only two steps from Wang Long, he suddenly leaped.

He lunged forward, leading with his head!

“Thunk!”

A dull, resounding thud rang out as Wang Ling’s forehead crashed against Wang Long’s. The collision, powered by his full speed and strength, was ferocious. The moment their heads met, Wang Long’s massive, two-hundred-pound frame trembled violently, his flesh quivering. He staggered backward as if drunk, while Wang Ling, thrown back by the rebound, landed heavily on his backside.

Pain seared Wang Ling’s forehead, and his vision went black. He felt hot liquid trickle down—a touch confirmed it was blood. Yet he felt no fear, only exhilaration: his headbutt had landed!

His plan was to rely on his “Iron Head” passive skill, which reduced physical damage by forty percent and absorbed ten points of base damage, to deliver a savage blow to Wang Long’s skull.

Why not use the refined iron battle axe? Because the axe, striking flesh, would do little harm to Wang Long. If it struck his neck or skull, Wang Ling wasn’t sure if it would sever his neck or split his head. The rules of the martial arts scenario card stipulated “absolute non-lethality,” but he couldn’t risk testing if Wang Long would survive such wounds. Besides, a full-force headbutt delivered more impact than an axe blow.

His true aim was to knock Wang Long senseless, dizzy—best if it caused a concussion, so he could carry out the next phase of his plan.

No matter how skilled Wang Long was, the head remained a vulnerable spot. Wang Ling, using every ounce of his strength and all the momentum from his acceleration, landed a blow that clearly exceeded Wang Long’s limits. Now the big man’s legs were wobbling, his forehead split and bleeding as if a dye shop had exploded on his head.

Just as Wang Ling had once been dazed by a staff blow, Wang Long was now reeling from the headbutt, his ears ringing, vision dark, mind a blank—after all, even with the “Iron Head” skill, Wang Ling was left bloodied by the recoil, so Wang Long’s injury could be imagined.

Naturally, with Wang Long’s physical and mental resilience, he’d recover quickly if given a moment. But Wang Ling had no intention of allowing that.

Climbing to his feet, Wang Ling charged again, first kicking away the staff, then using his bloodied forehead to deliver another vicious headbutt! Wang Long’s massive body toppled backward, and Wang Ling’s forehead smashed into his face, shattering the cartilage of his nose, which collapsed completely.

Panting heavily, blood streaming down from his brow and blurring his vision, Wang Ling had spent nearly all his strength on these two headbutts. Gritting his teeth, he threw himself onto Wang Long, locking his arms around the man’s neck.

From the length of Wang Long’s health bar, Wang Ling could see that the two headbutts had only done about ten percent damage. If Wang Long regained his breath, the outcome would still be uncertain. Moreover, if Wang Ling failed to defeat him this time, Wang Long would be prepared in future, making victory nearly impossible.

Thus, Wang Ling clamped his arms around Wang Long’s neck, preventing him from escaping, though this left his arms unable to attack. Instead, he puckered his lips and blew as if making a bubble.

With this subtle motion, a pink heart the size of an apple flew from Wang Ling’s mouth, striking Wang Long’s vulnerable throat. The heart exploded joyously on the skin, scattering into beautiful pink motes of light, while Wang Long’s throat caved in sharply. His body convulsed, eyes wide, blood pouring from his lips.

“Pink Heart: Consumes ten points of spirit, allowing you to spit a pink, heart-shaped energy at a target. The heart’s damage equals your own physical attack, but counts as energy damage.”

This was the skill that came with Peach’s Heart! The damage from “Pink Heart” was equivalent to Wang Ling landing a full-force punch. On the body it might have little effect, but with Wang Long’s throat exposed by the chokehold, the attack landed squarely on his windpipe.

Feeling Wang Long’s spasms and struggles in his arms, Wang Ling didn’t stop. His base spirit was seventy-five, with his necklace adding fifteen more; acceleration had cost two, Pink Heart ten, leaving seventy-eight. In other words, he could fire seven more Pink Hearts!

He spat out four in quick succession. Wang Long’s throat was a bloody, mangled mess, breathing barely audible—his windpipe and blood vessels shattered, a mortal wound.

Finally, as Wang Ling prepared to launch a fifth Pink Heart, a surge of white light separated the two. In that light, Wang Long’s split brow, shattered throat, collapsed neck, and swollen eyes all began to heal rapidly.

When the light faded, Wang Long was fully restored. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees and bowed to Wang Ling. “Master, your courage and boldness humble your servant! Since I have been defeated, I will keep my oath and serve you faithfully! From this day forward, I will follow you wherever you command, through blade and fire, volley and storm, without fear or hesitation!”