Lust Arena

This is my sixth time visiting this bar.

I sit alone in a secluded corner of the hotel, drinking my sorrows away.

The surroundings are noisy and chaotic; the hotel is the most disorganized place in the city.

On the square table, a bottle and a glass, filled with a still slightly bubbling dark brown liquid, reflect
a blurry face in the glass.

As a promising young man in his early twenties, at a time when I should be striving for my future, I'm
holed up alone in this vulgar bar, drinking cheap liquor that tastes like horse piss, unable to afford even a small dish of food, with no
beautiful women , contemplating a bleak future while lamenting my fate.

My name is John Joe. A very common name.

Just grab a few people off the street, and two out of ten will be named John. Even the annoying guard dog at the Royal Knights' Mansion
is named John. So you can see how
common .

As my name suggests, I am an ordinary person, so ordinary that I'm almost unremarkable. My appearance is like that of a street
vendor , a plain-looking face—the kind that even if you committed adultery, robbery, murder
, and arson, the knights maintaining order in "Nokron City" would pass by without recognizing you
. I often secretly blame my mother for giving me such a slovenly appearance, but then I think, everyone has their own unique talents.
This plain, unassuming face is perhaps meant to draw attention, making it easier for me
to commit crimes . However, I'd rather be handsome; being wanted by the state wouldn't matter.

I looked at the diverse guests in the hotel: warriors, mages, martial artists, merchants, prostitutes—
it was truly a melting pot of all sorts of people. Although everyone had different professions, genders, and appearances,
they all shared one thing in common: they were all equally crude and vulgar.

What kind of place attracts what kind of people. Like a garbage dump, it's a place specifically for collecting garbage.

A few low-level mages occasionally showed off their pathetic little spells, using wind magic
to lift the skirts of hotel waitresses, indulging in their perverse fantasies.

A few balding, middle-aged warriors, some older, hunched over, chuckled as they cuddled several
prostitutes .

A group of tall, burly martial artists huddled together, chatting about something, occasionally slamming their fists on the table and cursing,
insulting the female relatives of someone.

A few money-grubbing, shifty-eyed, unscrupulous merchants constantly fiddled with their abacuses,
plotting how to swindle their customers out of their money and make a fortune.

Sigh! Speaking of these merchants, I'm reminded of the greatest misfortune of my life: having a good-for-nothing
father .

Perhaps it's because I have his genes that I've become just as useless as him. My father's
name is the same as mine, John Joe, so to distinguish us, everyone calls this useless
old man—Old John. Inevitably, the lowly title of "Little John" will fall upon my only son.

Our Joe family has been merchants for generations, practically traversing the entire
continent of "Brubro" due to our extensive trade. Thanks to the hard work of our ancestors, our family's accumulated ill-gotten wealth
made us one of the wealthiest families in the Kingdom of "Shat."

Unfortunately, since my grandfather's death, my useless father has taken over the family business, and the Joe
family 's fortunes have plummeted to rock bottom. The people of the Kingdom of Shat consider this astonishing
act of squandering a legendary "incredible event," a fact that should be met with neither pride nor shame.

I imagine that after my father's downfall, he'll be beaten half to death by my grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather,
great-great-great-grandfather… and over three hundred other ancestors. To squander a
fortune —it's no wonder he'll be condemned to eternal damnation.

So, when I was four, my life as a pampered young master ended. Before I even knew how to enjoy
life , our Qiao family's luxurious mansion, land, businesses, and factories were all confiscated by the government. My
father, meanwhile, took his wife and children to the countryside to herd cattle and farm, hoping to rebuild the family fortune someday, and also
fearing punishment from their ancestors in the afterlife.

Therefore, he placed all his hopes on me, his only son, cultivating me from childhood as a tool for accumulating wealth
, hoping I would become a cash cow for the Qiao family, forcefully instilling in me the ways of business. Unfortunately,
he forgot that I carried his genes. Being so incompetent himself, how could his son be any better?
It was simply wishful thinking to expect a hen to lay golden eggs.

I'm not cut out for business; my father set a precedent of business failure, and I don't
want to .

I'm even less suited for magic.

First, I'm not smart enough.

Second, I'm lazy.

To become a successful magician, besides talent, one must undergo arduous training. Otherwise, one's achievements
will only be like those guys using air magic to lift their skirts—either releasing a small fireball to light a lamp or
using ice magic to cool hot coffee; their abilities are limited to that. Moreover, magicians rarely live past forty;
just for that reason alone, I would never learn it.

Magicians seem to have particularly short lifespans, perhaps due to their constant contact with and use of superhuman magic, thus incurring
divine punishment. Perhaps it's because God wants to balance the world; otherwise, if magicians all lived to be a hundred years old, their magic
growing stronger with practice, then other professions wouldn't exist.

Black magic is primarily offensive, destructive magic.

There is also a type of divine magic primarily focused on healing.

Those who practice healing magic deeply abhor selfish black magic, because these people are like the nuns in churches
who curse themselves to never touch men again and the priests who refuse to sleep with women; they most enjoy practicing things that can help and
save the world. To learn divine magic, it's best to be a virgin; a pure heart and body can unleash its full
power.

Of course, divine magic isn't omnipotent; it can only heal external injuries, poisoning, or dispel magical curses. But
when it comes to illness, this damned divine magic is useless. Otherwise, why haven't I
heard of any prostitutes asking priests to use divine magic to cure their syphilis? I
have absolutely no interest in this kind of thing that only monks learn.

Business is out of the question, magic and divine magic are out of the question, so there's only one path left for me—martial arts.

Martial arts are divided into two types: becoming a bare-handed martial artist, or a warrior with weapons.

It is said that some martial artists are ascetic, fearing that indulgence in wine and women will
deplete . Therefore, they live ascetic lives, though their lives are monotonous, their achievements are
remarkable. I've heard that at the end, they can tear a giant bear apart with their bare hands—a somewhat hearsay story, but undeniably alluring.

However, I'm destined not to be a martial artist, because I masturbate four times a week; I have no
energy left to cultivate the transformation of essence into qi, qi into spirit, or spirit into the Dao. So, that path is out of my reach.

Then there's the warrior. A standard warrior must possess a robust physique,
the strength of an ox, and the ability to wield weapons with impressive power. If martial artists cultivate internal strength, then warriors cultivate
external strength—that's the difference between these two professions.

Warriors, unlike martial artists, don't attempt to unleash the full potential of humanity. They don't need to develop
invincible bodies, nor do they adhere to the outdated principle of fighting bare-handed.
Victory is simply about smashing the enemy's head with a weapon, regardless of the rules.

Therefore, being a warrior is the most common profession in this era, and most of them are scoundrels.

However, many warriors either become butchers due to desperation or join the army hoping
to achieve merit and rise in rank and wealth, but most end
up dying on the battlefield.

Conversely, the skill level of warriors varies. Take, for example, the current Grand Master of the Knights of Nokron—Ruba
Gedda, a warrior by origin who climbed the ranks through illustrious battles. He once said
:

"No matter what role you play now, no matter what profession you are in, there is no
shortcut to success." The same applies to martial arts. Even if you're naturally strong, to become a highly skilled and incredibly brave warrior, there's no other way
but to train diligently step by step.

To put it bluntly, if you want to be as strong as him, train slowly and steadily.

Because of this, many lazy young people have given up
their delusional dreams .

Dear readers, after reading this far, do you think I would never choose such a thankless and arduous profession?
If so, you're wrong.

I am now a warrior—John Joe, a 372nd generation descendant of the Joe family, a lonely,
average girlfriend for twenty-two years
.

Don't be puzzled as to why a lazybones like me would become a warrior. Actually, there's no other reason. If
you were there when my dad held a knife to my neck, I believe you would understand.

Yes, I was forced into it, driven to desperation.

My father forced me to go out and do business, leaving me no other choice. So, I pretended to be a martyr,
vowing to restore the glory of the Qiao family, making my parents feel that our family could still be saved. I boasted that I would achieve
great success within ten years and return to bring honor to our ancestors, allowing them to enjoy their retirement. Of course, that was if I survived.

This flattered them, and my father put down his cleaver, beaming, patting my
shoulder vigorously, urging me to hurry up and go out to make my way in the world. He seemed never to have worried that I would die far from home. The next morning, my mother
packed a bundle, my father casually stuffed a few copper coins into my hand, and then kicked me out the door to fend for myself.

And so, I wandered from an unknown village in the Kingdom of Xia to the
bustling , thankfully surviving the journey.

My father always said: "At home, rely on yourself; away from home, rely on friends."

Now, in this unfamiliar place, who will I rely on?

A month ago, when I entered Nokron City, a kind old woman suffering from mild amnesia
led me astray through several streets before I finally found the
Roya Warrior's Hall, a martial arts school that sheltered traveling martial artists and trained martial arts talents.

Because of this, I naturally embarked on the path of a warrior. The reason wasn't that I was combative
or physically strong, but rather that only by becoming a warrior or martial artist could one stay at this warrior's
hall, where food and lodging were provided free of charge.

The formation of warrior's halls is the most distinctive feature of the Kingdom of Shat, because the old king of Shat—Kemen?
Shat—was extremely fond of martial arts and was a warrior in his youth; how he later became king is unknown to me. All the

warrior's halls in Nokron City are state-run, because no one outside the country would want to spend money to support a
large group of idle people who just loaf around all day; therefore, the masters of the halls are appointed by the state. The residents here are either
warriors or martial artists. Aside from the main disciples, most live here for free, with only
a few being traveling martial artists passing through and staying for a few days.

Because this era values gender equality, many women aspire to be female warriors or martial artists.
Therefore, the martial arts academy has separate dormitories for men and women, though they are physically separated… well, trouble still arises
occasionally .

The state, of course, wouldn't waste its resources. If a skilled martial artist is discovered within the academy, the headmaster will
recommend them. Those who are lucky enough to pass various physical and combat skills tests will be enlisted in a knightly order or sent to the mansions of the wealthy and
powerful as bodyguards—a true leap in status, a hundredfold increase in wealth.

Therefore, to encourage everyone's martial arts aspirations, the academy frequently holds martial arts tournaments, where participants fight
until they are bloodied and bruised, enjoying themselves immensely. These idiots train hard every day just to gain the country's favor,
hoping to become the nobles' lapdogs and lick their boots.

So, a young man like me, unambitious and self-preserving, never participates in such pointless struggles. I
only wish to live a peaceful life, casting aside all talk of climbing the social ladder. The most
important thing is to live well, enjoy life, and be happy. It seems my old man's expectations for me are going to be dashed,
because I'm not going to clean up his messes.

Because…

“Oh, isn't this Brother John? What brings you here for a drink today?” A nasty,
grating female voice pierced my ears, interrupting my thoughts and preventing me from continuing to introduce the Samurai Hall's
features.

I looked up, and a bloated, disgusting figure appeared in my sight. Her arrival gave me
the illusion of a slight earthquake. And because of her arrival, the surrounding noise suddenly
seemed .

The warriors stopped joking, the magicians looked melancholy, the martial artists were uneasy, the merchants trembled slightly, and even the prostitutes
became dignified. The bar, which had been as noisy as a marketplace, transformed into a moment of
quiet .

She was the proprietress of this run-down bar—Aunt Lucida.

I addressed her as Aunt Lucida not because of her age, but because of her size and appearance. I wasn't
a regular here, but I had seen her a few times. Just like last time, she was still wearing terrifyingly heavy makeup,
clothes inappropriate for her age, swaying her large breasts and wiggling her big buttocks as she walked towards me step by step.

"John, you haven't been to my shop in a long time. What great business have you been up to lately?" Without my
permission , she was behind me, massaging my shoulders with her large, powerful, crimson-painted hands. Besides,
I had just been here two days ago, and I didn't have any great business to do. This fat woman was just spouting nonsense.

I endured the sharp pain in my shoulder blade and forced a smile, saying, "No matter how busy I am, I'm not as busy as Aunt Lucida.
I'm just here for a drink, I'll be leaving soon. Hey!" At the same time, I wondered how she knew my
name, a complete stranger.

Lucida, that old sow, seemed oblivious to the fact that her massage was strong enough to crush a dog, and continued in a coquettish tone
, "Oh dear! Why are you calling me 'Auntie'? You make me sound so old, how annoying! I'm only in my
early thirties."

Nobody believed you were in your early thirties; you looked at least fifty.

I noticed that all the guests around me—warriors, martial artists, mages, even prostitutes—were
casting me pitying glances, as if watching a tragedy about to unfold. It was then that I remembered something truly
terrible …

Three days earlier, one of my cronies from the samurai club, Hugh Kech, had warned me:
“Try to avoid Lucida’s tavern, especially young people like you, because she has a terrifying
fetish…”

He was only halfway through his sentence when his martial artist girlfriend, who was a full two heads taller than him, violently dragged him away.
I wondered what he had done wrong to deserve this punishment.

The more I thought about it, the more uneasy I became, and gradually, a terrifying thought that I shouldn’t have had surfaced in my mind.

Sure enough, Lucida, the mother elephant, whispered in my ear, "John, wouldn't you like to experience
my gentle embrace? I'll give you a silver coin afterwards, enough for you to live on for a while. You
wouldn't want to miss such a generous reward, would you?"

On the continent of "Brubro," to facilitate economic transactions, eighty years ago, the kings of the four great kingdoms
held an international conference. During this two-day, two-night meeting, they made a historic
decision : to unify the currency values and denominations of the various kingdoms on the continent.

Why do I know so much detail?

Because since the unification of the currency system, the trouble of currency conversion has been solved, and as the four great kingdoms hoped, it has promoted
the development of trade and commerce. Our Joe family's business also reached its peak in that generation, continuing until my
father's generation, when the family's prestige plummeted from heaven to hell.

All of this is what my good-for-nothing, spendthrift father talks about with great relish, seemingly still fantasizing about returning to
the past glory, using these lost family honors to encourage me to study business. Of course, I could never follow in his
footsteps .

That said, according to current law, currency values are converted in decimals. One gold coin can be exchanged for ten
silver coins , one silver coin for ten copper coins, and five copper coins are roughly the daily basic expenses for a family of four.
In other words, if I were to sell my virginity for one silver coin, it could make this bachelor happy for quite a while.

"What are you still thinking about, John? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." Lucida, that fat bitch, used
fingers almost as thick as my penis to scrape my cheek and breathed hot air into my ear.

I said in a trembling voice, slightly fearful, "Auntie's kindness... I appreciate it... but firstly,
I'm not handsome, and secondly, my health has been poor since childhood. I might fail Auntie's trust. Auntie, please find someone else
..."

Just as I was about to stand up, Lucida pressed her large breasts against the back of my neck, making me unable to move,
and at the same time reached her hand into my crotch. This terrifying action almost made me scream.

"Don't you know I love eating young virgins? How could I let a virgin like you go so easily?
Okay , let's be straightforward, two silver coins, then you might not blame me for being mean to you. Hehehe."

I had made up my mind that no amount of money would buy me my precious virginity, otherwise my penis
would never forgive me.

"Aunt Lucida, I have something to do, I have to go first..."

"Shut up!"

In an instant, she became fierce and menacing, as if she hadn't been with a man for hundreds of years. Her other large hand grabbed my
chin, forcibly turning my face to look at her fleshy face. I saw her grinning sinisterly: "Hehehe...
You can't escape my grasp today. I, Lucida, am determined to devour you, you young virgin, so accept your fate!"

Her "grassroots" began its inhumane assault on my pants, my penis was being relentlessly manipulated
up and down, almost being violently pulled out by the roots.

"Boss, save me!" I heard another brother's cry for help in my mind.

"Second brother, the boss can't even save himself, you hold on a little longer."

My face was pale, and I cried out hoarsely, "Help... me... ah..."

The guests around me pretended not to see anything, some drinking, some chatting, as if they were used to such tragedies
. No one offered me a helping hand. This is truly a cold-hearted society.

If others won't help, you have to help yourself. This is the motto of our family.

But Lucida's huge breasts, which were at least H-cup, were like two soft but heavy coconuts, tightly
clamping my head, making me unable to move like a prisoner.

This horny mother elephant, with nearly half a ton of body, was already pressing down on my back, and she
continued to thrust her hands hard without holding back: "Feels good, doesn't it, little baby? If you're good, I'll be very gentle with you."

The

rubbing sound in my crotch was like a death knell, tolling the death knell for the twenty-two-year-old virgin. Under Lucida's clutches,
my penis, skin and all, writhed and swelled, like a toy to be manipulated at will.

As she played, Lucida chuckled wickedly, "Hehe...so much fun, such a soft and bouncy little
sausage , hurry up and turn into a big meat stick so your big sister can play with it to her heart's content."

I had lost the ability to scream. Just as my little brother was about to be fucked until it bled from all seven orifices, something strange happened
. Lucida's claws, like milking a cow, gripped my penis tightly, attempting to force me into submission. And my brother, who had followed me for twenty-two years, could still maintain an erection despite such treatment—truly a disgrace to the Qiao family ancestors. I cursed inwardly, "You worthless thing, you've completely disgraced me! Get it down !" But this traitor showed no sign of sagging; instead, it stood erect, defiant and unyielding. This proved that a man's lower body is not controlled by the brain. Just as I was about to draw my sword and sever my own manhood, my savior suddenly arrived. A group of knights in light black armor, brown cloaks embroidered with an angry lion's head, and ornate longswords at their waists, rushed in as if they had caught someone in the act. Judging by their attire, they were knights from the Enforcement Division of the Knights of Nokron, responsible for maintaining city order and apprehending criminals. The glaring lion head on their cloaks symbolized the impartiality of the law and their hatred of evil. The Knights of Nokron were divided into three divisions: the Enforcement Division, the Protection Division, and the Royal Guard Division. The knights stationed at the city gates and responsible for defense wore red cloaks embroidered with roaring lion heads, symbolizing strength and courage. As for the Royal Guard knights guarding the city lord's palace, they were the highest-ranking, holding a higher status than the other two divisions. They were directly under the command of the city lord, Sid? Shat, and the Grand Master of the Knights, Ruba? Geddar . Their cloaks were black, embroidered with expressionless, cold lion heads, symbolizing composure and loyalty. Lucida and I, who were currently torturing my manhood, were both stunned. Before we knew it, we, the adulterous couple, were surrounded by seven or eight burly Enforcement Knights. Lucida's fat hand was still inside my trousers, thrusting rhythmically, seemingly unable to stop. Perhaps disturbed by these uninvited guests, Lucida grew angry. She glared fiercely at the spoilsporting knights and said in an unfriendly tone, "Gentlemen, what brings you to our humble establishment?" Her hands didn't stop moving as she spoke. I thought Lucida was tired of living; speaking to law enforcement knights like that, they could easily find a charge of insulting a government official and send her to jail, where she'd have to sleep with homosexuals for months. By this time, the other dozen or so law enforcement knights had already chased all the other customers out of the shop, surrounding in a jar. I was thus surrounded by these twenty-odd knights, treated like spectators at a play. A cavalry captain with a small medal on his right breast, his face as stern as a man who had just lost his father, began to speak: "Lucida, you are under arrest..." *Crack crack crack*... "The charge is the rape and murder of a young boy..." * Crack crack crack crack*... "What you are saying now..." *Crack crack crack crack crack*... " will be used against you in court..." *Crack crack crack crack crack crack*... "Did you hear that?!" Because the cavalry captain was constantly interrupted by the sound of flesh rubbing against flesh between my legs, his anger flared, and he roared at the end. Lucida yelled angrily in my ear, almost deafening me: "Nonsense! What do you mean by 'raping and murdering a young boy' ? Do you have any evidence? Stop making baseless accusations!" As her anger escalated, her piston-like movements became more intense. I felt the skin of my penis being rubbed raw, like a burning rod, a double rush of pain and pleasure shooting to my head. Although I knew this wasn't the time to enjoy it, the physiological changes were contradictory. As the victim, I still had no right to speak. Sometimes I really wondered if I was even the protagonist. I had to endure the pleasure emanating from my lower body while gritting my teeth to prevent any expression of ecstasy from showing. Seeing the protagonist being tortured like this, the supporting knight spoke up again: "Lucida, as a law enforcement knight, I solemnly warn you once more: release the gentleman in your hands." "The gentleman in my hands? Hahaha…" Lucida laughed wildly, as if she had heard the funniest joke in the world . I had a very ominous premonition. Sure enough, Lucida's movements accelerated instantly, rubbing her javelin-like erect penis at a rate of nearly fifty times per second. * Crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack crack… * "Ugh—ah—!" I screamed in agony. Under Lucida's uniquely aphrodisiac methods, a bunch of sperm mindlessly burst out of the last barrier of my urethra, exploding in my crotch. I don't know if it was self-ejaculation or forced out. Because of this fat bitch's torment, I set a record for the fastest ejaculation in history, one minute and twelve seconds, earning me the infamous title of "Quick Gunner" on the continent of Brubro. Cleverly enough, the twenty-odd law enforcement knights simultaneously drew their swords the instant I ejaculated, their coordination as perfect as if we had rehearsed dozens of times. The twenty-odd longswords whistled through the air as they thrust towards Lucida this rebellious mother elephant. Suddenly, I felt the pressure ease, and a fat hand covered in white fluid pulled from my pants, swiftly drawing the sword from my waistband. Then, a powerful force surged through my anus. The series of movements was so fast that I couldn't react at all, and I was kicked into the air. Just as I was about to be riddled with swords, the longsword formation suddenly parted, creating space for me to pass through and land unharmed. "Well done! The Knights are truly skilled! Superb swordsmanship, effortless control... Ouch—!" Rolling on the ground, I still couldn't resist uttering a few flattering praises. When my still-erect penis slammed into the leg of a table, it turned into a wailing scream, tears welling up in my eyes from the pain. Clang, clang, clang—the sounds of metal clashing rang out continuously. Lying on the ground, clutching my groin, enduring the excruciating pain, I gritted my teeth and watched this battle between man and beast, a spectacle usually only seen in the arena. Within the human wall, Lucida's angry curses and the shouts of the knights could be heard intermittently. Those who could be incorporated into the knightly order were all warriors with considerable martial skill. As for outstanding martial artists, they were more suited to...

They were mostly chosen to become bodyguards for nobles and dignitaries. As the name suggests, a knight without a weapon is hardly a knight. Therefore
, most martial artists recommended by the knightly guild master volunteered to become bodyguards for high-ranking officials and nobles rather than
join the knightly order.

The sight of this disciplined and methodical group of law-enforcing knights revealed
the strict selection criteria the Kingdom of Shat placed on its knights, especially
the elites . This also showed that he was a serious, old-fashioned man; otherwise, he wouldn't have trained such lifeless-faced subordinates.

"Ah—!" A sharp, terrifying scream rang out.

Lucida, who had stolen my cheap iron sword worth only four copper coins, was disheveled and looked like
a demon from hell, wildly swinging her weapon, preparing for a desperate fight. Unfortunately, she forgot that she was facing the most prized members of the Kingdom
of Shat's knightly order.

An unnamed, valiant knight swung his sword fiercely, slicing
the iron sword . He then kicked her to the ground, and several law enforcement knights pounced on her, a dozen
feet in hard leather boots kicking and punching the fleshy mass, turning it into a brawl.

In an instant, Lucida's agonizing screams and cries filled the air, as if she were about to be tortured to death.

Within minutes, Lucida's face was swollen and bruised, covered in blood, looking more like
a ghost than a human, groaning on the ground.

The knight captain coldly ordered, "Take her away!"

Seven or eight law enforcement knights hurriedly carried the heavy woman away. The platoon leader
gave me a cold glance before leaving without looking back and leading his men away.

Although the hotel was empty, a crowd of onlookers had gathered outside, preventing me from taking advantage of the situation
to loot the bar's cash register. Reluctantly, I retrieved my sword and went outside.

As expected, the people outside began pointing and whispering about my wet genitals.

An ordinary person would have wanted to dig a hole and hide. However, a down-
on-his-luck youth like me, who had been unsuccessful since childhood, was used to being looked down upon. I had traveled all the way from my village to Nokron City,
relying on begging for food. If I had been afraid of losing face, I would have starved to death long ago. What did these strange
looks matter to someone who had weathered many storms like me? It's the same old saying: life is about
living well and enjoying yourself, who cares what others think?

However, I was still a little embarrassed, so I quickly slipped through the crowd and escaped this troublesome place.

Nokron City was a large city belonging to the Kingdom of Shat, with a population of about 80,000 households. Its industry and commerce were
very developed, and prosperity was everywhere. Walking along the main street leading to the Roya Warrior Hall, weapon and armor shops,
prop shops, general stores, and bars lined both sides, signifying economic prosperity.

However, no matter how developed a place is, there will always be a backward and dark corner. Passing through this bustling
street, I turned into a dirty and chaotic alley. Several homeless people lay on the roadside, bottles and garbage piled up everywhere
, and a stench filled the air—it was practically a slum.

And the Roya Warrior's Hall, where I was currently staying, being built in such a location, was naturally
not luxurious.

After walking a few steps, several dilapidated tall buildings appeared at the end of the alley. Despite their crumbling
appearance, the interiors were surprisingly spacious. There was a training hall and competition arena that could accommodate a thousand people, two
dormitories for men and women, a canteen, a large bathhouse, a fitness center, and medical facilities—it had everything. It was the oldest
warrior's hall in Nokron City, seventy years older than me.

And the owner of the Roya Warrior's Hall, Abachiv? Roya, the first and current head of the martial arts school
, is almost a hundred years old. Everyone calls him "Old Man Who Never Dies"
behind his back .

As I walked through the old martial arts school's doors, John, the guard dog who shares my name, was squatting at
the guardhouse door, barking incessantly at me.

What an annoying dog! We share the same name, and I've been in and out of the martial arts school more than twenty times
, yet he still treats me like a stranger.

If it weren't for our shared name, I would have poisoned this stupid dog long ago.

"John, what are you yelling about?" a lazy voice came from inside the guardhouse, followed by a balding
head peeking out from the doorway.

The middle-aged man with a small mustache and a hairy black mole near his mouth saw me,
grinned, revealing a row of yellow teeth, and said, "Oh! So it's John back. No wonder John called so loudly."

"..."

"John, there's something going on at the martial arts school today. Are

n't you going to join the fun?" "Oh, what's so important? Is it another one of those martial arts tournaments where they pick dogs for rich and powerful people?"

"Go away, go away, why do you put it so harshly? It is a martial arts tournament, but today's program is a bit special.
Someone has come to challenge us." The middle-aged man gestured ambiguously to the luxurious carriage and about twenty
tall horses parked in the open space.

I immediately recognized the emblem engraved on the carriage, which read—Gailo Martial Arts School.

The martial arts school was established to promote martial arts and encourage everyone to learn martial arts. Besides the old king's fondness for martial arts
, there was actually another reason.

Eighty years ago, the currency reform did indeed bring huge profits to the commercial trade of various countries. At
that time , lured by the ease of doing business, many people changed professions, chasing the financial trend in hopes of making a quick buck.
The economy reached its peak.

However, every advantage has its disadvantage.

With the increase in merchants trading with various countries, some bandits formed gangs, specializing in robbing
caravans traveling long distances internationally. Merchants at that time didn't know how to hire bodyguards,
and were helpless against these armed bandits, leaving many bankrupt and countless committing suicide in a single day.

This alarmed the four great kingdoms, who dispatched armies
to frequently crack down on the bandits in order to protect merchants and maintain trade interests. The bandits' arrogance subsided. However, the army couldn't protect caravans 24 hours a day.
Therefore, the previous king of the Kingdom of Shat devised a solution: establishing a martial arts academy to train martial arts talents for
recruitment.

Thus, the initial martial arts academy primarily trained bodyguards for caravans, but later gradually evolved into a channel for the state
to recruit talent.

The warriors and martial artists who frequented the samurai's quarters most desired to be selected into the knightly order or to become wealthy nobles.
Both of them were promising bodyguards.

Conversely, being a caravan bodyguard was a less desirable profession these days. Traveling long distances
with caravans, enduring hardships and sometimes risking their lives, the pay was low and there was no real power.
Warriors were reluctant to take on this thankless and arduous job, but many still did,
as was better than staying cooped up in the knighthood all day, a job that would make even birds sick.

There were three knighthoods in Nokron City: besides Roya, the other two were the Gallo Knighthood and the Lando Knighthood
. The Gallo Knighthood was the wealthiest but also the most tyrannical. Many of its disciples were from wealthy
families—sons of nobles or daughters of tycoons—and they were extremely arrogant and disdainful of Roya
's poor warriors, frequently clashing with the knights in their own knighthood.

However, I've never encountered anything like this. Whenever a samurai in fine clothes asks if I'm from the Roya Samurai School
, I always deny it outright. Then, I act like a country bumpkin, asking which
brothel is cheap and which bar has the cheapest drinks. Faced with my dimwitted appearance, even the most hot-tempered samurai
will find themselves humiliated. This is one of my methods of self-preservation.

Now, those rich, dead dogs from the Gallo Samurai School have come knocking, trying to tear down Roya's old reputation. As a
typical good-for-nothing warrior, I'll naturally stand by and watch. Besides being unremarkable in appearance, my martial arts skills are utterly
unremarkable, my strength is weak, and as for speed, it takes me twenty-five seconds to sprint a hundred meters at full speed.
With this kind of strength, I'd just be easy prey in the arena. I don't want to die so soon; I'm still a
virgin those fearless guys who dream of being knights show off.

Just then, a commotion arose from the direction of the training hall. I wondered what had happened.

I waved to the guard, "Uncle, take care of yourself, I'm going to watch the show."

"John, remember to come back and tell me what happened after you're done."

I ignored his shouting and walked straight towards the training hall through the parking area. There wasn't a soul in sight;
everyone had crowded there to watch the dogfight.

The training hall was located in the center of the samurai's estate. To its left and right, about two hundred paces away, were two-story
buildings housing the men's and women's dormitories. Behind them was another building containing a canteen, a large bathroom, and a medical room.
Although the wooden buildings were old, the facilities inside were quite complete. That old geezer, Apachev, claimed to be preserving
the history and layout of the samurai's estate, but he probably already pocketed all the state subsidies for the estate. I really wondered
why he didn't go into business.

Upon entering the training hall, I was met with nothing but a sea of people. Inside the spacious training hall, six or seven hundred men, women, and children
were shouting wildly. This scene was always present whenever a martial arts tournament was held.

However, today the atmosphere was clearly even more heated than usual.

In the center of the training hall was a circular fighting arena, about one person high and twenty meters in diameter, its surface
paved with neat stone slabs. There were steps leading up to the arena on both the east and west sides. The arena was surrounded
by crowds cheering for the warriors on stage. From my observation, everyone's expression seemed to thrive on chaos, as if they had all placed
heavy bets on the competitors.

Most of the people in the arena were disciples of the Roya Martial Arts School, with only a few dressed in more ornate yellow uniforms. I could immediately
recognize as the hypocrites from the Gallo Martial Arts School; only their school would wear such fine yellow uniforms, seemingly to signify their superior status. They all wore disdainful expressions and slight sneers as they watched the six warriors fighting
on the arena . In contrast, some of the members of the Roya Warriors were dressed in shabby clothes, looking like beggars. Compared to Gallo and his group, it was like the difference between commoners and nobles. It turned out this was a three-on-three match. Our side consisted of warriors dressed in blue robes, each wielding a greatsword , a giant axe, and a spear. As for Gallo and his gang, they sent out a martial artist who was unarmed but had brass knuckles attached to his wrists, who fought alongside two other warriors with a shield and a hammer. Just then, someone emerged from the crowd, put his arm around my shoulder, and chuckled, "My little John, you're finally here! We just lost a match, you know?" I hate being called Little John. In my mind, any name containing the word "little" carries a strong insult. Being called Little John felt like being called a little bastard, a little bitch, a little scumbag, and other such vulgar nicknames. I slapped the guy with my arm around his shoulder, making him yell in pain, like a hemorrhoid had burst. "Call me 'Little John' again, and I'll kill you. You little brat, how dare those scumbags like Gallo come to our hideout today? Did you rape their master's daughter, and now they're coming after us?" I grabbed the guy's collar and shook him hard a few times. This brat was my best friend—Shookich, a third-rate martial artist whose parents died of malaria . He was short, a head shorter than me at 1.7 meters, with a shifty, beady face. His triangular eyes darted around, giving him a cunning look. Overall, he looked like a little mouse. He only knew a few rudimentary moves before trying to make a living, which was somewhat similar to my situation. So when we met, it was like we'd known each other for centuries, instantly finding common ground and hitting it off. "How could I possibly dare to rape someone's daughter? My tigress at home is so strict; I don't even have a chance to go out to prostitutes or drink." Hugh Kech looked aggrieved, his face gaunt and sallow, his eyes sunken. He must have been nearly exhausted to death last night by Alice, that strong, tall, and more masculine woman who was also his lover and wife . Hugh Kech brushed my hand away, chuckling, "Our representative from the Roya Warriors' Hall lost to Gallo in the first match. The old man isn't in a good mood right now." He acted as if it were none of his business. Only such selfish friends could be on my side. In a match between warriors' halls like this, the loser loses face . Warriors especially value honor, and being beaten to their knees and begging for mercy in front of a hundred people is worse than death. I then noticed a temporary VIP platform in the hall and glanced at it casually. Sure enough, the nearly 100-year-old but still ruddy-faced and robust old master of the martial arts hall was staring coldly at the battle on the ring with a tense, constipated expression. He sat in a large brass chair with a backrest, with the master and deputy standing beside him.

Behind the martial arts master stood a dozen or so of his prized disciples.

To the old man's right, there was also a large brass chair, upon which sat a
thin, elderly man in fine clothes, stroking his white beard with a smile, watching the warriors fighting to the death on the stage as if he were watching a striptease
.

Behind him stood warriors and martial artists in yellow robes and armor, the most striking of whom was a
voluptuous female warrior with a long sword at her waist.

Her beautiful, flowing golden hair cascaded down like a waterfall, her skin was snow-white, her face was cold and beautiful, and her full, slightly upturned
lips seemed to speak of her stubbornness and pride. Under the thin, belted yellow robe, her proud breasts
stood out as if they were not afraid of being taken advantage of. A long strip of cloth hung from her waistband, exposing her two long, powerful legs,
the slightly visible but aesthetically pleasing muscle lines clearly the result of long-term training. This blonde beauty
looked like a shimmering, scantily clad, sexy goddess; I almost had a nosebleed from looking at her.

"John...John..."

"What are you doing? Don't disturb my enjoyment of the scenery..."

Before I could react, amidst the gasps of the crowd, a sound of bones breaking and flesh shattering came from the arena.
Immediately afterward , a massive body appeared above my head, a dark shadow looming over me.

I looked up, and good heavens! A warrior weighing at least two hundred pounds was flying towards me.
I quickly rolled aside.

A loud thud.

Where I had been standing, lay a warrior, his face covered in blood, a clear fist mark on his cheek, his nose
mangled . The wooden floor of the training hall was slightly dented from the impact. If I hadn't dodged quickly,
I would have been crushed into pieces.

It turned out to be a warrior from our Roya Martial Arts School, blasted down by a single punch from the opposing martial artist.

The remaining two warriors were still fighting desperately on the stage, but it was only a three-on-two situation, and the tide had
turned completely against .

The two Gallo warriors were restraining the Roya warrior's weapon, allowing the martial artist to fully utilize
his strengths: agility, speed, and tricky attack angles. After all, punching was far more
nimble than wielding heavy weapons. Before long, another Roya warrior was struck in the jaw and sent flying, while another was kicked down,
rolling off the stage like a gourd, utterly humiliated.

Seeing their own martial arts school's members defeated in such a humiliating manner sparked outrage among the crowd, and instantly,
shouts of "Fuck you!" filled the training hall.

"Fuck your mother! You dogs, are you looking down on us?!"

"Fuck your mother, you bunch of Gallo dogs, are you out of your minds, daring to act so arrogantly here?"

"Fuck your mother!" This was the most direct.

The Roya warriors' curses overwhelmed the cheers of the Gallo warriors.

As warriors, we're supposed to be rough around the edges. Gentlemanly manners are irrelevant to us; swearing
is commonplace. However, when I saw several men, grieving as if their mothers had died, dramatically cursing and crying
—grown men sobbing like this—I knew these gambling addicts had placed heavy bets on their own warriors.

At this moment, several agitated spectators jumped onto the stage, ready to give the three arrogant
Gallo warriors . Just as the chaos reached its peak and a riot seemed imminent, the old

man, the master of the Roya Warriors, stood
up. This nearly two-meter-tall giant old man, upon standing, made those around him seem to shrink, appearing shorter. He stood straight, his posture imposing, showing none of the signs of old age. His ruddy, square face was stern, his short, silver beard twitching slightly, his large, bell-like eyes radiating power without anger. He raised his right arm, thicker than an average person's, clenched his fist, and held it in the air. The movement was incredibly slow, yet it created an invisible, oppressive pressure. His red cloak billowed without wind, and his entire body radiated an aura of dominance. Under the influence of this pressure, the face of the Gallo Warriors' Guild Master, seated to his right, tightened, and a strange light flashed in his eyes. The expressions of his followers behind him changed drastically, seemingly shaken by the old man's sudden appearance, while the blonde beauty only trembled slightly, highlighting her cultivation level, second only to their guild master. Although I'm not an outstanding warrior, my good-for-nothing father painstakingly cultivated me from a young age, instilling business knowledge in me day and night My basic knowledge of judging the quality of goods is passable, and I even possess superior eyesight, which becomes my weapon for spying. Perhaps this is the only blessing . I think the only thing I can be proud of is this ability to observe; everything else is utterly worthless. The enormous old man took a deep breath, puffed out his broad chest, and wore a sullen expression as if he was about to urinate or defecate. Seeing his expression, I already knew what foolish thing he was about to do, so I quickly covered my ears. Sure enough, the old geezer roared , "Shut up—!" The damned old man's words were like a tiger's roar in the mountains, a deep and powerful roar that, like a suddenly rising giant wave, instantly drowned out the noise of the crowd, striking everyone's hearts heavily. The impact of the violent sound waves seemed to shake the space of the martial arts hall. If I hadn't covered my ears in time, I might have ended up like Hugh Kitsch , with crooked eyes and a slightly twitching mouth, almost turning into a senile old man who had just been sodomized. The old geezer's astonishing roar was the first time I had seen him display the internal power of a lion's roar. As a warrior, he also knew how to use the qi of martial arts. I wasn't surprised by his inner and outer cultivation. To be the head of a martial arts school, one must possess superhuman strength; otherwise, how could he control these unruly martial artists? I once heard the older generation of the martial arts school say that whether one becomes a warrior or a martial artist, these two diverging paths of martial begin differently, but in the end, they find their destinations are the same. However , my choice to be a warrior wasn't to reach the pinnacle of martial arts, but to escape the world of business. So, such boring achievements as martial arts giants, like business, hold no appeal for me. Everyone stared in astonishment at the enormous old man. The previously noisy martial arts practice fell silent in an instant. The head of the Roya Martial Arts School, Apachiv, stood like an unyielding mountain, surveying the crowd below with an imposing and arrogant air, and solemnly declared: "Defeat is defeat, victory is victory. Where has the spirit of a martial artist gone? What kind of decorum is this, this chaotic scene!"

A powerful voice echoed throughout the vast training hall, each word clearly reaching everyone's ears.
Although Apachev was scolding the martial arts school's disciples, his earlier outburst had a hidden meaning: establishing his authority and subtly
suppressing the arrogance of the Gallo Martial Arts School after two consecutive victories. He had only resorted to shouting and yelling
to save face because of his disciples' incompetence; being the school leader wasn't so easy.

However, intimidated by the school leader's imposing presence, those who had already rushed onto the stage now
shrugged and , looking resentful.

These Gallo Martial Arts School dogs, who had been surrounded by our group of irrational thugs and terrified
, now wore smug, mocking expressions, oblivious to the fact that without the old man's intervention,
hundreds upon hundreds would have already died on our turf. If the Gallo Warriors were the most domineering,
then our Roya Warriors were the most despicable and vile. These madmen, when they went berserk, were more
terrifying than any desperate criminal.

I felt the temperature around me gradually rise—a furnace effect caused by everyone's anger flaring simultaneously.

At this moment, the Gallo Warriors' leader also stood up. Compared to the old immortal, he was like an
old monkey standing in front of a bronze tower; the difference in height was enormous, creating a bizarre scene on the VIP platform.

This Gallo Warriors' leader was dressed very elegantly, wearing a dazzling golden-yellow outfit underneath a long black silk robe,
and expensive rings on his hands. Overall, he looked like a richly dressed old monkey.

Everyone stared intently at this little old man, waiting to see what nonsense he had to spout.

The old monkey, with a sly smile, greeted the old man's clasped hands and bowed. "Brother Luo Ya," he said, "this martial arts competition
is merely to give the young men some experience. Consider today's match
a warm-up for the city martial arts tournament a month from now. Let's just spar a bit; there's no need to take it too seriously."

After some mental translation, I think his true meaning was: "You stubborn
old man , we, the Gai Luo, are only here to challenge you for the city tournament a month from now. We're just here to beat up these trash
and boost our men's confidence and experience. There's no need to take it too seriously; we can easily kill you bunch of idiots
."

The old man coughed and returned the greeting with clasped hands, saying, "Brother Qi Yu, you're too kind. However, as a
martial artist, whether it's a small competition or a large-scale battle, one should always approach it with the spirit of a lion hunting a rabbit.
Because practicing martial arts is like going against the current... " "If you approach martial arts with a contemptuous attitude, you will never glimpse the ultimate realm of martial arts
, and it will be an insult to martial arts."

After my brain's annotation and interpretation, the original meaning should be: "You ignorant old monkey, you
look down on people, you win a few rounds and you're already showing off, just wait and see if I can beat you until you're pissing your ass, and let you
see the ultimate realm of my martial arts."

The old monkey chuckled and said: "Brother Gaia is right, I have learned my lesson."

Translation: "I curse your ancestors for eighteen generations, how dare you lecture me."

The old geezer said modestly: "Brother Qi Yu is too kind."

Translation: "You cunning bastard, don't give me that."

In this way, the two old men exchanged polite and modest words in front of everyone in the hall, which was actually a verbal battle,
and then spent a full ten minutes showing the demeanor of the head of the school before they returned to their seats.

At this moment, the old man's proud right hand, the martial arts master Eisenhower, raised his voice and shouted to
the crowd : "Today's martial arts match between Roja and Gallo will be a five-match best-of-five series. Gallo has won two, Roja has lost two
. Who else wishes to step forward and challenge?"

Before his words had even faded, chaos erupted in the arena. These strong but brainless guys scrambled to raise their hands,
frantically vying to fight and vent their anger.

Just as everyone was in a frenzy, a loud shout suddenly came from the other side of the crowd, drowning out everyone else
's voices.

"Free Fighting Club! Alice challenges!"

Hugh Kech and I were startled and looked in the direction of the sound.

We saw a commotion on the right side of the crowd, and a path to the ring parted like a tidal wave, allowing a
burly , muscular martial artist to stride through. If my eyes weren't deceiving me, wasn't that Hugh Kech's
girlfriend and casual sex partner, Alice?

I've always been puzzled. Alice has such a feminine name, yet no one can
find .

Alice strutted confidently toward the ring, chest puffed out, exuding an air of superiority. She was bald, square-faced, with large
eyes, thick lips, a lion's nose, dark skin, and a strong, muscular physique. She wore a leopard-print tight-fitting t-shirt and shorts,
her arms and thighs covered in scars that accentuated her explosive muscles and highlighted her
battle-hardened experience. As for her breasts, which should be typical of a woman, they had long been developed into two solid, muscular chests, capable of crushing
someone stomach, exposed beneath her t-shirt, displayed eight neatly arranged square abdominal muscles.

In contrast, I was all soft and flabby, with three layers of fat bulging out of my stomach when I bent over—
the physique , which was truly unpleasant. My physical fitness is even worse. I was panting and my legs were weak after running only two hundred meters. I was
truly ashamed of my soldier status. Perhaps it was due to excessive masturbation and kidney deficiency. It seems I need to be more disciplined in the future
. It would be best to establish a regular masturbation schedule and masturbate according to the set times.

I said to Hugh Kech beside me, "Look at your girl, what a sight for her!
She's more like a man than a man. Just her arm is thicker than my thigh. This kind of fierce woman is like a female King Kong,
scaring people out of the jungle."

Hugh Kech ignored my sarcasm and instead showed a smug look, saying proudly, "As my girl, of course she
can't be bad. I have full confidence in her. Just wait and see the show."

Looking at his smug face, I suddenly felt nauseous. The milk and bread I ate this morning almost
went straight up my esophagus and came out of my mouth.

Although Hugh Kech was useless in every way, I had to admire his good appetite and lack of pickiness.
Perhaps his mother taught him from a young age not to be a picky eater and to eat whatever he could.

Also, I'm quite envious that he has a girlfriend who's more manly than most men; it's truly
a blessing ancestors. My ancestors didn't leave me such good fortune.

The disciples of the Roya Warriors' Hall, regardless of age or gender, suddenly roared like wild beasts. Whistles, shouts, and
screams echoed throughout the arena, creating a grand and spectacular scene. Someone next to me started patting Hugh Keich on the shoulder, cheering him on for his
girlfriend appearance; it seemed even Hugh Keich was getting some of the credit.

The burly Alice, still ten paces from the ring, suddenly bent her leg and launched herself towards
the ring like a cannonball. She tumbled several times in the air before landing firmly in the center,
skipping even the steps of climbing the ladder.

"Damn, is she even human?"

The clamor subsided, everyone waiting quietly like a devoted spectator for the show to begin.

The three Gallo warriors in the ring, as if encountering a monster, couldn't hide their astonishment, scrutinizing
the suddenly appearing female martial artist.

Alice raised her chin, looking down disdainfully at her three opponents. She slowly raised her arm, extended her index finger, and pointed disdainfully
at the two Gallo warriors on the ring, then pointed outwards, indicating they should get off the ring. Then
she pointed the Gallo martial artist, clearly indicating she wanted a one-on-one duel.

This action caused another wave of roars from the crowd below, who seemed eager for chaos
.

Alice is one of the top martial artists in our gym. She's so strong
she can shatter large rocks with her bare hands, and the number of men crippled by her attacks can be counted in the hundreds.
You'd be even more astonished if you saw her running and practicing every day with a 50-kilogram iron bag on her back. As for how she ended up with that good-for-nothing Hulk,
nobody knows the reason; everyone just considers it a tragic fate.

Because of Alice's demands, and because three against one is unfair, under our screams of "Get off the stage!",
two Galo warriors reluctantly left the stage, leaving behind only one martial artist with a headband, a small mustache, a strong and muscular
build , and an air of agility.

The mustachioed man, left alone on the platform, peered lecherously at Alice's body, his gaze finally
settling on her tight shorts with a few hairs sticking out. He grinned lewdly, a suggestive smile playing on his lips, and said, "So you're a
strong little slut. Want to fight me one-on-one? Then let me give you a good thrashing, little darling."

A strong little slut?

Just based on that one sentence, this perverted martial artist, whose appetite was as voracious as Hugh Kitsch's, was destined for a brutal
end.

With the old man's approval, a martial artist versus martial artist duel immediately began.

Several gamblers nearby secretly placed bets, determined to win back their losses.

The mustachioed man shouted, ducked, and launched a preemptive strike at Alice, who stood fifteen paces away. His
speed revealed him to be an outstanding martial artist; the Gero Warriors' Gym must have come prepared.
Unfortunately for him, her opponent was the Mighty Queen, who had dominated Nokron City with her iron fists.

Just as the man with the mustache was about to enter Alice's range, he feinted, shifting to his right and
throwing a punch at Alice's waist with his right hand, which was clad in brass knuckles. Perhaps he was taking advantage of Alice's large and clumsy frame, hoping to win through
speed .

The Gallo warriors below cheered loudly at their comrade's excellent performance. We, the Roya
bastards gasped in surprise, clearly astonished by the man with the mustache's agility.

At this critical moment, a roar erupted from Alice's mouth.

"Ha!"

The man with the mustache was jolted by the roar, his movements momentarily halted.

Alice imitated Appaqif's lion's roar, using only about 30-40% of her power, but it still had
a shocking effect .

In the instant he was stunned, a large hand firmly grasped the man with the mustache's fist, forcefully intercepting the tricky, angled
strike. A

look of panic crossed the man with the mustache's face, like someone who had meticulously planned to steal underwear but was caught
red-handed by the mistress. Driven by his well-trained reflexes, he swiftly tried to pull his hand away, but
his gripped fist was like a rock wall, completely immobile.

Alice gave an ugly smile, watching her struggling prey with
the air of a cat toying with a mouse, which made the audience roar and shout excitedly, keeping them on the edge of their seats.

Having one's hands and feet restrained is a major taboo for martial artists; the opponent was now in danger.

The man with the mustache suddenly raised his leg, aiming for Alice's lower abdomen with a sneaky knee strike, attempting to turn the tide.

Alice scoffed, "A mere trick!"

With a snap, his despicable foot was firmly grasped by Alice's other hand. The man with the mustache's hand and foot were thus
held in the grasp of this leopard-skinned female warrior, and Alice, with her brute strength, deliberately pulled them apart, spreading them out
in a starfish shape like a ballerina.

Seeing the pathetic state of the martial artist, Gallo, the warriors of Roya burst into laughter.

Just as I thought she was about to tear the mustachioed man apart and began to pray for this fragile life, Alice suddenly roared, her muscles bulging, the sound of bones cracking echoing throughout the arena. The man's limbs were mercilessly crushed
by her monstrous strength. "Ouch—! It hurts—" the mustachioed man cried out in pain. Just as his face was contorted like a broken puzzle piece, Alice's massive arm tossed him into the air. "Go to hell, you damn dog! How dare you come to Roya and peep at me like that! Today I'll smash your balls!" Every magician chants a long incantation before unleashing their ultimate spell, before casting its destructive power . Alice shared the same twisted fetish; before cruelly eliminating someone, she habitually listed their ten worst sins, ensuring her opponent died with a sense of satisfaction. "Yada da da da da da da da da!" This powerful woman, three parts human and seven parts Vajra, unleashed a barrage of punches, sweeping through the air . Damn! Isn't this the kind of scene you only see in comics? The mustachioed man's body trembled in mid-air like a toy, each punch landing squarely , the cracking of bones echoing loudly. "Game over!" Alice roared. The final punch struck the mustachioed man's groin, a strange explosion rang out, and then blood splattered everywhere. As the men present felt a sharp pain in their groins, the mustachioed man's mangled body flew , crashing back into the crowd of Gallo's men. Thud! The mustachioed martial artist lay limply on the floor outside the ring, his body contorted like a boneless octopus, his fate unknown. The training hall fell silent. After a long while, the Roya warriors erupted in cheers. "Alice! I love you to death!"

"You're fucking strong and awesome! Smash that bastard Gallo's balls, make sure they're all childless!"

"The fiercest woman in Nokron City! One strike and the world is over!"

A barrage of vulgar praise and titles poured out from the mouths of these rude martial artists. Many of them ran
over and patted Hugh Kech on the shoulder, saying he'd found a great lover, making him laugh like an idiot,
as if all the credit was his.

On the VIP platform, Gallo, the head of the guild, suddenly stood up, his face full of anger.

Next to him, Apachev remained calmly seated in his bronze chair, stroking his short silver beard, a smug smile on his face. The old man
said something to the old monkey, and then burst into another round of smug laughter.

The deep and calculating Qi Yu, the head of the guild, was also so angry that his old face shifted between light and dark several times before he slowly
sat back , his expression extremely ugly. As for his disciples behind him, they were all gritting their teeth, their eyes seemingly spitting fire
. My gaze fell once more on the sexy blonde warrior's body beside him. She leaned forward, seemingly
ready to challenge him, but the old monkey stopped her.

Meanwhile, Alice, victorious, was swept off the stage by cheers. As she passed through the crowd, everyone
groped and grabbed at her, curiously touching this terrifying female fighter. Some even deliberately grabbed her
breasts , feeling her chest muscles that had transformed from tofu into steel. Alice, however, no longer considered herself a woman, showing no
shame whatsoever for being molested. She even boldly raised her hands, chest puffed out, and walked forward, letting people touch the muscles that bulged on her body.

"Hey, I'm going to find my wife. You figure it out yourself," Hugh Kitsch said hastily, and
chased after the inhumanly fierce woman.

Damn it, this lecherous scoundrel who forgets his friends for a pretty face, he's probably going to fawn over Alice.

In Chapter 4

, lying in bed, I recalled today's martial arts tournament. After Alice beat that mustachioed guy to a pulp,
the Gallo Martial Arts School sent their top warriors to the ring, but our Roya Martial Arts School still managed a narrow victory, bringing the score to two
wins and two losses for each side. The fifth duel was canceled by the two old guys through an agreement, clearly to
save , as neither of them was guaranteed a win. Moreover, to conserve their strength for the City Martial Arts Tournament a month later, the tournament
ended so hastily, leaving everyone feeling disappointed.

It was now late at night, and everyone in the martial arts school was asleep. The dormitory was eerily quiet,
save for the occasional noisy barking of John, the dog at the school's main entrance.

I lay on a small bed in a cramped two-person dormitory. My roommate and best friend, Hugh
Kitsch , was snoring loudly, sleeping like a log, impossible to wake even if the sky fell.

And I, John Joe, one of the parasites inhabiting the Royal Warrior's Guild, have been lying in bed for a long time but
unable to fall asleep. It's not because I have insomnia, nor because I have a habit of staying up late, but because at this very moment, a naked, sexy blonde woman is straddling me with her legs spread open, rocking me like a rocking horse. It's none other than the sexy and aloof female warrior next to
Master Gallo . "Brother John, harder, oh... oh... you're so strong... again... ah..." The blonde woman straddles me, one jade arm gripping the wall, the other hand on my chest, wildly shaking her youthful and energetic full body. Her pair of D-cup snow-white breasts sway rhythmically up and down in mid-air, her two pink nipples pointing out, bright peach-red, like two cherries dripping with honey, making one want to suck them. Unfortunately, I am currently pinned down by her, unable to get up, my hard, steel-like thick penis being wildly sucked up and down by her fluffy, golden peach-like hole. Perhaps it was due to her regular exercise, but her body was full of vibrant elasticity. I gripped her waist, which had no excess fat, and thrust my hips wildly, making her moan repeatedly. I yelled, "You little golden wildcat, you're so fucking insatiable! Watch John, the number one warrior of the Roya Martial Arts School, fuck you to death, you Gallo slut!" My twenty-centimeter-long spear thrust upwards, and under the fierce attack, the walls of the blonde beauty's tender vagina oozed sticky, lustful fluid, moistening my penis that was about to spark, making the squelching sounds even more intense. The small bed creaked and groaned as we shook it, and the beauty's moans grew louder, almost echoing throughout the entire dormitory. The sounds of lust shattered the tranquility of the night, but not a single person got up to visit my room. As I fucked her, I yelled, "Scream again! Scream louder! Tell me! What's your name? How dare you cause trouble on our turf!" The blonde beauty trembled violently from my intense thrusts, her hair disheveled, her pretty face flushed, her phoenix eyes gleaming with seductive light, her expression complex, almost bringing tears to her eyes. She bit her full, red lips tightly, humming a bittersweet melody intermittently. "Still not talking! If you don't talk, I'll fuck you to death, you filthy bitch!" I thrust my hips forward forcefully, pounding upwards once more. She cried out, "I... my name is Yishan... ah... it hurts... I came here... oh... to be fucked by... Brother John..." I slapped her plump buttocks hard, leaving a clear red handprint on her large, firm backside, causing the beauty on top of me to cry out again, and then shouted, "Why did you come here to be fucked by me? Tell me! Are you such a slut that you need to be fucked ? I'll fuck you! I'll fuck you! I'll fuck you, ... The blonde beauty wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her voluptuous, sweat-drenched body against me. Her large, sticky breasts rubbed against my strong chest, and she moaned softly in my ear, "Ah...ah... because...I just...suck...ah...I can't take it anymore...I'm dying...ah...John... brother...I love you..." "Don't think you can treat men like they're nothing just because you're pretty. Look! Now I've fucked you like a slut. You always act all high and mighty, but deep down you're a whore, hahaha..." I laughed triumphantly on the bed, thrusting into her like a toy, making her bounce up and down, her breasts swaying in front of me. "John...please have mercy...ah...I'm such a slut...I won't...do it again...ah..." The beauty on top of me began to beg for mercy, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed and cried. The blonde beauty's secret place was flowing with wet, sticky fluid, which soaked a large area beneath me.

I felt a surge of heat rising from below, shooting straight to the head

of my penis. I lifted the beauty up, wrapping my arms around her waist, and placed her against the wall, her legs hooked around my waist. I clenched my
hips and thrust upwards again and again, as if trying to penetrate her tightly closed vulva, stubbornly holding back
the ejaculation that was about to burst forth. Her body floated up and down, enjoying the pleasure I bestowed upon her in mid-air. The
beauty frantically clawed and waved her hands at the wall behind her, dancing her limbs as if trying to grab onto something for support, moaning and groaning.

I buried my head in her sweaty, large breasts and hissed, "I can't take it anymore..."

A gush of semen burst from my glans, exploding inside her vagina. We trembled as if electrocuted, streams of
semen shooting into her honeyed depths, a tingling pleasure shooting straight to my brain, vibrating through my very soul
. Streams of semen were gushed out, then flowed out of her vagina again.

I let out a satisfied sigh.

I'd been having sex with the blonde beauty for so long, our intense passion almost destroying the martial arts dorm, but why
was Hugh Kitsch sleeping like a log on the other single bed? And the dorm guards on duty never even
checked .

Doesn't that seem incredible to you readers?

Because…

all of the above is pure fantasy…

just my sexual fantasies…

The blonde beauty isn't named Yi Shan, I don't have a ten-pack, and my erection is only eight centimeters. It's all
just something to fill the gaps in my sexual fantasies.

Looking at my penis, held in my hand under the covers, I felt dejected, all
the vigor I'd displayed during masturbation gone. Lost in the moment, I'd sprayed a pool of cloudy white fluid all over the blanket; I was going to get yelled at by the old woman washing
the sheets .

I'm a very forgetful person; the memory of being hand-raped at the Lucida Hotel this morning was completely forgotten. Ever since
I saw that blonde Gallup warrior beauty in the martial arts training room, she's left a beautiful yet lewd image in my mind.
Whenever I recall her alluring, fiery body, it ignites a burning desire within me. I can only use her as a sexual fantasy object,
releasing my pent-up urges through masturbation.

Of course, all of this is done under the covers. If Hugh Kee accidentally sees me, he'll
laugh , calling me a hopeless virgin, forcing me to masturbate quietly in my room—what a pain!
Aren't virgins human?

I quickly cleaned up the mess on the sheets, tidied myself up haphazardly, and went to sleep.

However, even after masturbating, the image of that blonde beauty still lingered in my mind.
I lay on lost in thought for a while, before finally drifting off to sleep.

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