Chapter 3792 — Unable to Speak
The Blossom Guardian · Page 2 of 3
Even as the Long-Suffering Senior Brother was speaking, Qiao Hongcai, having sent Meng Zhou flying with a single palm strike, was on the stage. Though his face was even paler than before, he still held himself upright and shuffled step by step toward Meng Zhou. A wave of gasps rose from the crowd below.
"Junior Brother Qiao—what is he... what is he planning?" The Long-Suffering Senior Brother was momentarily dumbfounded. He had a vague guess as to what Qiao Hongcai meant to do, but for a moment he could not bring himself to believe it. Did this fellow really have such boldness and such ruthlessness?
"When you root out evil, root it out completely. Since they never intended to leave Hongcai alive, there is naturally no need for us to show them any mercy. He who hesitates is undone by his own hesitation. Against an enemy like this, when it is time to stomp, you stomp—stomp until he is dead. You understand this principle, Senior Brother Ku, do you not?" Wei Zhao said calmly. Before, it had been precisely because Wei Zhao could not bring himself to be ruthless that he had left Kang Jingming as a hidden danger. Now Wei Zhao had matured considerably and naturally come to understand many things.
"I understand. Of course I understand." The Long-Suffering Senior Brother nodded again and again. How could he not understand this principle? It was just that he had always been the one being stomped on—when had he ever held such initiative in his hands?
Just as Meng Jueming had schemed to have Meng Zhou kill Qiao Hongcai in order to strike at Wei Zhao, by the same logic, if Qiao Hongcai could succeed in killing Meng Zhou today, the blow to Meng Jueming would be just as heavy!
Do not forget: Meng Zhou was, to this day, the only newcomer Meng Jueming had championed. If even he met his end at someone else's hands, then the other newcomers of Qingyun Pavilion could simply be written off. By then, there would likely be no need for Wei Zhao to beckon—they would defect and come over of their own accord.
As the several of them spoke, Qiao Hongcai, under the gaze of all present, had already walked step by step up to Meng Zhou. Then he raised his palm with one hand, his killing intent sharp and fierce.
Looking at Qiao Hongcai looming over him with that murderous, demonic look, Meng Zhou was scared shitless on the spot. Oh no, this was not right! Today was supposed to be about easily stomping the other man to death—how had it suddenly come to this?
I am the fish, he is the knife and the cutting board—how had their positions been completely reversed in the blink of an eye?
And yet, having just taken a solid blow of the Iron Cold Palm, Twenty-One Forms, Meng Zhou was now in a state of near-death and grave injury. Holding on to that single thread of life was already all he could manage. Never mind moving—even opening his mouth to speak was a luxury.
In his present state, if Qiao Hongcai were to finish him off with a killing blow, Meng Zhou could not dodge at all, nor could he even open his mouth to surrender. He could only lie there on the ground in that utterly twisted posture, waiting to die.
At this very moment, it was not only Meng Zhou, the man himself, who had wet himself in fright; below the stage, Meng Jueming was equally terrified. If Qiao Hongcai truly succeeded, then it would not just be Meng Zhou who died—Meng Jueming would suffer a crushing loss as well!
However, according to the rules of the newcomer challenge tournament, apart from the two fighters on stage voluntarily speaking up to concede, no one else could interfere. In other words, unless Meng Zhou himself offered to surrender, even Meng Jueming, the senior brother in charge, could not save him. He could only watch helplessly as Meng Zhou was beaten to death.
Meng Zhou would have liked to surrender, but the most fatal problem just now was that he simply could not open his mouth!