Mech: Shattering of the Galaxy-Chapter 163 - 73 Master Robber Mu Fan (Congratulations to Alliance Hierarch, I Don’t Want It)

Interesting.

The three of them watched as Mu Fan actually took a defensive stance; it seemed the kid wouldn’t shed a tear until he saw his own coffin.

They sneered as they took attacking stances, forming a triangular encirclement.

The shortest one surged forward, delivering a fierce kick straight towards the knee.

Just a punching bag, huh?

Mu Fan’s right leg twisted, his lower leg’s belly facing the kick, unflinching and unyielding.

The short one’s kick was powerful and vicious; at the last moment, his toes switched from inward to outward.

The force of the kick doubled instantly.

That was his sneaky killer move, lacking height and reach, he compensated well with his leg technique.

Tiny Needle Kick!

Humph, Mu Fan’s upper body remained stable, taking the blow head-on.

What now?

The other two, seeing that the short one had kicked his target square, couldn’t help but rejoice; however, they quickly realized that he hadn’t retracted his leg for a second attack.

His own kick had hit the man’s shin, yet he hadn’t even taken half a step back!

Impossible!

A level 17 kick power, nearly 4000 kg of force, all concentrated at one point—if one didn’t retreat after such an attack, there was only one possible outcome: a fracture!

But...

His toes hadn’t even touched the bone; the tight muscle tissue of the leg firmly blocked his toes.

What was he going to do!

Suddenly, Mu Fan’s lower leg twisted and he forcefully flicked the leg away.

Thud!

His right leg stomped the ground again.

The short one’s strike proved fruitless, and everyone could see it now.

A tough nut to crack!

The three exchanged glances and suddenly launched a joint attack.

Thunderclap Hammer Strike!

Bubu Fist!

Shattering Muscle Kick!

The square-faced candidate’s momentum was most staggering; his arms swung hammers, even carrying the sound of wind and thunder as they smashed down.

Elbows toward each other, Mu Fan leaned forward, charging head-on into the blow!

No one saw his elbows compressing the bones at the front; instead, the hardest part of his elbow aimed at the heavy punches smashing down.

In that moment, Mu Fan held nothing back, better to break one of his opponent’s fingers than to injure all ten.

He finally executed the Advanced Attack Skill of Half Arm Guard—

Elbow Strike!

The Thunderclap Hammer Strike harshly hit Mu Fan’s solid elbow.

The opponent didn’t even realize at first, thanks to Mu Fan’s slight angle adjustment and quicker change-up, none present had noticed.

Crack!

Both hands only felt a severe strike against an incredibly hard metal tripod, excruciating pain hit, and then both hands instantly lost sensation.

At the same time, the remaining two struck Mu Fan’s body with a punch and a kick.

His left arm on the side not being attacked, Mu Fan grunted.

Both blows fully absorbed.

Only then did the two teammates notice the pain of the square-faced.

"Eugene, what happened?"

"Ah, hiss, my hands!"

When the two saw the now limp, twisted hanging hands, chills ran down their spines.

Their strongest, Eugene, had been crippled by a single strike.

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How could this be?

Without a sound, Mu Fan’s right arm bent and raised again.

The two, one tall and one short, exchanged a glance, simultaneously pulling out daggers from behind.

Seeing this move, Mu Fan quickly drew a dagger from behind his waist; Dark Breath silently activated, his mind as still as ancient well water.

Now, every move of the three before him was reflected in his mind.

Daring to snatch my meat, unforgivable!

Mu Fan’s eyes were filled with stark coldness.

This time knives were involved, meaning the injuries wouldn’t just be minor; implying that in this fierce fight, the loser might lose the qualification to compete forever.

Only fifty more to go, within a stone’s throw!

Up!

The two moved simultaneously in a tacit attack.

Too slow...

Mu Fan judged internally, feeling no threat from their explosive power, endurance, or strength.

Under the enhanced vision of Dark Breath, their movements were slowed down significantly.

Mu Fan’s right arm suddenly rose and then spun into a downward stab.

Stab, withdraw.

Amid shifting forms, he struck again.

Ah!

As the figures mismatched, both men had bloody wounds on their right hands.

With that strike, Mu Fan had pierced through the palms of both men.

Now in pain, the two trembled while holding their hands.

"You, you, you!"

"What about you? The three of you, go back and sit down." With a flourish of his knife, the black dagger vanished from his hand as Mu Fan casually pointed them back in the direction they came from.

The three supported each other as they walked back, their journey seemingly cut short.

"Wait." The trio shuddered—what now?

"Who is this Young Master Zhang in your mouths?" Mu Fan asked a key question, recalling a murmured phrase from the three before they made their move; light as it was, he had caught it.

The three looked at each other, none willing to speak.

Mu Fan’s eyelids slightly lifted as he looked towards the most robust among them, "You, talk."

His head shook like a rattle drum. This candidate named Eugene now had both hands incapacitated; he urgently needed treatment in a Biological Repair Chamber.

Seeing Mu Fan, who nonchalantly incapacitated them, filled him with real fear.

His eyes shifted towards his hanging hands while Mu Fan clenched his fist.

"I’ll speak!"

"It’s Zhang Yuanren. Before the match, he paid us a hefty sum to help him. The task he assigned us when we entered the secret base was to collect this backpack."

"Who is Zhang Yuanren?"

"We only know he comes from a wealthy family, he told us his name was Zhang Yuanren, nothing else. That money could greatly improve our family’s living situation," Eugene said pitifully.

It seemed they were merely pawns.

"How many backpacks have you stolen?"

When Mu Fan asked this, the trio looked at each other and then hung their heads.

"Not a single one…" This time, the shorter one spoke rapidly, "After being projected there, we couldn’t see anyone; the three of us entered and were ejected at the same time. We only encountered that kid over there after a while, and he actually threw away the lighter from the backpack mid-air."

Mu Fan looked towards the corner at that unlucky lad, who displayed a look of grievance; having thrown the lighter away, he had been beaten twice.

"What’s in your three backpacks?" Mu Fan asked again.

The three exchanged glances and confessed honestly:

"Tactical battery."

"High-voltage electric baton."

"Cloak."

Mu Fan: …

To ensure there were no tricks, he checked the backpacks and indeed found these items—genuinely speechless this time.

"Why didn’t I see you using the high-voltage electric baton just now?"

"We did, it’s out of power." The always reticent one finally spoke.

At that moment, the unlucky lad in the corner meekly interjected, "Can the tactical battery be inserted into it?"

A sudden realization dawned on them.

"Shit!"

The man’s face registered annoyance, while the other two looked at him as if they were about to pounce and kick him furiously.

Ignoring them, Mu Fan picked up the cloak and draped it over himself.

"This cloak is mine now."

The trio watched tearfully as Mu Fan put on the cloak and leisurely went back to sit by the fire, continuing to enjoy his barbecue.

After resting, Mu Fan didn’t linger and left the abandoned warehouse to head to the next area.

Only the original four remained in the abandoned warehouse, but this time, those more numerous were all critically incapacitated.

The unlucky lad looked interestedly at the backpack the robbery group had left on the ground…

What happened behind him did not concern Mu Fan; he was determined to push on at all costs.

Time silently ticked by, the third elimination round began.

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