Chapter Thirty-Three: The Roar of the Pines, Thunder God!

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“The life-and-death agreement has been signed!

“Victory lies with man; life and death lie with Heaven!”

As Yang Sheng stepped onto the ring, a tall man in a karate gi came forward from the Tide Righteousness Association.

The man was in his thirties, nearly two meters tall, and even more powerfully built than Zuo Kun.

His head was completely bald, his features square and imposing. He resembled one of the wrathful guardians of Buddhism.

Before Yang Sheng entered the ring, Ghostly Old Man Wen had already introduced the man’s background to him.

He was Lei Dongjun, the boss of the Eastern District for the Tide Righteousness Association, nicknamed Thunder God—and their foremost fighter.

Unlike the other street-born enforcers, Lei God had followed his father to Japan as a child. He had become the final disciple accepted in his old age by Gichin Funakoshi, the father of modern karate and founder of the Shotokan school.

Gichin Funakoshi was the model for Funakoshi Bunto in Jet Li’s Fist of Legend, and his influence in the Japanese karate world had been immense.

When Lei God became Funakoshi’s disciple, the Japanese martial-arts community was deeply hostile toward outsiders. For Lei God to defeat countless opponents and be accepted as Funakoshi’s final disciple, the difficulty involved was obvious.

After returning to Hong Kong, Lei God accidentally beat a man to death while trying to reclaim his family’s ancestral property. Wu Tianhao had intervened to get him out and settle the matter.

From then on, Lei God became the Tide Righteousness Association’s foremost enforcer. Whenever he took action, the result was inevitably death or crippling injury. Even Wu Tianhao sometimes had to warn him to show restraint.

Standing in the center of the ring, Lei God gave Yang Sheng a savage grin.

“Brother Hao is furious, and the consequences will be severe.

“Since you refuse to leave the ring, then you can stay here forever!”

As his voice fell, Lei God stamped down hard, releasing a thunderous roar that left the eardrums of some spectators near the edge of the ring aching.

“Gichin Funakoshi once studied the ancient martial arts of the Ryukyu Kingdom under Anko Asato, a master of Shuri-te. The so-called Shotokan school is nothing more than a branch of the ancient Ryukyuan arts of Shuri-te and Naha-te.

“Both are forms of Chinese hand combat, spread to the Ryukyus when the thirty-six Fujian families migrated there during the Ming dynasty. They bear unmistakable marks of Southern-style boxing.

“You refuse to study what your ancestors left behind and insist on learning this distorted, neither-here-nor-there nonsense. Even if someone beats you to death, you will not know which ancestor to kneel before and beg forgiveness!”

Yang Sheng’s words only drove Lei God’s fury higher.

The man was built like a bear, and his charge possessed tremendous weight and momentum. His fist shot straight toward Yang Sheng’s face, the wind around it shrieking.

Yang Sheng planted himself in the Two Principles Stance, twisting sideways and cutting inward, his upper body crashing into Lei God’s centerline.

But Lei God’s reaction was astonishingly swift. He chopped downward with his hand, violently slashing toward Yang Sheng’s throat.

Most Japanese karate schools now taught little more than tournament techniques suited to various competitions.

But as Gichin Funakoshi’s final disciple, Lei God’s Shotokan karate still carried the strong flavor of ancient Ryukyuan martial arts. It was a classic battlefield combat system.

Yang Sheng dragged his palm across to disperse the force. His arm coiled around Lei God’s right arm like a spirit serpent, while his fingers clamped down viciously into the gap beside Lei God’s shoulder blade like a tiger’s claw.

Lei God let out a pained roar. Ignoring the pain, he wrapped both arms around Yang Sheng and hurled him backward, lifting his entire body into the air.

As a grandmaster of karate, Gichin Funakoshi’s revisions of Shuri-te were not entirely without merit.

The Japanese were exceptionally skilled at learning, and this was true in every field, including martial arts.

Shotokan abandoned some of Shuri-te’s overly elaborate forms. In its later development, it also absorbed elements of jujutsu, kickboxing, and other styles, becoming more practical and effective.

But the Japanese were skilled at learning, not at adapting.

The same techniques were not necessarily suitable for everyone.

Suspended in midair, Yang Sheng struck Lei God’s head with both palms at once.

Twin Peaks Piercing the Ears!

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Lei God’s head immediately rang with a buzzing roar, and his vision went black.

Yet his combat experience was extremely rich. He raised his leg and unleashed a succession of knee strikes, each one higher and more powerful than the last, attempting to blast Yang Sheng away.

But Yang Sheng twisted his waist in midair and summoned his strength, crashing down with his entire body in the posture of the Heart-Piercing Elbow from Eight Extremes Boxing.

Bang!

With a thunderous impact, Lei God let out a muffled groan. A piercing pain shot through his left leg, and he staggered backward.

“Shotokan ultimately comes from Southern-style boxing. It excels at close-range strikes, but in pursuing simplicity and maximum destructive power, it abandoned the intricate transformations of Southern boxing.

“With your build, you should have practiced the broad, expansive movements of Northern-style boxing. You would have been far more troublesome than Zuo Kun with his Through-the-Back and Draping-Sash techniques.

“But unfortunately, you chose the wrong ancestors and bowed to the wrong master!”

Yang Sheng pursued Lei God without pause, directing a vicious barrage of Stamping Kicks at the injured leg.

Lei God roared and unleashed a flurry of punches, as swift and relentless as wind and rain, blocking the space before him.

His tall frame gave his punches exceptional reach, and he intended to keep Yang Sheng at bay.

But Yang Sheng was even more ferocious.

He seized the initiative and met attack with attack.

Choy Li Fut—Iron Arrow Fist!

Eight Extremes Boxing—Chaotic Arrow Strikes!

A rapid series of explosive cracks rang out. Blood sprayed between the two men, and all four fists had turned red with it.

Then, in the gap between Lei God’s punches, Yang Sheng suddenly changed his fist into fingers. He thrust forward and raked them toward Lei God’s eyes.

Golden Thread Wiping the Brow!

The technique was vicious beyond measure. Lei God reacted with astonishing speed and leaned backward, but a streak of blood was still drawn from both eyes. They instantly swelled shut, leaving him blind as he covered them and screamed in agony.

The momentum reversed in an instant, causing every spectator to tense.

From the side of the Righteous Brotherhood, Zhou Chengyuan suddenly gave a bitter laugh.

“He held back last time.

“He had the advantage over me in the ring. In a fight to the death, I would never have been his equal.”

Indeed, whether he had fought Zuo Kun or Zhou Chengyuan, Yang Sheng had never truly used his full strength.

What had he really learned? It was not traditional Chinese martial arts, nor fighting techniques. It was the purest and most extreme art of killing—the killing arts he had learned for the sake of revenge.

In his battles with Zuo Kun and Zhou Chengyuan, Yang Sheng had deliberately refrained from using many of his most vicious methods. After all, neither had been a fight to the death.

But now he had openly broken with Wu Tianhao, and he had acquired a trump card. Naturally, he no longer had any reason to hold back in the ring.

Unable to see, Lei God swung his arms wildly. Like a sinister viper, Yang Sheng seized the opportunity to tear across his arm before twisting it into a strangling lock.

With a sharp crack, Lei God’s arm was wrenched into a grotesque angle, and he let out a howl of agony.

Yang Sheng had no intention of stopping. His fists rained down upon Lei God’s bald skull.

Half-Step Crushing Fist, Fire Section Cannon Fist, Taiji Cannon Hammer…

In almost the blink of an eye, Lei God’s head had become a bloody gourd, so battered that it no longer looked human.

Song Changli, standing beneath the ring, seemed to want to say something, but ultimately remained silent.

The life-and-death agreement had been signed.

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Victory lay with man; life and death lay with Heaven.

Even if Lei God was now being brutally slaughtered by Yang Sheng, it still conformed to the rules.

With a final Mandarin-Duck Leg, Yang Sheng sent Lei God flying from the ring. He crashed beneath the platform, his body twitching. A moment later, he lay motionless.

“Yang Sheng!”

Wu Tianhao sprang to his feet, the murderous intent in his eyes almost solid enough to take shape.

“Beautifully done!”

Lei Luo rose as well, applauding.

“This Dragon City Championship is far more entertaining than horse racing or the like.

“Ah Hao, why did you not invite me sooner to something this interesting?”

Wu Tianhao looked at Lei Luo, then at Yang Sheng, and forced three words through clenched teeth.

“Good. Very good.”

Without another word, he turned and left with his men.

A thoughtful look appeared in Huang Juekun’s eyes.

At present, the only person capable of completely suppressing Wu Tianhao was Lei Luo.

But if Lei Luo truly gained absolute control, the other societies might not find life any easier.

Yang Sheng slowly descended from the ring. Dilu and the others hurried over with gauze and ice packs to bandage his wounds and reduce the swelling.

Although Yang Sheng had verbally scorned and mercilessly mocked Lei God’s Shotokan karate, that did not mean Lei God himself was weak.

Martial arts had no inherent distinction between strong and weak. People did.

Like Zuo Kun, Lei God possessed extraordinary physical gifts. With the right boxing style, he could have achieved twice the result with half the effort.

Zuo Kun had chosen correctly. Lei God had not chosen the style best suited to him.

Gichin Funakoshi had revised Shotokan karate to make it suitable for most practitioners. It was naturally suitable for Lei God as well, but it was not the style best suited to him and could not fully exploit his physical advantages.

This was especially true in a battle to the death. Shotokan simply had too few killing techniques.

In the past, whenever Lei God fought someone, he could rely on his physical superiority to kill them with a single punch.

But against an expert of Yang Sheng’s caliber, in a fight to the death, Lei God was destined to be the one who died.

Lei Luo now walked over and patted Yang Sheng on the shoulder.

“Ah Sheng, fight well. I will take my leave first.”

Lei Luo had come this time specifically to counter Wu Tianhao.

Now that Wu Tianhao had already left, he had no interest in continuing to watch the matches.

Besides, given his status, it was not appropriate for him to remain in Kowloon Walled City for long.

“Take care, Brother Luo. Thank you for stepping in today.”

Lei Luo waved a hand.

“Since you are the blade in my hand, how could I let you be broken so soon?”

With that, Lei Luo waved to his men and swaggered away, cutting a magnificent figure.

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