Chapter 23: The Debut of a Master Skill

The moment Chu Hengkong vaulted out of the swamp, the Swampmancer immediately turned to flee. He was neither an Ascendant nor possessed by a demon; his reputation was built entirely on toxins and relic weapons. But since his most reliable swamp trap couldn't hold this fierce man for even a second, what use was there in staying behind except to wait for death?

He ran without hesitation, casting his client and that godforsaken million-credit bounty to the back of his mind. His boots whistled, rendering him literally as fast as a gale. These were wind-boots capable of boosting burst speed for a short duration, the very relic that had allowed the Swampmancer to escape pursuit time and again. He harnessed the wind to vault onto a rooftop, determined to put as much distance as possible between himself and this disaster.

Yet, a second wind followed the whistling of his boots: Chu Hengkong was in hot pursuit. He had kept pace with the relic-enhanced speed using only his legs, and his tentacle-whip was already lashing out.

"If you've got the guts, go fight Hundred-Palms!" the Swampmancer shouted, dodging the whip in a panic.

"I’ll finish you first," Chu Hengkong replied, accelerating to run alongside him. Both leaped from the edge of the roof simultaneously, throwing punches in mid-air! The Swampmancer struck out with his right fist in a desperate bid for survival, but his hand was instantly ensnared by Chu Hengkong’s tentacle. Chu Hengkong followed up with a lightning-fast three-hit combo.

"Ugh—!"

The gut, the chest, the philtrum—three strikes with protruding knuckles landed almost simultaneously. The Swampmancer, on the verge of losing consciousness, desperately blew a tune on his flute, turning their landing spot into a swamp in a bid to stall Chu Hengkong. But the assault did not end; using the tentacle to pull the Swampmancer closer, Chu Hengkong delivered a crushing knee strike in mid-air!

Saliva, gastric acid, and blood erupted from the Swampmancer’s mouth, the excruciating pain threatening to snap his nerves. He collapsed into the mud of his own making, unconscious. Chu Hengkong hooked his tentacle onto the security bars of a nearby building, swung gracefully back into the market, and landed ten meters behind Hundred-Palms. Intelligence on his remaining enemy flashed through his mind.

["Hundred-Palms"]
Bounty: 170,000 Flowing Pearls.
- Strange religious devotion, bloodthirsty by nature, robust physique.
- Haunts the East District of the Atrium, killing randomly with brutal methods.
- Stigma I: "Artful Hands"! Terrifying pressure, one-hit kill!

He had hit the Swampmancer the hardest, as a poisonous swamp posed a greater threat than any weapon. The final enemy was an "Artful Hand," and he had no desire to fight a Stigma I user on a patch of poisoned earth.

"What a pathetic waste. Two guys with spears didn't even last as long as the one throwing poison!"

Hundred-Palms cursed as he turned around. His palms were massive and his skin as rough as gravel; a crescent-moon scar on his solid chest looked particularly ominous. This time, Chu Hengkong broke his rhythm and did not close the distance, instead flicking two water spheres at Hundred-Palms’ eyes. Hundred-Palms raised his palms in defense; the spheres hit his palms and splashed into nothingness, leaving him completely unscathed.

"No matter..." Hundred-Palms grinned, lifting his hands. "I'll kill you all the same!"

He slammed a palm into a nearby corrugated-iron noodle stall, which collapsed with a teeth-gritting screech. The people inside had already fled, screaming. They watched as the stall, large enough to hold several people, shrank under the palm pressure, compressed into a metal ball the size of a fist in the blink of an eye. Hundred-Palms snatched up the ball and hurled it with a roar. The projectile grazed the dodging Chu Hengkong and smashed a deep crater into the ground.

This was precisely why Chu Hengkong hadn't rushed into melee range. Intelligence stated the man's "Artful Hands" possessed a near-lethal compression ability, enough to squeeze a person into a ball of blood and bone. Chu Hengkong had no intention of testing his own physical integrity against that. He retaliated with a barrage of water spheres while dodging, but Hundred-Palms’ broad palms acted like shields. That "pressure" could even crush incoming bullets and hidden weapons; his reaction speed was far sharper than he looked, and his defense was equally airtight.

"What's wrong, Great Detective! Is that all you've got!" Hundred-Palms kept compressing earth and metal to throw, sending three more massive projectiles whistling through the air. Chu Hengkong stopped throwing water, planted his feet, and whipped his tentacle out. The silver lash struck a projectile, but instead of cleaving it as onlookers might expect, the tentacle stretched like a rubber band, utilizing the elasticity to hurl the projectile back.

Before new stones could be formed, the old ones were already flying back. Hundred-Palms hurriedly retracted his palms to defend, crushing the three stones, but the exploding dirt and debris obscured his vision. Chu Hengkong seized the opportunity and sprinted, shooting toward Hundred-Palms' back like an arrow from a bow. He aimed to strike from the blind spot of those palms, intending to finish his opponent with a single decisive blow.

However, Chu Hengkong’s strike was a beat too slow. Only after reaching the rear did he see the other hand Hundred-Palms had been holding low. In that hand was a transparent sphere, heavily squeezed by his "Artful Hands"...

It was highly compressed air!

Hundred-Palms squeezed the air sphere until it burst. The blast of air transformed into an invisible blade, rushing toward Chu Hengkong’s face with immense force. Chu Hengkong crossed his arms in defense, feeling as though he had been struck head-on by a sedan. The wild power pushed him back several meters, crashing through countless stalls of fruits and vegetables until he finally ground to a halt against a concrete wall.

The sheer impact left spiderweb cracks in the wall, and the air-blade carved deep gashes into his arms, silver blood leaking from his tentacle. Chu Hengkong took a deep breath, compressing his muscles to force the bleeding to stop. Hundred-Palms' laughter pierced his ears as the man charged forward with both hands raised, looking as savage as a truck with the throttle pinned to the floor.

"I will offer your flesh and blood to the moon!" Hundred-Palms roared maniacally. "Watch closely before you die—this... is what 'Artful Hands' really means!"

The crescent-moon scar on his chest glowed with a pitch-black light. Ugly, fleshy protrusions sprouted from his wrists, rapidly expanding and taking shape until they became additional pairs of palms. The four hands multiplied incessantly—four became eight, eight became sixteen... In the blink of an eye, the shadows of giant hands blanketed the earth. Hundred-Palms had become a tree blooming with branches of flesh, the proliferating giant hands serving as its leaves. A hundred palms formed a web around Chu Hengkong; each one possessed that terrifying compression ability, each one was an "Artful Hand"!

This was the origin of his title. He was a powerhouse with a hundred artful hands; even an elite force of a hundred men would not be a match for him. Chu Hengkong felt his breath hitch as the air within the web began to thin; a hundred compressed air spheres were forming simultaneously. Hundred-Palms intended to blow him to pieces, and if he dared to break out recklessly, he would be crushed within the palms himself.

"Plenty of brute force, but no finesse," Chu Hengkong remarked. "Hardly 'artful'."

Even now, he had the leisure to smile, critiquing his opponent's style like an old master. The long-absent sensation of being wounded had excited him; his fighting spirit, long dormant, flared up, overshadowing his identity as a killer. Chu Hengkong tucked his right hand behind his back, leaned slightly forward, and tensed the tentacle on his left arm until it became like a silver soft-sword. He thrust the blade straight out, aiming directly at one of the palms before him.

A bloodthirsty excitement glinted in Hundred-Palms' eyes, anticipating the spray of blood as the tentacle was crushed. But suddenly, he felt a sharp, needle-like pain—a pain that dug deep into his marrow, hijacking his nerves and forcing his palm to jerk involuntarily. The air sphere, only half-formed, ruptured, and the runaway wind blades sliced into his own palm!

Hundred-Palms stared in shock, seeing Chu Hengkong’s smile through the gaps between his fingers. After that insidious jab, the tentacle retracted, followed by a flurry of precise, stinging strikes that landed like a sudden rainstorm. They struck the fingertips, flicked the base of the palms, or merely brushed the knuckles, yet each time, the palm would lose control and move erratically. The rhythm of the compressed air spheres was utterly shattered; wild wind-blades tore through muscle, causing the web of palms to bloom with fresh wounds.

Hundred-Palms' assault was torn apart in an instant, for the moment Chu Hengkong struck, the opponent's flesh no longer belonged to him. This was the true "Artful Hands"—the ability to control every piece of flesh on one's own body, and thus, freely control the bodies of others. In some legends, this was called "Acupoint Striking"; some religions called it the "Devil’s Puppet Hands." But in most of the Dust Isles of the Sinking World, it had a name that thundered like a bell—

The Dragon-Village Fist!

"You... a Dragon-Village martial artist?!"

Bright red blood fell like rain. The web of artful hands was easily torn asunder, and Hundred-Palms let out a cry of disbelief and agony. Chu Hengkong vaulted out of the web through a gap, flipping in the air to land behind Hundred-Palms. In his desperation, Hundred-Palms abandoned his defensive web and turned, holding his palms flat in front of him for protection. Chu Hengkong focused his energy, preparing to end the fight with a single, powerful, crushing blow. But his tentacle stirred excitedly; the fighting spirit, roused by the battle, seemed to trigger an epiphany, giving him a sensation reminiscent of the day he ascended.

He adjusted his stance to follow that miraculous feeling, letting the inspiration surge through his body. The right fist he had been about to throw curled into a claw; the surging energy flowed into his left arm, compressing the tentacle inch by inch. When the power reached its absolute peak, Chu Hengkong’s eyes blazed like lanterns. He exhaled sharply, slammed his left foot down in a tremor-step, and unified the strength from every part of his body. His erupting left arm became a flash of silver!

It was the fastest strike Chu Hengkong had ever delivered. The lashing tentacle shot out like an indestructible spear, and a white sonic boom erupted from its tip. The explosive force smashed through Hundred-Palms' guard, carving a gaping hole of blood through his chest and abdomen!

Hundred-Palms was blown high into the sky by the violent gale, his blood spattering to form a crimson path. The team members in the rear, who had been holding their communicators to call for help, subconsciously lowered their arms. Together with the citizens, they stared at the man who had delivered the punch, as if gazing upon a hero who had transcended human limits.

Chu Hengkong retracted his tentacle and brushed the dust off his clothes, feeling exceptionally satisfied with this spur-of-the-moment technique. He was just pondering what to name the move when he turned and saw Ji Huaisu leading her team to provide support.

"Wow," the golden-haired girl said, her mouth agape. "Tentacle-Spring-Fist!"