Chapter 029: What Should I Do?

“Detected a loss of vital energy. Would you like to initiate recovery?”
“Yes!”
“Vitality +63.”
The system’s recovery notification flashed by.
Tang Mubai seemed not to notice, his feet barely touching the ground as he charged toward the middle-aged woman.

“How dare you!”
The middle-aged woman was both shocked and enraged. With a low shout, she met Tang Mubai head-on.

A sudden tremor vibrated the air.
Tang Mubai’s forward momentum halted abruptly.
A tremendous pressure, invisible and oppressive, descended upon him, pinning him in place, rendering him immobile in an instant.

“…Pressure again?”
Every muscle in Tang Mubai’s body tensed, but his face remained composed, not a hint of breathlessness or flush; instead, he grinned inwardly with delight.

Just a few days ago, while taking a shortcut through the city’s alleys, he’d been caught up in an unexpected disaster—a burly, beastified middle-aged man had unleashed a terrifying aura, heavy as a mountain, leaving even Tang Mubai’s fingers unable to twitch.

But now!

Though he was oppressed, Tang Mubai was not completely paralyzed!
With a Willpower attribute of 5, the overwhelming pressure that once crushed his soul had now become utterly ineffective.

He watched the furious woman approach, step by step, and quietly activated his supernatural ability—

Pressure Manipulation!

A subtle but familiar sensation surged through him as his body shuddered.
The oppressive force that the woman had projected over him vanished completely.

The next instant, Tang Mubai focused his spirit, gathering his own intimidating aura and directing it at the woman, who, now less than three meters away, was caught within its grip.

“What is this…”
Her expression changed drastically, the rage in her eyes replaced by shock and fear.
“You… how can you possibly be a master-level martial artist?”
She could hardly believe it, her voice a guttural growl.

Like the beastly man Tang Mubai had previously encountered, the woman understood that only a master or grandmaster martial artist could surpass her in terms of aura.
Tang Mubai was clearly under twenty—he couldn’t be a grandmaster, so he could only be a master!

Such a young master-level martial artist—this realization filled her with terror. In her panic, she bit down hard on a tooth, drawing blood that trickled from her lips to her neck, staining a marble-sized bone bead hanging there.

A wash of pale light burst from the bead.

Bathed in its glow, the woman, who had been immobilized by Tang Mubai’s pressure, regained her freedom of movement.

With a skyward howl, her face contorted in rage, bones shifting beneath her skin until her entire head had transformed into a snarling wolf’s muzzle.

A beastman—she was a beastman!

No sooner had she broken free from Tang Mubai’s pressure than she lunged at him, claws flashing in the air.

A savage, bloodthirsty aura erupted at once, assailing Tang Mubai as the transformation took hold.

“So what if you’re a master-level martial artist?”
She roared, her eyes now pure beast, locking onto him.

In response, Tang Mubai met her attack with a single, slicing blade—his blood energy surging to twenty calories.

The forceful, rapid blade sliced through the air, splitting it with a dull boom.
His mastery of the Wave-Cutting Blade Technique brought his strength to its peak; coupled with the explosive power of twenty calories of blood energy, the resulting force was no weaker than the beastwoman’s own.

The blade’s threat was immediate.

Caught off guard, the woman responded with increased ferocity.

A resounding crash echoed through the woods, followed by the hiss of tearing flesh and a spatter of blood arcing through the air.

Tang Mubai staggered back seven steps, halting only when his back slammed into a large tree.

The woman retreated three steps, but her right arm now bore a ghastly wound—skin cleanly sliced, exposing red muscle and stark white bone.

Tang Mubai’s blade had cut deep, nearly to the bone—another twenty calories of blood energy and he might have severed the arm entirely.

This result left Tang Mubai astonished and delighted. He could sense that the woman’s strength was on par with a professional-level human martial artist.

Without his supernatural ability—Pressure Manipulation—he would have fled at once.
After all, the gap in blood energy between a specialist and a professional was vast.

Yet Tang Mubai’s constitution and strength far surpassed the average specialist!
Attributes of 10 in Strength, Constitution, and Agility—traits that even many professionals might lack.

Thus, the combined might of his blade technique and blood energy was not inferior to the beastified woman’s.

It was known that a beastman’s strength post-transformation was triple what it was before.

If Tang Mubai could gain the upper hand against a transformed beastman, did that not mean his true combat power exceeded that of most professional martial artists?

At this thought, Tang Mubai could scarcely contain his excitement.

“So I’ve become this strong already!”

Tang Mubai rejoiced, while the woman was consumed by anger and fear.
Anger that he’d nearly severed her arm; fear at the relentless pressure he exerted.

Even grandmasters could not maintain such pressure for long; the longer it lasted, the more spiritual energy it consumed.

Yet Tang Mubai sustained it effortlessly, which filled the woman with dread.

What he didn’t know was that once the bead at her neck was activated, the white light not only neutralized external pressure but also doubled her strength again post-transformation, elevating her power to that of a master-level martial artist.

This was the source of her confidence, even after realizing Tang Mubai’s true strength.

Now, faced with his overwhelming power and bizarre aura, she dared not linger.

With another furious roar, she attacked, hoping for a swift conclusion.

Gales howled as her figure blurred, leaving only afterimages in her wake as she pounced upon Tang Mubai.

This time, he did not meet her head-on, but dodged like lightning, drawing her into a battle of maneuver and attrition.

Without his interference, the tree behind him was raked by her claws, leaving three deep gouges and a spray of splinters.

Having missed, she leapt again, launching another assault.

Tang Mubai’s figure darted through the forest, his oppressive aura once more enveloping her.

A reverberating boom sounded as the woman, bathed in white light and unshaken by the pressure, hurled herself at Tang Mubai like a cannonball.

He continued to evade, his pressure now useless against her—one less trump card in his hand.

Now, only his consummate blade technique, his raw strength, and what remained of his blood energy stood between him and the beastwoman.

But he could not maintain this for long; the longer the fight dragged on, the less it favored him.

What should he do?