"Good lad! You’re truly ruthless! To beat my disciple to such a state?"
When hundreds of people in the arena turned their gaze toward the source of the voice, they saw an old man, over fifty, ardently picking up one of the youths who had just been knocked off the stage by Black Hawk.
The experts below the stage who had participated in the selection competition all gasped upon seeing the old man!
"Ghost Hand from the Mountain and River List!"
"Ghost Hand! It’s really him!"
"Isn’t this the eighth-ranked Ghost Hand from the Mountain and River List?"
At that moment, the entire area around the stage erupted into noisy discussions.
Although today was the day for the Mountain and River List selection competition, until now, no one had even seen a glimpse of the top ten contenders.
The appearance of Ghost Hand, ranked eighth on the Mountain and River List, undoubtedly shocked everyone.
With so many people below the stage today, all were here to challenge the last of the top ten of the Mountain and River List, but now that the eighth-ranked had appeared, who could challenge him? Wasn’t that suicidal?
After all, Ghost Hand had held his position on the Mountain and River List for nearly ten years, and very few had been able to shake his standing.
"Oh? Ghost Hand appeared?"
On the stage, Fang Yizheng merely raised his eyebrows a bit, watched Ghost Hand with interest, but soon his gaze shifted back to Black Hawk on the other side of the stage.
"Now that you have no opponents left, you can issue a challenge to a master of the Mountain and River List. I wonder if you are willing to challenge the top eight, Ghost Hand?"
Who knows what this old man was thinking.
Although he looked harmless and benevolent on the surface, most of the experts under the stage had figured out this old bastard’s intentions.
Everyone expected that the man in the arena would readily accept the challenge.
But this guy wasn’t foolish at all—he simply raised his hand to indicate that he forfeited—
Almost choking the old man Ghost Hand with a surge of blood in reverse.
"Who said you can come and go as you wish? Come on, play with this old man."
After setting down the youth, Ghost Hand step by step walked toward the stage.
His sullen face filled with a mocking expression.
The old man wasn’t tall, probably around 160 cm, and his gray robe made him appear like a "major shrimp" from a martial arts TV show.
With his sharp and shrewd facial features, he clearly looked like a sinister character.
After ascending the stage, Ghost Hand first politely nodded to the referee Fang Yizheng, displaying a very modest attitude.
However, Fang Yizheng didn’t pay him any attention and rolled his eyes while looking at the ceiling of the basement.
This scene was perfectly captured by Lin Zifeng from the second floor.
It seemed that this Fang Yizheng was not simple at all.
He might even be one of those on the Mountain and River List.
"Sorry, I’m already tired. I don’t want to fight anymore," Black Hawk bowed a little, his indifferent face not even sparing Ghost Hand a glance.
This feeling of being ignored made Ghost Hand’s face feel unbearably hot.
"Thinking of leaving? Hmph! I fear it won’t be that easy!"
The old man flung his long robe, his gaze fiery, yet unable to hide the murderous intent in his eyes.
Squinting his sinister eyes, under the light, a few fierce glints flashed across.
"I’ve already said, I’m tired, I don’t want to fight anymore," Black Hawk didn’t care who he was, even if it was one of the top eight of the Mountain and River List, so what?
The older man had said he wouldn’t do it, so he wouldn’t.
As soon as Black Hawk spoke, all the experts under the stage broke into a cold sweat for him; no one here probably dared to speak to one of the top eight of the Mountain and River List like that.
"Hehe, you no longer have a choice!"
Atop the ring, Ghost Hand chuckled lightly, his nimble Ghost Steps swiftly advancing toward Black Hawk.
The mere five-meter distance seemed to have instantly halved under his feet, especially his palms, which truly resembled ghostly hands.
Incredibly fast, each swing of his palms left behind large swathes of black afterimages in the void.
The afterimages of his two arms looked like two Spiritual Snakes, shifting through countless positions as they directly aimed for Black Hawk’s head.
So fast that even the air burst into exploding noises.
Black Hawk, known for his fiery temper, suddenly became enraged.
But his reaction was still a beat too slow.
Ghost Hand’s speed was almost like lightning, leaving ghostly trails throughout the hundred-meter ring within just ten steps.