The Trillionaire Son-in-Law: God-Level Choice System

Monkey and the Mountain

This chapter is kept free because last chapter was wrongly updated and i apologize for any loss of coin this might have cause for you. last chapter has been edited but since it is weekend, it might take a few days for editor to approve. 

I am sorry for any inconvinience caused, enjoy your read

The gates of the Arena closed with a resounding clang. Chase Lu stood in the center of the vast basalt floor. The ambient thermal heat of the caldera radiated upward through the soles of his boots. He faced Master Ken across the scorched stone. The stage two cultivator wore loose gray martial robes and wrapped his hands in thick linen. The crowd in the stone bleachers fell silent as the first match of the Gauntlet commenced.

Neither man bowed. The deep regional hostility negated the standard martial pleasantries.

Master Ken did not adopt a traditional fighting stance. The wiry rogue disciple began to circle Chase in a chaotic irregular rhythm. He never walked in a straight line. His lean shoulders swayed lazily and his feet constantly changed elevation. Sometimes he bounded forward as if preparing a lethal strike. Other times he shuffled backward in a deceptive retreat.

Chase activated his Medical God skill. The blue digital interface struggled to map the physical intent of the rogue. Ken deliberately altered his breathing pattern and muscle tension every three seconds to scramble any predictive analysis.

"The billionaire is frozen," a cultivator in the lower bleachers laughed loudly. "He cannot even find the target."

Chase refused to chase the elusive disciple. He stood completely still in the center of the arena and calmly observed the shifting geometry of the erratic footwork.

Grandmaster Qin sat on a lower stone bench near the arena wall. The veteran commander watched the patience of his sovereign and smiled slightly. The King of the North was learning to control his aggressive instincts.

Master Ken suddenly vanished from his peripheral vision.

It was not true teleportation or elemental magic. It was an application of pure flawless footwork refined through decades of combat. Ken appeared instantly behind the right shoulder of the sovereign. The rogue thrust three rigid fingers directly toward the exposed kidney of the billionaire.

The strike connected with devastating speed.

Instead of piercing flesh and rupturing the vital organ the rigid fingers slammed against the invisible Nyth Skin armor resting beneath the black shirt. The liquid sapphire scales absorbed the impact instantly. Master Ken felt as if he had just driven his bare hand into a block of solid forged steel.

His fingers ached with sudden sharp pain. His dark eyes widened in profound shock.

Ken did not hesitate. He instantly utilized his chaotic footwork to retreat before the sovereign could launch a counterattack. He bounded backward and created ten feet of distance in a fraction of a second.

Only Chase noticed the brief panic in the eyes of the disciple. He felt the dull thud of the impact dissipate against his skin. The defensive investment from the dimensional market was working perfectly. The surrounding audience could not see the invisible scales. They assumed the northern billionaire simply tanked a stage two strike through raw physical durability.

Patriarch Fang leaned forward on his elevated observation deck. The warlord narrowed his eyes. He recognized that basic physical density could not absorb a vital strike without causing internal bleeding.

Master Ken abandoned the lethal thrusts. He realized he could not pierce the core defense of his target. He shifted his tactical approach and began attacking the vulnerable joints.

The rogue lunged forward again. He struck from impossible blinding angles. He aimed his hardened knuckles at the wrists, the ankles and the collarbone of the sovereign. He targeted the solar plexus and the back of the neck.

Chase blocked the majority of the incoming strikes using his forearms. Other blows grazed his ribs and his shoulders. The sharp linen wraps tore his tailored shirt to ribbons. Dust rose from the basalt floor as the two cultivators clashed in a furious flurry of motion.

The southern crowd erupted into deafening cheers.

For nearly a full minute Chase could not land a single clean hit on the elusive rogue. Every time he swung his fist Ken simply swayed backward and allowed the strike to pass harmlessly through the empty air.

Victoria gripped the wooden hilt of her practice sword near the entrance gate. She watched the billionaire swing and miss repeatedly.

"He cannot catch him," Victoria noted with deep concern. She recognized the disparity between the two fighters.

"No," Grandmaster Qin answered quietly. He did not look worried. "But he refuses to waste his Qi. He is forcing the rogue to expend stamina while he maps the battlefield."

The digital interface inside the mind of the sovereign worked furiously. Hacker God processed every sway and every shuffle. Thousands of martial theories downloaded from the system compared against the elusive style of the rogue. Medical God mapped the exact muscle contractions occurring in the calves and thighs of Master Ken.

The movements were not truly random. True chaos could not sustain kinetic balance.

The Hacker God skill isolated the pattern. The rogue repeated his irregular rhythm every eleven transitions. It was a highly sophisticated sequence designed to look random but it possessed a fundamental structural loop.

Chase smiled. The cold expression lacked any humor.

"I found you," Chase whispered.

Ken noticed the subtle smile. For the first time in the match the famous rogue felt a cold spike of genuine unease pierce his arrogance.

Chase planted his right foot firmly against the stone floor. He executed the foundational Dragon Stance. He did not flood the arena with a blinding golden aura. He spent only a microscopic fraction of his Dragon Qi to anchor his weight.

The black basalt beneath his boots fractured into a spiderweb of cracks.

The surrounding air instantly became heavy. The ambient gravity within a ten foot radius thickened dramatically. The atmospheric suppression did not freeze the stage two cultivator entirely. It only slowed the erratic movements of Master Ken by roughly fifteen percent.

But fifteen percent was exactly the margin required to shatter a flawless rhythm.

The audience gasped as the blurring speed of the rogue suddenly became trackable. Ken felt the oppressive weight dragging against his limbs. He immediately understood the tactical shift.

"So that is your trick," Ken grunted.

The rogue did not panic. He proved why he survived in the brutal southern ecosystem. He adapted. He began using much shorter steps and smaller lateral movements. He reduced the surface area of his footwork to mitigate the suppression effect. He did not try to overpower the Dragon Stance. He simply altered his geometry to survive within it.

Grandmaster Qin nodded with profound approval. The veteran commander respected the survival instinct of the rogue. The southern masters were not arrogant fools relying solely on brute force.

Ken finally became serious. The rogue decided to end the match before the gravity exhausted his stamina.

He ripped the rough linen wraps away from his hands. Hidden beneath the fabric were steel fingertip guards. They were not bladed weapons. They were specialized training tools designed to focus raw energy into a microscopic point. The steel guards glowed with a sickening pale green Qi.

Master Ken executed the second form of the Monkey Snatching Technique.

He lunged forward with terrifying renewed speed. Every thrust of his glowing fingers created miniature air explosions. He attacked the pressure points of the sovereign faster than the mortal eye could follow.

Even with the gravity suppression Chase could not block the sudden blinding barrage. He took three clean hits directly to his nervous system.

The steel fingertips struck his left shoulder. The entire limb instantly went numb. A second strike hit his bicep and sent a painful tingling sensation down his arm. The final strike bypassed his guard and slammed directly into his diaphragm. His breathing stuttered violently as the pale green Qi temporarily disrupted his lungs.

Chase staggered backward. He felt the profound danger of a true martial master. For the first time since entering the underworld he realized raw density was not an absolute guarantee of victory. He could lose.

The massive Arena fell into a dead, shocked silence. The crowd waited for the arrogant northern billionaire to collapse.

Chase did not collapse. He did not panic.

He abandoned the futile attempt to match the technical mastery of the rogue. He embraced his greatest biological advantage. He flooded his dense muscular structure with Dragon Qi. He did not condense the power for a Dragon Strike. He simply utilized the primordial mist to reinforce his skeletal frame and his damaged nervous system.

Ken launched another rapid assault. He aimed a flurry of strikes at the chest of the sovereign.

Instead of retreating or evading Chase walked directly forward into the barrage.

Every single strike landed with a sharp crack. The invisible Nyth Skin armor absorbed the penetration while his reinforced muscles absorbed the blunt force trauma. Every hit failed to stop his forward momentum.

The audience watched the brutal exchange in absolute disbelief. It was exactly like watching a man try to punch a moving mountain.

Master Ken felt his breathing become ragged. The physical exertion required to maintain his speed against the heavy gravity was draining his core. He realized with a sickening dread that he was expending vastly more Qi than his opponent.

Ken understood the brutal reality of the shrinking distance. If the King of the North grabbed him the match was over.

The rogue launched into his absolute fastest sequence. He threw twenty strikes. Thirty strikes. Forty strikes. His hands blurred into pale green afterimages.

Chase simply raised his forearms and tucked his chin. He blocked with his elbows and his shoulders. He let the rogue batter against his invisible armor. The Nyth Skin remained silent and unbroken. The Medical God interface reported zero structural damage to his internal organs.

Ken grew desperate and furious.

"Why will you not break?" Ken screamed.

He lunged forward and aimed his steel fingertips directly at the exposed throat of the billionaire. It was the exact same lethal trajectory he had utilized at the beginning of the match.

Chase had already predicted the desperate strike.

The sovereign pivoted sharply on his left heel. He parried the incoming wrist with his numb forearm. He closed his right hand and grabbed the forearm of the rogue with an absolute crushing grip.

The entire arena froze. This was the first successful physical grab of the entire match.

Master Ken looked at the large hand clamped around his arm. The rogue realized instantly that his speed was neutralized. His technique was irrelevant. He was finished.

Chase did not draw Pride. He did not unleash the Dragon Breath. He did not waste his energy on a Dragon Roar or a Qi Infusion.

He utilized the most basic fundamental physical technique taught by the old rogue cultivator. He twisted his hips and leveraged his massive enhanced density. He executed a simple brutal shoulder throw.

He launched Master Ken over his back.

The rogue slammed into the basalt floor with terrifying kinetic force. The impact cratered the solid volcanic stone beneath them. Dust and sharp fragments of rock exploded into the hot air.

Before Ken could even attempt to recover Chase stepped forward. He drove one Qi reinforced knee directly into the sternum of the fallen cultivator.

The secondary impact detonated the stone completely. A wide web of deep fissures spread across the floor of the arena.

Master Ken coughed a massive spray of dark blood. The pale green aura surrounding his body collapsed instantly. His eyes rolled back into his head and his limbs went entirely limp.

Silence reigned over the Crimson Lotus Pavilion.

Adjudicator Shen stared at the crater. The official swallowed hard and began the mandatory count.

"...Eight..."

The crowd remained frozen in disbelief.

"...Nine..."

"...Ten."

Master Ken was unconscious. The opening match of the Gauntlet was over.

Chase stepped backward away from the crater. He breathed much harder than he expected. His tailored black shirt hung in ruined shreds. Several dark purple bruises were visible on his arms where the sheer blunt force had bypassed the armor. His left arm still tingled from the severe pressure point strikes.

He had won the match but he had not won it effortlessly.

The King of the North finally understood the true terrifying depth of the hidden world. The Southern Alliance was not powerful simply because their cultivators possessed superior magical energy. They were dangerous because every single survivor in the province had mastered the art of killing through decades of brutal physical combat.

Patriarch Fang sat on the high observation deck. The warlord did not look angry. He smiled a slow cold smile.

"Good," Patriarch Fang noted quietly to himself. "He did not draw the artifact sword. But he revealed enough of his physical threshold. He can be bled."

Julio Fang stood in the deep shadows near the entrance of the highest VIP tunnel. The mountain prodigy wore pristine white robes. He watched the northern billionaire assess his own bruised arms. For the very first time since the tournament was announced Julio considered Chase Lu worthy of being his prey.