Body Remodeling 99% Completed!

The referee observed the angry mob forming in the arena but didn't immediately start the fight. Instead, he turned to Feng Fan with a meaningful expression and asked.

"Kid, are you sure you want to go through with this? You can back out now. No one will think less of you."

His tone carried a note of caution, offering Feng Fan a way out. After all, the idea of a single 1st Body Forging cultivator standing against a horde of Qi Gathering cultivators was absurd. Something he had never even heard of before.

Feng Fan caught the referee's well-meaning intentions and offered a polite nod of gratitude. Despite this, he remained resolute. Winning or losing didn't matter to him, he had only one objective in mind.

To get spanked!

Cough, cough.

To complete his body remodeling process!

The more hits he endured, the closer he'd get to his goal. In fact, the more people striking him, the better.

"Don't worry, Senior. Let's get started. I'm ready," Feng Fan declared with a confident grin.

The referee sighed deeply. If the kid refused to back down, what else could he do?

"Start!" he shouted, signaling the start of the chaos.

When the referee's signal rang out, the furious mob wasted no time. They surged toward Feng Fan like a wave, determined to make him regret his arrogance.

Unlike Peng Hui, many of them opted to arm themselves with the wooden weapons provided by the arena, adding weight to their strikes.

In moments, eight disciples had encircled Feng Fan, their blows raining down relentlessly.

Their attacks were so frenzied that if it weren't for the lack of space to stand close enough to hit Feng Fan, they might have struck him all at once in unison.

"Come on, brothers! Hit him harder!" one of the attackers shouted, spurring the mob into a frenzy.

Feng Fan, at the center of the storm, focused on circulating his breathing technique. The sheer number of blows landing on him simultaneously made it difficult to remodel his body as quickly as he needed.

'This is tougher than when I was inside the elixir cauldron!' he thought, gritting his teeth against the relentless onslaught.

'But retreat was not an option—not now, not ever!'

This was his golden opportunity to break through, and he wasn't about to let it slip away. With every strike, his body remodeling advanced, the progress flashing vividly in his mind:

60% complete... 61%... 62%!

The crowd watched the chaotic scene, some beginning to feel an unexpected sense of pity for the stubborn body cultivator enduring such a beating.

When one wave of attackers grew tired, they retreated to recover their qi, seamlessly replaced by another wave eager to continue the punishment. 

The cycle was relentless, and yet Feng Fan remained standing as if it wasn't his body being beaten.

"Bastard! Let's see how cocky you are now. Today, we'll beat you until you're begging for mercy!" one of the mob shouted, his voice filled with venom.

"Daring to challenge all of us alone? Now, face the consequences!" another added.

Feng Fan, however, paid no attention to their threats. He turned a deaf ear to their shouts, his mind wholly focused on his breathing technique. 

The insults and taunts faded into the background as he concentrated, each breath fueling him closer and closer to his breakthrough!

Feng Fan was eventually forced to the ground, but the mob didn't him go. 

They kept beating him mercilessly for half an hour before their attacks finally ceased.

All around him, the disciples were panting heavily, their breaths ragged from exertion.

"Brothers, stop. This brat must be dead," one of them said, his voice weary yet filled with disdain.

Lying motionless on the ground, Feng Fan assessed the changes in his body. 

His remodeling process had reached 99% completion!

No matter how many more blows they landed, his body would no longer advance. The remodeling had reached its peak for now.

'Just one final step separates me from the 1st Qi Gathering realm,' he thought, a flicker of excitement hidden beneath his battered exterior. 

'These hits can no longer help me, but coming here was the best decision I could've made!'

Even in his disheveled state, a faint smile crept onto Feng Fan's face, unseen by the exhausted crowd surrounding him.

The referee, seeing Feng Fan lying motionless on the ground, prepared to announce the result. 

Just as he was about to speak, Feng Fan stirred. Slowly, he pushed himself off the ground and stood upright, as if the mob's brutal assault had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

The crowd, including those who had mercilessly beaten him, stared in disbelief, their mouths agape.

"H-How is this possible?" someone stammered, their voice trembling with shock.

"This guy is a monster!" another muttered, shaking their head. "What kind of defensive technique is he cultivating? Could it be… an immortal-level technique?"

Whispers spread like wildfire.

"Immortal-level techniques must be terrifying, sure, but could they really let a 1st Body Forging cultivator endure such a beating and stand up as if nothing happened?"

The most unsettling part wasn't just that Feng Fan had gotten up—it was his appearance. 

His body showed no signs of damage. No bruises, no swelling, not even a scratch. It was as if he had merely taken a leisurely walk and returned unscathed.

The crowd's horror deepened as Feng Fan's calm smile spread across his face, exuding confidence.

"Thanks for the treat, everyone. It's only fair I return the favor, don't you think? After all, I wouldn't want anyone saying that I, Feng Fan, am an ungrateful person!"

Feng Fan didn't wait for their response. The moment the words left his lips, he dashed forward like a cheetah on the hunt.

His speed was noticeably sharper, at least 20% faster than before. 

'Even if I faced a 2nd Qi Gathering realm cultivator now, I wouldn't go down so easily,' he thought with confidence.

In the blink of an eye, he closed the gap with his first opponent—no, his first victim—and unleashed his attack.

Family Jewel Destroyer Kick!

The poor disciple's eyes widened in panic as the devastatingly precise kick zeroed in on his most vulnerable spot. 

He scrambled to block or evade, but a chilling realization struck him—no matter how he tried, the trajectory of that kick was inescapable. 

It was as if the attack had a mind of its own, bent on absolute destruction.

Crack!