Chapter 167 One-Second Instant Kill

Time quickly reached nine o’clock, and the first match officially began.

Wei Zijun, dressed in the silver cloud-patterned team uniform, slowly stepped onto the competition stage. Having never in his life seen so many people watching him at once, a trace of nervousness was inevitable in his eyes. His hands clenched slightly, his knuckles turning pale. Standing at one side of the arena, his body was a little tense, his ears and cheeks faintly flushed red, making him look shy and reserved.

On the other side, the South Korean team sent out the very same player who had made those arrogant remarks yesterday. His face was full of hostility, his gaze fierce as he stared straight at Wei Zijun. His entire demeanor radiated aggression, as if he might charge forward at any moment and knock Wei Zijun to the ground to “prove” his claims with strength.

The contrast between the two was striking—one like a wild beast, the other like a timid little rabbit—instantly making people anxious about how the match would turn out.

Wasn’t this supposed to be the weakest member of the Chinese team?

Didn’t he look… a bit too weak?

Many people instinctively turned their puzzled gazes toward Coach Miao Yunyou, who was resting in the waiting area.

But the moment they saw the scene there, everyone was stunned—their jaws nearly dropped to the floor!

The coach who had looked so composed and commanding at yesterday’s event was now wrapped in a bulky black down jacket, bundled up like a dumpling. She held a fluffy electric hand warmer in her hands, both tucked into her coat pockets, with a thermos placed beside her.

Her head tilted slightly, her eyes lazy, her expression utterly relaxed, even carrying a hint of nonchalance.

How did she look like a coach leading a team into competition? She looked more like someone who had come just to watch the show!

It even felt like she might pull out her phone at any moment to scroll videos or play games—completely devoid of any tension!

Well, it couldn’t be helped. The outfits made by Wen Xiuning were indeed beautiful, but for the sake of flexibility and ease in combat, they were made quite thin.

At least for Miao Yunyou… they were far too thin.

After all, it was still winter!

During yesterday’s event, she had relied on sticking multiple heat packs on her body just to endure the cold.

So today, she decisively threw on a down jacket over everything. After all, she didn’t need to compete—she could just quietly sit in the rest area as a “lucky charm” and wait for her team members to return victorious.

Everyone: “………………”

“Oh my god, are you serious? The country actually sent this kind of person?!”

“She can even be a coach?!”

“It’s over, it’s over. The coach looks unreliable, and the player looks so weak—we’re definitely going to lose badly!”

“If the Korean player wins, we’ll be embarrassed on an international level!”

“Sigh!!!”

The livestream chat exploded with doubts. The earlier concern had now completely turned into dissatisfaction, and the screen was flooded with complaints—

【Help! Is this a joke? This is so unprofessional!】

【I knew it! A rich second-gen leading the team—no seriousness at all!】

【That player looks so fragile, and the Korean opponent is so fierce—this is definitely a loss, how embarrassing!】

Looking closer, some viewers even noticed that the hand warmer and thermos in Miao Yunyou’s hands had a cute chibi-style cloud-patterned leopard cat printed on them—clearly merchandise from the resort!

【What the heck is this? Such a big event and you’re here livestreaming to sell products?】

【I’m speechless—who even selected these people?!】

【If they can win this, I’ll livestream myself showering upside down.】

Seeing this scene, the South Korean coach and players showed mocking smiles. That arrogant Korean player even made a face at Wei Zijun, the disdain in his eyes growing stronger—as if victory was already in his grasp.

The referee stood between the two and swept his gaze over them before shouting:

“Ready—begin!”

The moment his voice fell, the Korean player burst forward like a beast breaking free of its chains. His fist clenched tightly, carrying overwhelming force as it smashed straight toward Wei Zijun’s chest. His speed was so fast it left only an afterimage, the wind howling from the strike. The power behind it was enough to shatter a wooden board—he clearly intended to knock Wei Zijun out with a single brutal blow to “prove” his strength.

Everyone held their breath, expecting an intense battle to unfold.

But unexpectedly—

Wei Zijun simply shifted his body slightly, effortlessly dodging the punch. At the same time, he raised his hand and delivered a light palm strike, precisely landing on the Korean player’s shoulder.

The strike looked gentle, yet concealed immense force and technique, directly hitting the opponent’s center of balance—without a single unnecessary movement.

Thud!

With a dull sound, the Korean player’s balance collapsed instantly. His body flew backward like a kite with its string cut. His eyes rolled back, and before he could even let out a cry, he lost consciousness on the spot.

His eyes shut tightly, limbs stiff, his body collapsing onto the ground like a lifeless sack—completely motionless, without even the slightest struggle.

It all happened far too quickly.

Just one second.

The entire venue fell into a deathly silence—you could hear a pin drop.

Everyone was stunned, their faces filled with disbelief. Eyes wide, mouths agape, some so shocked they forgot to breathe for several seconds.

The audience stood frozen in place, looking at each other in confusion and shock, unable to believe what they had just witnessed—

“Wait… what just happened? Did I see that wrong?”

“My eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, right? One second? He’s down already?”

“No way… I didn’t even see clearly and it’s over? That’s way too fast!”

“This isn’t a match—it’s a total crush! A one-hit knockout!”

Murmurs gradually spread, starting as whispers before growing louder. Everyone was overwhelmed by this sudden reversal, the shock on their faces lingering.

Even the crowd outside the venue stood on tiptoe, craning their necks, asking those nearby in confusion to confirm they hadn’t missed anything important.

What just happened? Did someone hit fast-forward? How could it end so quickly?

In the livestream, the scrolling comments froze for three seconds—then exploded completely. The refresh rate became so fast it was impossible to read, the entire screen filled with “???????”

All the previous doubts were instantly drowned out—

【66666666! Did I see that right? A one-second knockout? That’s insane!】

【HAHAHA this is too good! The Korean guy bragged so much, and got knocked out in one second—so satisfying!】

【Where are those who said the Chinese team was just for show? Come out now! Is THIS just for show? This is absolute dominance!】

【Coach Miao is amazing! She said she’d send the weakest first, and he’s already this strong—how strong are the others?!】

【Didn’t someone say they’d livestream showering upside down?】

【I take back what I said! Coach Miao clearly had everything under control—sitting there in her down jacket watching calmly because she knew they’d win!】

【I don’t care about anything else—I’m sold on the products now. Hurry up and drop the link for that thermos and hand warmer!】