I have an Apocalypse City

Chapter 214 - 214: The Han Sword

Chapter 214: Chapter 214: The Han Sword

Translator: 549690339

As he entered the top floor hall, Song Jian discovered that the interior was decorated similar to an NBA arena, with a boxing ring in the center, almost twice the size of an ordinary one. Above the ring was a projection television, displaying the ongoing fight on the ring.

Surrounding the ring were tiered seats. There were not many spectators at the moment, only about a third of the seats were occupied.

On the ring, two boxers were engaged in a fierce battle. Song Jian squinted his eyes, realizing both fighters were not wearing any defensive gear or boxing gloves.

“How is it, pretty realistic, isn’t it? Only a place like this is perfect for you!” Wu Xuan exclaimed passionately, pointing at the ring, “As soon as you walked in here today, 1 could tell right away. You’re not like Old Man Gu, or any of the trainers at the gym. They may have been on the battlefield before, but do they still have a shred of their warrior spirit left?”

“Even Old Man Gu, all he’s doing now is taking care of his health. Studying swordsmanship with him is simply a waste for you!” stated Wu Xuan.

Song Jian looked at Wu Xuan in surprise. He had felt the same way when he was practicing with Old Man Gu. Thus, he didn’t hesitate to leave. He didn’t expect Wu Xuan to have noticed this. This guy had a sharp eye.

“Surprised, huh?” Wu Xuan laughed, “In our line of work, we rely on these two eyes. If you decide you want to step into the ring, just let me know. Without a manager to introduce you, you can’t get on that ring!”

“So, you’re my manager now?” Song Jian joked.

“Well, a man’s got to eat!” Wu Xuan nodded, laughing.

“Alright, sign me up for a match if there’s one that uses weapons. But, I don’t have a suitable weapon right now. You have to find me a sword, a good quality one. Also, what if… what if I accidentally take someone’s life here…” Song Jian hesitated.

Upon hearing Song Jian’s willingness to participate, Wu Xuan’s eyes lit up and he quickly waved his hand, saying: “Don’t worry, this place has robust backing. But you also need to be careful. If you really end up broken here, it’s…”

Song Jian just nodded, saying nothing more.

Wu Xuan patted Song Jian on the shoulder, instructed him to wait, and then rushed off to the office nearby. In no time, Wu Xuan returned to Song Jian’s side.

“I’ve notified them. You’ll be able to play after two more matches. This is the information about your opponent. Take a look!” Wu Xuan handed Song Jian a sheet of A4 paper with the opponent’s details printed on it.

“In terms of weapons, you’ll have to choose your own. Most athletes bring their own weapons. Even though the weapons here are of decent quality, it’s always better to use your own weapons since you’re accustomed to them. We still have time now, so we could go and pick it up…” Wu Xuan hesitated.

Waving his hand, Song Jian said: “I’m good with the weapons here.”

“Alright, follow me to choose a weapon!” Wu Xuan instructed, leading Song Jian down the corridor to a room next door.

The room was lined with racks of equipment filled with various weapons. A man in his twenties was sitting behind a wooden desk by the door, playing on his computer.

“Xiao Hui, it’s your shift today, huh!” Wu Xuan handed over a voucher, and sneakily slipped in a pack of cigarettes.

“Hey brother Wu, found another good fighter?” Xiao Hui lifted his eyes to look at Wu Xuan and then glanced at Song Jian, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Hi, let us pick a good sword first, we’re short on time.” Wu Xuan hastily replied, clearly embarrassed.

“Fine, second row on the far left. Go pick one yourself. The company just received a new batch, the quality is not bad!” Xiao Hui casually pointed to the left.

“Alright, you get back to work. We’ll have a look over there!” Wu Xuan pulled Song Jian towards the direction Xiao Hui pointed.

When they arrived at the designated place, there were three rows of weaponry racks filled with all types of long swords.

“Go ahead and pick one Song Jian, whichever feels right!” Wu Xuan instructed.

Song Jian reached for the closest sword, withdrawing it from its sheath to inspect it more closely. All of these swords looked as though they had just been forged. They were sharp but seemed unused.

He gently flicked his finger against the blade and “crack,” a tiny crack spread across the blade from where he had hit it.

“What kind of junk is this!” Song Jian’s expression instantly darkened. He returned the sword to its sheath, placed it back onto the rack.

Standing aside, Wu Xuan was also taken aback, murmuring, “Impossible, how can there be such poor quality? The kickback must have been quite vicious this time.”

Song Jian continued to test several swords, cracking them one after another; he was growing impatient.

“Eh, this one’s not bad!” Song Jian withdrew another sword. This one was somewhat heavier than the previous ones, the blade appeared to be long and narrow, ground into eight facets.

With a light flick, a clear resonance rang out as the blade vibrated, reflecting light like a pool of clear water.

“I’ll take this one!” Song Jian returned the sword into its sheath, holding it in his hand with a satisfied smile showing on his face.

“As long as you’re comfortable with it!” Wu Xuan sighed in relief. The quality of weapons is crucial in a weapons match. An ineffective weapon could greatly diminish a fighter’s capabilities.

After waiting for more than an hour, it was finally Song Jian’s turn. At this point, there were many blood stains on the ring, being wiped away by three or four service personnel. Only after ten or so minutes was the ring finally cleaned.

Stepping on the hard rubber mat of the ring, Song Jian could still smell a faint scent of blood. He felt a chilling sensation in his heart. Once you step on this ring, it’s a matter of life and death. Even if you survive, you would have sustained serious injuries, and might end up spending the rest of your life on a bed or wheelchair.

Song Jian took a deep breath, fixing his eyes on a man clad in a white long robe, clutching a long knife in his arms and a shorter one hanging on his waist. He stood tall, his gaze icy cold.

He remained oblivious to the commentary from the announcer or the noise from the audience. The only thing in his eyes was his opponent.

“Why does this guy look somewhat like a Japanese?” Song Jian squinted, looking the opponent up and down.

Ding-

“The match begins!”

At the sound of the clear bell, the man in the white robe drew out his long knife and charged towards Song Jian, shouting as he went.

“Shit, a katana. He really is Japanese!” Song Jian squinted and pressed the spring on his right hand – a portion of the sheath popped out immediately.

He threw the sheath forwards with his left hand. The sheath flew towards the opponent swiftly like an arrow.

“Tyson!” The Japanese man swung his katana forwards suddenly, cleaving the sheath into two. The sheer force of the killer intent was overwhelming.

Song Jian swung his sword single-handedly, charging forwards whilst perpetually rotating his wrist. The long sword in his hand was as light as a wisp of smoke, emitting a low whistling sound.

“Die!” Upon seeing the Japanese man head on, Song Jian waved his right hand and struck his long sword viciously towards his opponent’s head.