Six-Armed Battle General Slays King Kong, Internal Energy Kung Fu in Fist King
In the distance, the roar of the Final Creation thundered across the sky, sending tremors through the entire base. For two whole minutes, the explosions never stopped—it was locked in a fierce battle with something. Just thinking about it was enough to make your skin crawl, because honestly, what could possibly last that long against the Final Creation’s rampage? But right now, King Kong had bigger things to worry about.
Blood dripped from the split wound on his fist. With Dragon Elephant Wisdom Art at the tenth level, he wielded the strength of ten elephants, but even in a head-on clash, he’d lost. The Six-Armed Battle General was pure muscle—its fists were literally as hard as steel and rock. Still, King Kong wasn’t about to lose hope. The alien didn’t get the subtleties of Internal Energy, and as his powerful inner force invaded its body, it was bound to do some damage.
He just wasn’t sure how much it would actually hurt the thing.
Swish—the Six-Armed Battle General snatched up its short spears again. In a single punch, it seemed to figure something out, and the light in its three eyes faded from red to yellow, but its killing intent only grew stronger. Next thing you know, BOOM—the ground exploded, and the Six-Armed Battle General charged in, six short spears stabbing with deadly precision, moving so fast it was almost unreal.
King Kong let out a weird yell, using Lightfoot Technique to barely dodge the attack. Buzz—a short spear grazed his scalp, even slicing off some hair. Cold sweat broke out instantly. This alien didn’t know Lightfoot Technique, so it moved straight and fast, but man, it was quick. Six short spears stabbed like rain—simple moves, but sharp as hell. After just a few exchanges, King Kong was feeling the heat.
"Hey, Octopus! Get over here and help out—this guy’s got way too many arms!"
"That’s why science rules," Dr. Octopus shot back, pointing at the Six-Armed Battle General. "Let’s see who’s really got more arms!"
Swish, swish—Dr. Octopus’s mechanical arms sprang into action. These heavily modified arms weren’t the cutesy "part-time fighter, full-time factory worker" type from the movies—they were straight-up killing machines. The ends morphed, instantly transforming into chainsaws, arc welders, machine guns, you name it. Bang bang bang—firepower even heavier than a Gatling gun blasted out, and all the close-combat arms joined the brawl.
But the Six-Armed Battle General just slowed its attack, sprinting to dodge the bullet chains, and in the next instant, it was face-to-face with the chainsaw arm. Its short spear stabbed out—crack!—like a machete splitting bamboo, the spear jabbed straight into the heart of the mechanical arm.
Dr. Octopus’s face changed. That mechanical arm was made from the world’s toughest alloy, way stronger than the movie version. But just like that, a single spear pinned it in midair, totally immobilized.
"Go to hell!" Dr. Octopus waved, and that mechanical arm snapped right off at the base. At the same time, a light flared at the tip, unleashing an explosive force. Boom—red flames engulfed a ten-meter radius. The blast wasn’t huge, but the destruction at the center was brutal.
"That should’ve finished it, right?" Dr. Octopus barely thought it before a cold flash gleamed in the flames. Crack! Another short spear stabbed into a mechanical arm. Five more flashes and five more mechanical arms were wrecked in rapid succession. Dr. Octopus tried to dodge, but as a regular human, he couldn’t even see what was happening. In just seconds, his mechanical arms were basically trashed.
"Damn it!" King Kong shuddered. He’d just been about to charge in, but stopped dead, his face flickering with indecision before he finally stomped his foot and ran for it. He sucked in a deep breath, pouring everything into his Lightfoot Technique. He didn’t know his Dragon Elephant Wisdom Art was the cut-down version, but he did know that without Lightfoot Technique, he’d never outrun that alien.
"Come on, faster!" King Kong sprinted with everything he had, covering hundreds of meters in seconds.
From the flames, the Six-Armed Battle General strolled out without a scratch. The blazing fire didn’t bother it at all. It looked up at the fleeing King Kong, its three eyes flickering with what looked suspiciously like mockery. Then, it casually pulled a short spear from a wrecked mechanical arm, took aim at King Kong’s back, and hurled it.
The short spear whistled through the air, shooting straight at King Kong’s back. In a flash, it was right behind him. King Kong’s ears twitched—he spun, shouted, and clapped his arms together, catching the spear barehanded with a loud smack.
"This thing’s heavy!" King Kong gritted his teeth and staggered back a few steps, but he managed to catch the attack. He looked up, just in time to see the Six-Armed Battle General slap its belt—and vanish. A split second later, the sound of a heavy punch tearing through the air came from behind. King Kong whipped around in terror, only to be greeted by six jet-black fists and a face like the Grim Reaper.
Thud thud thud—the sounds of heavy blows rang out nonstop as King Kong and the Six-Armed Battle General clashed with explosive force.
"Aaaah!" King Kong, covered in blood, lost it—he couldn’t run, so all he could do was throw wild punches in return.
But as they say, two fists are no match for four hands—never mind six. And the Six-Armed Battle General had more than just hands. Stronger, faster, and with way better technique than King Kong. Every move was sharp, ruthless, and precise—clearly a hardened warrior who’d danced with death more than once. Next to the Six-Armed Battle General, King Kong was just a lucky brute, all guts and no style, totally outclassed.
Crack! King Kong’s teeth went flying, blood pouring down his face—enough to make Dr. Octopus break out in a cold sweat just watching. With the last bit of strength, King Kong grabbed two of the Six-Armed Battle General’s hands and dumped all his Internal Energy straight into its body. If you can’t win head-on, attack its weak spot with your best move—this was King Kong’s last-ditch plan.
But Dr. Octopus wasn’t betting on him. Panicked, he hurried to detach his mechanical arms. "I can’t die here—I’ve got too much ahead of me, no way I’m getting taken out by this random freak! The return window’s almost here, just need to hold out a little longer—" He’d barely run two steps when—thwack!—a cold short spear punched right through his chest, bursting out the front.
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"Ugh..." Blood dribbled from his mouth as Dr. Octopus turned, unwilling, just in time to see the Six-Armed Battle General grab King Kong’s head, twist it 180 degrees with a crack, and yank it clean off.
A fountain of blood shot three meters high, spraying like a celebration. In the bloody rain, the Six-Armed Battle General swayed for a moment—King Kong’s Internal Energy surge had done something, but only barely. It steadied itself, weighed King Kong’s head in its hand, debating whether to keep it. In the end, it decided the head wasn’t worth collecting and tossed it aside.
King Kong’s head rolled through the dust, face twisted in frustration. He’d gotten an incredible stroke of luck, had the guts and cunning to make it big—should’ve soared to the top. But now he was just a mangled head, dying in total obscurity.
The Six-Armed Battle General strode over to Dr. Octopus, yanked out the short spear, and scanned his body with yellow light. Then it stabbed another spear into Dr. Octopus’s lower back—boom! Something seemed to explode, and the supposedly dead Dr. Octopus suddenly jolted and let out a bone-chilling scream. He’d used tech to relocate his vital organs, but even that couldn’t save him.
After retrieving all its short spears, the Six-Armed Battle General’s three eyes turned blue. In no time, it had swept through almost all the Chosen Ones in the wormhole zone. Now it had one last, and also its first, mission: to bring back a sample of the Final Creation.
Just then, the Final Creation let out a piercing howl from afar. The roar was filled with desperation and terror—the ultimate cry of a life on the edge.
Beep beep—the Six-Armed Battle General’s three eyes flashed as it strode off toward the Final Creation.
—————————— The dividing line of King Kong’s skull ——————————
Flashback to a minute ago—while Dr. Octopus and King Kong were just realizing how scary the Six-Armed Battle General was, things on Yang Qi’s side were getting wild.
"Could this thing get any more ridiculous?!" Yang Qi yelled, frantically piloting Hell Fist King, jumping, dodging left and right. She knew the Final Creation wouldn’t last much longer, she knew it was missing its left arm, and she knew that no matter how long its reach, it wasn’t infinite—just get out of range and you could sit back and eat popcorn.
What she didn’t know was just how hard it was to deal with the Final Creation! Even something as simple as "getting out of its attack range" was nearly impossible!
Does having a big head mean it’s smart too? Yang Qi felt like she was playing an insanely hard action game—the win condition and strategy were obvious, but actually pulling it off was enough to make you grind your teeth. Rolling, ducking, lunging, leaping—Yang Qi was barely keeping herself alive, eyes everywhere, ears everywhere. All those so-called "safe zones" looked great, but she just couldn’t reach them.
"Ugh, what I hate most is when a mech can’t keep up with my reflexes!"
The Final Creation’s hand speed was freakishly fast—none of that slow-motion giant monster stuff. Compared to that, Hell Fist King felt clumsy and slow. In every "underdog beats the odds" story, the weak side has to be quicker, or there’s no fight at all. But right now, Yang Qi felt like she was playing a twitch game where one hit means instant death, but her character was a bumbling koala.
Any other sixth-gen mech would’ve gone down in five seconds flat. The fact that Yang Qi lasted this long was already impressive.
But no matter how good your reflexes, if you don’t have the power, you’re not winning anything.
Thud. Crack. The Final Creation kept slamming away, and the reinforced metal plates holding its special bio-pool finally gave in, groaning as cracks spread across them. Hell Fist King dodged a blow and tried to run, but the ground under its right foot suddenly gave way.
In that instant, Hell Fist King staggered and tilted just a bit. Normally, that kind of slip wouldn’t matter—a quick move and you’d be fine. But Yang Qi shrieked, "Oh come on! Are you trying to kill me?!" The next moment, a giant claw sliced through the air and grabbed Hell Fist King in a death grip.
"Raaawr!" The Final Creation let out a mocking roar, hoisting Hell Fist King up to its face. Hell Fist King struggled, twisted, flames blazing and burning the giant claw, fists pounding its joints—but none of it worked. The Final Creation wasn’t letting go. It dragged Hell Fist King toward its gaping mouth, jagged teeth flashing and reeking, ready to chew it up and swallow it whole.
There’s... nothing left to try...
Yang Qi sighed—she was out of options. All she could do now was eject from the mech. Humans were so tiny compared to the Final Creation, maybe it wouldn’t even notice her. Plus, it wouldn’t last much longer—if she could just hold out a little longer, she’d win.
But—
"I don’t want to give up this mech!" This Fist King was built to her specs, named by her, piloted by her. Four months of fighting and training, Yang Qi had even personally fixed it up. She’d danced with it, joked with it, basked in its glory. Out on the ocean, throwing a punch with Fist King felt unstoppable—that power shook her to the core, gave her ideas about her future.
Fist King was a machine, but not just a machine. After all they’d been through, even a machine becomes a companion. Unless it’s truly hopeless, she would never give up! The Final Creation’s mouth gaped wide, danger looming, but Yang Qi decided to try one more time. Even if it was pointless, she’d fight to the end—anything less would betray her own heart.
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"Let go—NOW!" Yang Qi roared, and Fist King raised its iron fist again. As she smashed it down, a strange ripple stirred in her mind. Something weird spread from her mental sea, making her feel almost dizzy for a moment.
Every time the neural link was activated, the twins’ minds would connect, with the main consciousness always covering the subconscious. In combat, training, everything, Teacher Yang just quietly supported, taking the mental hits, never making decisions or forming thoughts. But as this punch landed, a thought rose from the depths of the frozen lake in her mind, like a spark of starlight, reflecting back into Yang Qi’s awareness.
"What the—!" Yang Qi’s eyes went wide. "Is this... Dumb Log’s ‘idea’?!"
Usually, Teacher Yang was just a walking database—no defenses against Yang Qi, but never any ideas. But in that instant, a spark lit up in his eyes, and his thought came through. Simple, pure, crystal clear. After a moment of shock, Yang Qi decided to trust him.
Didn’t matter how or why the idea appeared—she trusted him, because they were one and the same!
Thud—Hell Fist King’s punch slammed into the back of the Final Creation’s hand. Not the joint, not a weak spot, not anywhere you’d call a vulnerability. But suddenly, the Final Creation’s fingers loosened—it just couldn’t help but let go.
"Rooaaar!" The Final Creation’s roar was full of shock and rage as it lunged for the falling Fist King. But this time, facing the massive claw, Yang Qi just smiled. Grinning at Teacher Yang, she shouted, amazed and excited, "How’d you do that? You actually made Fist King use Advanced Internal Martial Arts?!"
Teacher Yang didn’t answer, but his eyes sparkled. Fist King, hanging in midair, drew its fist to its waist, steady even as the wind howled. Just before the giant claw struck, the spinning fist shot out, blazing with fire and lightning.