Chapter 102: See you at the final

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Han Sen had made up his mind to practice Bladestorm in the contest by using Bladestorm only when facing his opponents. If others dared to do this, they might have died a million deaths already. But Han Sen was in sacred-blood armor, so hardly any attack was fatal to him. That was why he could practice in the contest.

Han Sen had given up on using his mutant sawfish spear. Without good spear skills, this weapon was useless in front of these champions.

Fighting opponents of different styles, Han Sen had made great progress and his Bladestorm got better and better–as long as his opponent was not too fearsome, he could always cope with using just Bladestorm, but it was always the bloody slayer that got him the victory.

This way, Han Sen’s matches had become very hard to watch. He was always winning by a narrow margin and there were times it seemed that he was about to lose.

And there were two matches in which his opponents had already been seriously injured in their last rounds and were thus easily defeated by Han Sen. Everyone thought he got lucky.

The negative reports about Dollar were overwhelming. And in particular, the high praise Fang Mingquan sang in Contest Center fanned the flames.

Fang Mingquan was talking through his hat—as an evolver who could not even enter First God’s Sanctuary, he managed analyze so much from his reporters’ oral account alone. In general, he was saying Dollar was invincible, everything was in control and Dollar would be the final winner.

This of course had attracted much hatred toward Fang Mingquan and Contest Center. It chanced that although Dollar’s matches were never fun to watch, he had never lost either, which supported Fang’s claim.

The criticism got worse and worse. Especially those who were optimistic about Yi Dongmu were sniffy about everything Fang said and objected each day.

Yi Dongmu was still keeping a formidable record. In two consecutive rounds he was able to kill his opponents in one blow, causing many of his following opponents to quit the matches against him.

In three consecutive rounds, all his opponents threw in the towel, which made Yi’s fame peak. Many media were running lengthy features about him and many predicted he would be the final champion this year.

He had even stolen Tang Zhenliu and Lin Feng’s thunder.

As for the Contest Center, Fang Mingquan and Dollar, they had become a big joke in the press.

“Dollar will win” had become a popular spoof this year, as an irony, of course.

Some people found that Yi Dongmu and Han Sen would meet before one became the Chosen and posted the finding on the Skynet, which caused a heated discussion.

“I sincerely pray every day that Dollar had to keep winning so that he could meet Yi Dongmu, who will teach him what a master looks like.”

“Ha-ha, funny! I agree, God bless Dollar!”

“Bless Dollar!”

“Bless Dollar!”

…

“Bless Dollar” had also become a buzzword, and was seen everywhere in the comments of all sorts of programs about the contest.

Especially in the online community of Contest Center, “bless Dollar” would flood the screen every day.

Han Sen knew about this, but did not react at all. He never thought of Yi as his equal.

In the Han Sen’s view, the likelihood of Yi Dongmu winning Tang was less than 30 percent, and if Yi met Lin Feng, he would stand no chance.

The opponent Han Sen really cared about was Lin Feng. These days he had seen many matches and had a general understanding of most contestants, among whom he felt Lin Feng was the most formidable.

This quiet and gentle man made him feel unpredictable. His every move seemed very natural but followed a strange rhythm. Han Sen’s prejudgment was quite good, but he was unable to predict Lin’s rhythm, which scared him.

Han Sen had seen every match of Lin Feng’s and almost all the matches were closely-fought. Lin was always winning by a small margin. Almost all Lin’s opponents performed outstandingly and they all lost nonetheless. It felt so strange that Han Sen cringed.

“Formidable guy,” Han Sen commented. He knew his techniques and strength were both weaker than Lin. Luckily he would not meet Lin before top 10, or else he was not sure if he could become the Chosen.

Tang was still practicing how to avoid Han Sen’s attacks in a close fight. He was not making much progress though.

But Lin Feng said if Tang met Yi Dongmu, Yi would not be much of a threat to Tang, which was close to Han Sen’s judgment—Yi didn’t get the essence of the art of assassination, so he could hardly beat Tang.

Perhaps the phrase “bless Dollar” played a role here. In the next rounds, Han Sen’s opponents either were badly injured or lost important beast souls in the previous rounds and some even had accidents in the Alliance. It took Han Sen no effort to keep rising. Even Han Sen himself felt quite incredible.

Those fans of the Yi Dongmu gave Hen Sen another nickname “Lucky D,” taunting his lack of real skill.

One day, after the end of a match, Han Sen came down from the stage and saw Lin Feng finishing his match as well. Their stages were close, so Lin saw him and to his surprise, walked toward him.

Many around them had noticed this scene. After all, Lin Feng was the runner-up last year. although his performance was not that brilliant this year, he was still a favorite. Also, Han Sen had been the center of attention for a while.

Lin Feng approached Han Sen. He smiled and reached out a hand, “Always wanted to say hello to you, but never had a chance.”

“Same here.” Han Sen shook his hand.

Lin seemed to be satisfied with this, and said, “See you at the final.”

Lin turned away, but his words stunned everyone who was listening, as if they had seen a 12.0 magnitude earthquake.