Chapter 55: So Unyielding!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Meow! Meow! Meow! Meow! Meow!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Meow! Meow! Meow! Meow! Meow!

The crisp sounds of impact echoed through the narrow alley, like stone crashing against steel.

Savage fury surged in Chang Yu’s mind, strength gushing endlessly through his body. He hammered his fist again and again onto the head of the orange tabby.

From the repeated blows, black blood had begun to seep from the cat’s face; its nose and eye sockets were battered out of shape.

Piercing, desperate howls burst from the orange cat’s mouth, like a baby's wail, shrill and hair-raising.

Its skull was as hard as iron; each time Chang Yu punched, it was like striking steel, resounding heavily.

Bright red blood trickled down Chang Yu’s fists; his knuckles were already torn and bleeding from the relentless collisions.

But he paid it no heed, raising his hammer-like fists again and again, raining blows without pause.

How could the orange cat resign itself to being pinned and beaten?

It struggled wildly, with surprising strength—several times, Chang Yu nearly failed to hold it down and almost let it slip away.

Then, abruptly, it stilled. Just as Chang Yu thought he would finally beat the beast to death, a glint of cold light caught the corner of his eye.

It was the tabby’s razor-sharp claw, slicing through the air like the scythe of death, slashing across Chang Yu’s chest.

They were too close; the attack was sudden, giving Chang Yu no time to dodge.

A torrent of agony surged from his chest, sweeping through his entire body. Unable to bear the pain, he finally screamed aloud.

Blood poured from his chest, streaming like rain from the eaves after a storm. It drenched the orange cat beneath him, splattering the ground.

Weakness, dizziness, and numbness swept over him—classic symptoms of severe blood loss. Chang Yu felt utterly drained.

He could no longer grip the cat’s neck; it slipped easily from his grasp.

"Damn it... I just wanted Comrade Osmanthus to witness my valor, but instead, I botched everything," Chang Yu forced a bitter laugh, his body collapsing helplessly to the ground.

The orange tabby was in poor shape too, staggering with every step, its head lolling dizzily from side to side.

After all, the beating it took from Chang Yu wasn’t without consequence.

Katerina herself had once said that Chang Yu’s punch was deadlier than the world champion Tyson’s.

That meant his every blow carried a force far beyond 800 kilograms, easily exceeding a ton—a strength well beyond human limits.

Soon, the cat recovered, its gaze turning bloodthirsty as it glared at the fallen Chang Yu.

Instinct told it the man before it was no longer a threat; now was the perfect time to finish him.

In a flash, it lunged at Chang Yu, claws gleaming coldly, poised to strike at his most vulnerable throat.

Sensing imminent danger, Chang Yu tried desperately to lift himself, to dodge the incoming attack, but his arms were limp and powerless no matter how he struggled. He stood no chance of evading the cat’s fatal blow.

"This body was strengthened by the Poria Heart Sutra—how could that beast injure me so badly?" Chang Yu looked down at the three deep, bone-deep gashes on his chest, watching the blood welling from the wounds, bitterly unwilling.

The first time he cultivated the Poria Heart Sutra, his body had already been refined and cleansed. He had once stabbed himself in the arm with a knife afterward, leaving only a faint white mark.

Though his skin looked normal, only he knew how tough it had become—hard as iron. Even so, he still couldn’t withstand the cat’s claws...

Chang Yu closed his eyes, spent. He had known from the moment he joined the Calamity Investigation Bureau that fighting disasters meant risking his life, but he hadn’t expected death to come so swiftly.

This was his first real battle with a disaster.

Boom!

Just as the orange tabby's claws were about to slice Chang Yu's throat, a swirling azure vortex the size of a goose egg, trailing a long tail, struck the cat’s lower ribs. A violent explosion and shockwave hurled the cat away, its claws missing Chang Yu’s neck.

At the brink of death, Feng Sanpao finally intervened.

A wild gale swept the alley; after the cat, Chang Yu was the most affected.

Being closest to the orange tabby, when Feng Sanpao’s vortex exploded on the cat, Chang Yu was caught in the blast.

The air cannon was powerful—a tremendous force slammed into him, flinging him backward.

Bang!

Like a stone kicked hard by someone, he flew straight back, crashing heavily into the alley wall.

Dazed by the impact, his mind buzzed; his organs trembled violently.

"Feng Sanpao... you bastard! Did you do that on purpose?" Chang Yu tried to curse, but spat up blood instead.

The three deep gashes on his chest bled even more from the violent shaking, as if determined to drain every last drop from his veins.

The sudden turn made his severe injuries even worse. If he’d had half a life left before, now he could barely breathe.

"Sorry about that, bro," Feng Sanpao apologized anxiously. "Although Sakura-chan said using a spiraling attack like Rasengan in a cramped alley was risky, that orange cat was about to take your life—I didn't have time to think. Saving you was the priority. Your injuries might've gotten worse, but at least you’re alive."

"So I should thank you, huh?" Chang Yu forced a smile, stoic beneath the pain.

It was a difficult thing to say sincerely.

"We don’t have time to chat," Katerina said gravely. "It’s still moving."

She referred, of course, to the orange tabby.

Chang Yu looked at the cat—Feng Sanpao’s Rasengan had worked, injuring it.

One side of its body was mangled, leaving it limping. Its twisted half-human, half-feline face was full of pain and fury.

But as long as it could move, it could still kill any one of them.

"My God, is it immortal?" Chang Yu murmured, staring at the cat.

"Can you fire your air cannon again?" Katerina asked Feng Sanpao.

"I can, but I need a bit more time—the charging takes a while," Feng Sanpao replied, hands moving rapidly, palms rubbing together. In his hand, a pea-sized, glowing green vortex flickered and grew steadily.

Katerina took in the situation at a glance—Feng Sanpao’s attack was powerful but slow to charge.

During their lull, the orange tabby gathered itself again. Feng Sanpao’s air cannon wasn’t ready yet.

It scraped the ground twice with its forepaws, then with a powerful push of its hind legs, it leapt into the air—this time, targeting Feng Sanpao, who was still charging his attack.

Katerina frowned, raised her gun, and fired two shots in quick succession.

Having tasted the blue flame’s power, the cat was wary now. It twisted midair, narrowly dodging both bullets, and continued its pounce.

Katerina tried to fire again, finger squeezing the trigger repeatedly, but no shots came.

Her petite pistol could only click uselessly; she’d run out of bullets during the earlier chaos.

The battle was at its most perilous.

With the orange tabby bearing down, there was no time to reload.

Katerina and Feng Sanpao—one a delicate woman, the other a scholarly mage, unfit for close combat.

The only proper shield in the team, Chang Yu, was sprawled on the ground, unable to even lift a finger.

As death loomed and the small squad faced annihilation, Katerina was moments from her own destruction.

Bzzz... bzzz...

Amid the chaos, the whirring sound of an electric motor cut through the air. A tall figure sped into the alley on a three-wheeled electric cart, the kind used by delivery vendors, its wheels rattling noisily.

"I seem to have arrived just in time," the newcomer declared arrogantly. But his words were nothing compared to the overwhelming stench of his feet—a reek that lingered no matter what.

It was like stinky tofu aged for decades, or sour pickled cabbage buried for twenty years—so pungent even the infamous surströmming would admit defeat.

The sourness was unforgettable; one whiff and you’d remember it for life.

The man calmly glanced at the airborne orange tabby, then slowly removed his slipper and hurled it with force.

The foul-smelling sandal whistled through the air, spinning like a meteor as it soared toward the cat.

With a thunderous smack, the sandal struck the cat’s forehead, sending it crashing to the ground.

The stench overwhelmed the cat’s sensitive nose—far more potent than surströmming—leaving it dizzy and reeling.

Glaring hatefully at the offending sandal, it collapsed, foaming at the mouth, eyes rolling back—overpowered by Shi Chengjin’s foot odor.

A cat’s sense of smell is over 200,000 times stronger than a human’s, capable of distinguishing some 20,000 scents. For Shi Chengjin’s sandal, even Chang Yu would struggle to endure it—let alone a creature so olfactorily gifted.

It struggled to rise, but after several failed attempts, only managed to look pitifully bedraggled.

A sandal might not be a weapon—unless, of course, the one who wields it has enough strength.

And if that person’s feet are foul enough, the results could be unexpectedly devastating.

Just look: the orange tabby was knocked senseless by a single, stinking blow.