Super Soldier in the City

Chapter 1729 - 1781: Clouds Stir Across All Sides

Not far from the African chief, there was another group of people. These people also had an eastern appearance, but with one glance, it was clear they were definitely not Huaxia People, because their features were too distinct, like the northern Chinese’s big flatbread, commonly referred to as flatbread face. The group was muttering loudly in Korean, drawing frequent glares from others nearby.However, this group was evidently unaware of their surroundings. One of them, looking dissatisfied and with a noticeable pout, said, "Let me tell you, I came here because I was bored and wanted to walk around. As for that Golden Eagle, that Satan, they are nothing in my eyes. The winner will be the number one in the world? Nonsense!"

The man spoke angrily, appearing to be in his thirties or forties—an age not considered young but also not old. The man had an upturned nose, and as he spoke, he raised his head, exposing his large nostrils.

He spat, and it landed several meters away. Next to him, a slightly younger man stomped his foot, impatiently chiming in, "Exactly, it’s just a fight between two amateurs, yet they are praised as world-class. It’s truly shameless. I heard that Satan is a black devil, as ugly as can be, and that Golden Eagle isn’t much better. He might have some fame, but I don’t believe he’s stronger than our national master."

"Come on, Park Ilseung, what’s wrong with your brain? How can that nonsense Golden Eagle and that Satan be compared with the national master? You’re insulting the master! If you dare to say that again, I’ll hit you right now!" The man with the upturned nose immediately became displeased, raising his hand and slapping Park Ilseung’s head, scolding him, "What do they count for? I’m not joking with you. Have you ever seen the national master in action? That’s authentic Korean Kung Fu, handed down for thousands of years without interruption. It’s the purest, most authentic. When the national master takes action, no one in the world can oppose him. In the war years, the national master alone held off tens of thousands of enemies, protecting the homeland..."

"Cough, cough, Master Che, let’s lower our voices, we’re disturbing others!" Another slightly older man had no choice but to hold back the boastful Master Che, speaking softly.

When Master Che spoke, he elevated Korea’s history to thousands of years. Fortunately, those around them couldn’t understand, otherwise, there’d definitely be laughter.

Master Che glanced around and indeed noticed many looking at them with dissatisfaction. His mouth twitched, holding back further words. He raised his hand to check the watch on his wrist and realized it was almost noon. He couldn’t help but complain, "When are they going to start fighting? Neither of them is here yet; what kind of attitude is this? If this were in Korea, they’d be disqualified long ago for not respecting time or elders. What kind of future can such people have?"

"Haha!" Several Koreans nearby chuckled coldly, nodding in agreement. The elder among them laughed but did not respond, instead thinking, "They have the skill not to respect the rules. More importantly, they didn’t beg us to come watch. There are dozens to hundreds of people here—everyone came on their own, and more are still arriving. By the time they start fighting, there could be hundreds."

The Koreans came to observe the duel between Li Yifei and Satan, to assess their strength. Yet, with their inherent arrogance and disregard for others, Koreans would never admit another country has top fighters. Master Che is a typical example, thinking his country is the world’s strongest, no country with stronger fighters than Korea. Yet, a neighboring country’s strength must be considered—this country, inherently insecure to an extreme degree, loves to claim good things for themselves, even naming itself the Republic of Korea, though its geographical size is smaller than one larger province of Huaxia. One wonders who should pity whom.

The group’s shouting had already caused dissatisfaction. Feeling the warning gazes, the most vociferous Koreans unconsciously lowered their voices, especially since those glaring were Europeans and Americans, whom Koreans dare not provoke.

Across the way, Mig had already arrived with a group. This time, he was low-key without overwhelming the venue as he usually did. Behind him were a dozen people in uniform attire, not military garb, but clearly soldiers by their demeanor.

The group’s faces were expressionless, their looks severe. They were tall and muscular, exuding a sense of seriousness and danger. Standing behind Mig, they seemed like a mountain from afar, and no one dared stay within dozens of meters around them, unable to withstand their aura.

Mig had an arranged duel with Li Yifei that hadn’t materialized. Over the past year, Mig had improved significantly, his progress not minor. He initially planned to challenge each of the newly emerged world-level fighters one by one. Before he could act, he heard of Satan’s upcoming fight with Golden Eagle, so he waited for this day, organized his crew to secure a spot and prepared to observe Li Yifei and Satan’s abilities.

Such top fighters are rare, and for Mig, the history on U.S. soil—too scarce—is unlike Huaxia’s, where martial arts and techniques have been passed down for five thousand years or more. In the U.S., there is only scientific training and various supplements. Therefore, he differs from those cultivated fighters; he desires to challenge skillful opponents to enhance himself.

This nature is entrenched in his genes, exciting Mig whenever he thinks about it.

The people he brought were selected from various units, the strongest soldier kings. These men not only witnessed bloodshed but had experienced warfare, representing the finest strength of the U.S. military. This time, they were brought by Mig, hoping they would witness real strong fighters in battle and gain insights. Such opportunities are very rare.

Mig also greatly desired to see the representative of Huaxia, the nation with the largest population and possibly one of the largest armies globally, the strongest person from there, and the representative of Europe’s current strongest, in action—to see what kind of battle it would be.

The fight over a year ago was thrilling for Mig, but he eagerly anticipated this battle even more, because... he was going to challenge the victor between them. That person was worthy of his challenge!

With this thought, standing there, Mig felt a vague excitement in his heart, barely suppressing his yearning to see these two individuals.

"What kind of surprise will they bring me? I’m very much looking forward to it!" Mig’s lips moved slightly, whispering softly.