Era of Magic and Martial Arts

Ren Xuan, Tang An, and Deng Jiajia were entrusted with a dangerous mission. Each carrying a camera like it was a bundle of explosives, they bravely left the office.

Tang An twisted his hefty body, his head covered in cold sweat, his steps as heavy as if he were trudging through a swamp.

Mumbling softly as he walked, he said, "This isn’t going to shoot news; it’s going to shoot our own obituaries..."

Ren Xuan’s face alternated between expressions; he gritted his teeth and forced a smile that was more painful than crying, walking in the middle.

Though Deng Jiajia was terrified, when she passed the corridor and saw the "Golden Microphone" trophy in the glass window, her gaze suddenly turned resolute.

She pictured herself standing on the podium, a fierce look crossing her face as she dashed forward with the camera.

At the corridor entrance, Wang Cong, with a larger gourd on his back, stepped aside slightly to make way for the young people heading toward their future.

There was an inscrutable smile on his face as he watched the backs of the three young people, as if he saw shadows of himself at different stages in their backs.

As a representative of the warden Qian Huan, he had just been to the Bright Group to express sincere thanks to General Manager Lu Chenjia.

Then, under the careful guidance and enthusiastic introduction of President Lu’s secretary, he came to Light Prism TV Station to seek cooperation.

Originally, as per Warden Qian Huan’s instructions, he was supposed to engage with three other TV stations simultaneously for a comprehensive comparison to select the most ideal partner.

But now, Wang Cong felt it was unnecessary.

"The young people at Light Prism TV Station are very courageous, the director has excellent taste, the station head is very decisive. In short, the temperament this TV station exudes aligns perfectly with our Second Prison and the [Octagonal Cage Beast Fighting] plan."

Wang Cong was someone who placed great importance on first impressions; he instantly took a liking to Light Prism TV Station.

...

In front of countless households’ TVs, innumerable audience members either were already in front of the live broadcast or frantically switched channels to Light Prism TV Station.

They were fully engrossed, eyes unblinking, staring intently at the screen filled with a blood mist, as if waiting for a heart-stopping unveiling.

Because it was a live broadcast, there was no post-production mosaic nor [adult protection mode] filters. The bloodstains on the screen hadn’t been meticulously processed into bright pixel particles, and severed limbs hadn’t been blurred into green obscurities.

Everything was so raw and primitive, filled with a nauseating authenticity.

Yet numerous viewers held their breath, eyes widened, fearing they’d miss even a single second of detail.

Some even forcefully swallowed back the nausea in their throats, as if going to the restroom meant missing out on an earth-shattering scene.

Perhaps, this was the best portrayal of a whole process without a "gag point".

As if the TV station had heard the hearts of thousands of viewers, the screen suddenly showed a slight shake.

Then, the camera began to slowly zoom in, the blood mist gradually being peeled away—it must have been a drone fearlessly charging in, just to bring the audience a zero-distance shocking perspective.

The drone: "..." Light Prism TV Station owes me a "Golden Microphone"!

The drone dove down, and the moment the camera swept by, it captured the surrounding background of the blood mist.

Even though that chaotic scene was just a flash, Wang Xiuli covered her mouth in incredulity, her heart squeezing tightly.

She seemed to have seen the familiar figure of her own son.

"Not just my daughter, my son, my son is also on the scene?!!"

Wang Xiuli instinctively tightened her grip on the remote, as if doing so she could pull her children out from the TV.

Her head seemed to split open in panic: "Aside from me, is the rest of the family all on TV?"

Wang Xiuli didn’t dare call her daughter, because her daughter was running from a monster, a ringtone would alert the monster.

She called Feng Ju several times, but it was always a busy signal, with no idea whether he was dead or alive.

In a mix of fright and hope, Wang Xiuli clutched at a straw, her trembling hand dialing Feng Mu’s phone.

Her fingers could barely tap the screen correctly, her mouth eagerly uttering:

"Answer the phone, quickly answer the phone..."

Unlike Feng Ju, who prioritized his career, Feng Mu was truly a family-sooing son who would never miss his mother’s call.

All around was chaos and disorder, the crowd jostling and trampling, even the Martial Arts key class teachers and students were panic-stricken and fleeing for their lives, making one doubt where their martial arts had gone.

"Get out of the way for me!" a furious roar sounded.

A burly student, like an iron lump, charged forward like a wild bull, knocking several weaker juniors to the ground.

Then, he charged precisely towards where Feng Mu stood.

Feng Mu stood his ground, calm and composed, slowly pulling out the vibrating phone from his pocket.

Guan Chong stood firmly by Feng Mu’s side, holding a gun that had been sneaked past security, without hesitation raising the gun and aiming forward.

Before Guan Chong could pull the trigger, Gong Qi had already appeared ghost-like in front.

He lightly tapped the ground with one foot, and his figure shot to the side of the burly student in an instant.

Using the student’s charging force, Gong Qi’s hands emerged like two venomous snakes from his sleeves, sinisterly coiling around the student’s arms.

Crack—

A crisp bone-breaking sound echoed, the student’s arms snapped under Gong Qi’s deft maneuvering, like fragile twigs, hanging limply at his sides.

His face still wore a look of astonishment, as if not yet realizing what had happened.

Gong Qi’s face broke into a playful grin, his toe rigidly straight, kicking the student’s chin forcefully.

The student immediately soared through the air, his body tracing a beautiful parabolic arc, like a handkerchief ball being tossed towards a nearby monster.

The monster, drenched in blood, was having a grand time.

Suddenly, it turned as if it had eyes on its back, reaching out with an arm as thick as the iron-student’s waist, catching the student mid-air.

Though it was unclear who had sent the "gift" to it, the monster politely cracked a smile to its surroundings, mumbling indistinctly:

"Shei—Shei—" (ps: Thanks~)

The student hadn’t even had time to scream before his waist was twisted and broken, followed by the monster’s giant mouth snapping shut, biting through his neck and shoulders.

Blood gushed out like a fountain, instantly dyeing the monster’s scaly body red.

The surrounding crowd was too busy fleeing, amidst the chaos, no one noticed the monster’s mumbled "thanks".

However, Gong Qi seemed to understand, his eyes blinked slightly, and his face immediately broke into a maniacal smile:

"You’re welcome!"

After speaking, he glanced at the slightly sluggish Guan Chong, and boasted with a laugh:

"Trying to steal my kill? Heh heh—beyond seven steps, I’m faster than a bullet; within seven steps, I’m faster than the trigger!"

Guan Chong’s expression remained steady, but the hand gripping the gun tightened involuntarily, making a firm resolution in his heart.

Feng Mu wasn’t distracted, answering his mother’s call, his voice gentle:

"Hello, Mom—"